Molly(thevolta.org)
thevolta.org
Molly
https://thevolta.org/im-bbutler.html
17 comments
Beautifully said.
This text really captures the feelings of a mourning person and i could feel a great connection.
" My dear Molly—I’m so sorry. I really tried. I know you really tried, too. I love you forever. "
After all the context i had after reading the preceding lines, this hit me like a wall of bricks. Everybody who knows what tragic loss feels like can connect here.
Would not have expected feel so much browsing through HN. I hope the author finds a way to live with his loss.
" My dear Molly—I’m so sorry. I really tried. I know you really tried, too. I love you forever. "
After all the context i had after reading the preceding lines, this hit me like a wall of bricks. Everybody who knows what tragic loss feels like can connect here.
Would not have expected feel so much browsing through HN. I hope the author finds a way to live with his loss.
Sometimes I write like this when I am stressed...
"One summer, she collected bits of moss each time we went out and built a bank of it under the window where she would sit in bed and write. She could lay for hours like that, typing surrounded by books and snacks and pillows with the lights off. I never understood how she could write that way until after she was gone, and I no longer had the will to sit up straight."
"One summer, she collected bits of moss each time we went out and built a bank of it under the window where she would sit in bed and write. She could lay for hours like that, typing surrounded by books and snacks and pillows with the lights off. I never understood how she could write that way until after she was gone, and I no longer had the will to sit up straight."
This is a very sad, though beautifully written, piece on a tragic character who, in all reality, is probably not as interesting as the post seems to suggest.
But I don't care. Some of the loves I've lost in my life in hindsight weren't what I thought they were at the time. And that's okay, because I need that memory to be there for me.
But I don't care. Some of the loves I've lost in my life in hindsight weren't what I thought they were at the time. And that's okay, because I need that memory to be there for me.
In contrast to your reading of this piece, I found it not only touching but it awakened my interest in her work. I don't share your assessment that she was a "character who, in all reality, is probably not as interesting as the post seems to suggest". But then again, I'm not even sure what you mean by that.
My interpretation is that GP does not intend to be dismissive of Molly or her husband.
I read "The writing is so reverent and personal, that a reader wonders if they are reading about the subject, or about the writer."
It's a reasonable question, but not an important one -- the reverence is the whole point. GP alludes to this in their last sentence, I think.
I read "The writing is so reverent and personal, that a reader wonders if they are reading about the subject, or about the writer."
It's a reasonable question, but not an important one -- the reverence is the whole point. GP alludes to this in their last sentence, I think.
Thank you for being open-minded enough to understand. In life there are many self-imposed halo effects on the people you love. I believe this is one of them. Honestly I've had too many deep stare-downs in the world of addiction, sickness, and loneliness - I choose to forget many of them. There has been a Molly (though we never married) in my past, too. But 20+ years forward the effect she had on me has eroded and left behind a truth of who she really was that's raw and unforgiving. But I want to remember the "Molly" of my life that was fun and carefree. And maybe I'm casting my own experiences here on the author, most likely I am. Things like this are hard to put into words.
I am choosing to read it as, “I found this interesting but fear HN may not.” Best I can do as it feels right to assume the best after reading the linked piece.
This is an extraordinarily useless comment. In a piece that lays it bare, you somehow completely missed the meaning of why to write on love.
[deleted]
Even now you prove her point.
It all makes perfect sense. When you decide to kill yourself, that is: the thoughts make perfect, logical sense. There's no fear when you truly want to die, you just get up off the couch, walk into the bathroom, down several bottles of pills, lie down with your cat, and wait for the end. If you choose to do it with a gun, however, the cops can't bust in to prevent it.
I hope you are doing ok now.
In case it is helpful, I'll copy over the text from the top of the article.
If you are feeling suicidal, thinking about hurting yourself, or are concerned that someone you know may be in danger of hurting themselves, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). It is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and is staffed by certified crisis response professionals.
You can find help in locating a mental health professional by calling the number above, or consulting the National Mental Health Information Center at www.mentalhealth.samhsa.gov/databases/
In case it is helpful, I'll copy over the text from the top of the article.
If you are feeling suicidal, thinking about hurting yourself, or are concerned that someone you know may be in danger of hurting themselves, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255). It is available 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and is staffed by certified crisis response professionals.
You can find help in locating a mental health professional by calling the number above, or consulting the National Mental Health Information Center at www.mentalhealth.samhsa.gov/databases/
I'm fine, just colouring the conversation a bit, people think it's impossible to choose to do something like this, but it's quite possible for a human brain to logically conclude it shouldn't exist.
The piece also alludes to "unspeakable" things happening in her childhood.
Some things are incredibly hard to put down. Sometimes a person's childhood casts a dark shadow over the rest of their life. Like a deep shadow in winter where the snow refuses to melt even though the sun has come out and the temperatures have risen, sometimes the cold and dark of childhood refuses to leave one, no matter how hard they try to resolve it and no matter how much time has passed.