Sarah

“So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem.”
― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

“anything. But here’s the thing: They haven’t lost that love. They’ve lost the physical, the visible, the tangible layer of love, but not the love itself. The love itself endures. The love itself is baked into our memories. The love itself is what slips across our cheeks when we cry, it’s what tugs at our lips when we smile. It’s the yearning pit in our stomach, the urge to make them proud. It’s the gratitude in knowing we were gifted something real. But the love itself is fragile, and it’s put at risk by the sleep. I wasn’t surprised when I read about the potential side effect of the treatment. Love and loss, joy and pain, are two sides of the same coin, are they not? How could we ever banish one without endangering the other?”
― Nikki Erlick, The Poppy Fields

“This doesn’t end. This is the rest of your life. There’s no getting over, there’s just . . . getting on.”
― Nikki Erlick, The Poppy Fields