Mariana Zapata

everyone dealt with grief differently. Hell, we all dealt with life differently

you get a lot more out of life being nice than being a cabrona

I had a big family, but sometimes you met people who fit so perfectly into your life, you couldn’t imagine them ever not being a part of it.

This had always been our relationship: she went in like a battering ram and didn’t worry about what she damaged until afterward

Grief never got any easier

It was about everything. About life and death, and white and black and gray. It was about having to be tough when you weren’t used to it. About having to grow when you’d thought you were done growing

But how could I explain? How could I begin to tell him that I had lost a part of myself with my brother’s death, and I was trying so hard to keep what I had left together with duct tape and paper clips?

You shouldn’t sell yourself short. There’re some people who you’ll never make happy no matter what you do

There was a lot of things about love that you could only learn after you’d faced the real kind. The best kind wasn’t this soft, sweet thing of hearts and picnics. It wasn’t flowery and divine.
Real love was gritty. The real kind of love never quit. Someone who loved you would do what’s best for you; they’d stand up for you and sacrifice. Someone who loved you would face any inconvenience willingly

You didn’t know what love was until someone was willing to give up what they loved the most for you.
But it was also never letting them make that choice, either