grace

“You asked what changed my mind about the job earlier,” he says.
“That’s what did it. Medicine. For depression.”
My throat squeezes. Just one more huge thing I didn’t know about him. “From losing your dad?”
He shakes his head. “I thought it was just that. But once I started taking
it, I realized that had just made things worse. But it’s always been there. Making everything harder than it should be. It’s like . . .” He scratches his temple. “In high school, I had this friend on the soccer team. And one day, after a game, he collapsed. His chest hurt and he couldn’t get his shirt off, but he wanted to because he couldn’t breathe, and we all thought he was having a heart attack. Turned out it was asthma. Spent like seventeen years operating on fifty-five percent lung capacity without realizing breathing just wasn’t supposed to be that hard. Starting antidepressants was like that for me. I felt like shit all the time, and then
suddenly I didn’t. And all this stuff seemed possible for the first time. My mind felt . . . quieter, maybe. Lighter.”
― Emily Henry, Happy Place

“Just promise," I say, "we'll end things before we ever let them get like that."
Hurt flashes across his face. I want to take it back, but I don't.
This is all I can give him, all I can give myself: some tiny measure of protection.
The only way I can bear loving anyone this much is knowing it will never turn to poison. Knowing we'll give each other up before we can destroy each other.”
― Emily Henry, Happy Place