... I love books about freaks," because I am one. You might be, too. Let's be freaks together?
no matter how happy we are, no matter how much we want our night to stretch out infinitely, sleep is inevitable.
You spend so much time, so much effort, trying to hold yourself together. And then everything falls apart anyway.
With some people ,the minute you start talking, it feels like you've known them for years. It only means that you were supposed to meet sooner. You're feeling all the time you should have known each other, but didn't. That time still counts. You can definitely feel it.
If you let the world in, you open yourself up to the world. Even if the world doesn't know that you're there.
I can honestly say Ive never thought for a second about whether a character reflects poorly on any group. All that matters to me is that the character is true to my belief in who he or she is.
It's not the easy things that let you get to know a person.
I am starting to get tired of relying on words. They are full of meaning, yes, but they lack sensation. Writing to her is not the same as seeing her face as she listens. hearing back from her is not the same as hearing her voice. I have always been grateful for technology, but now it feels as if there's a little hitch of separation woven into any digital interaction. I want to be there, and this scares me. All my usual disconnected comforts are bieng taken away, now that I see the greater comfort of presence.
I still felt fondness for her - fondness, that pleasant, detached mix of admiration and sentiment, appreciation and nostalgia.
But I had a feeling I wasn't supposed to find her that way. She was not a needle. This was not a haystack. We were people, and people had ways of finding each other.
I will be the one to leave you.
This is what my voice sounds like I don't need to be talking to someone else To hear it
If I lose it now, I will lose you, too. I know that. I hate it.
It was so much easier when I didn't want anything. Not getting what you want can make you cruel.
I still don’t know if this is a good quality or a bad one, to be able to be in the moment and then step out of it.
There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.
It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I've gotten it backward, maybe it's just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don't think that's it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn't happened to meet her.
And just like that, the universe goes wrong. Just like that, all the enormity seems to shrink into a ball and float away from my reach. I feel it, and she doesn't. Or I feel it, and she won't.
I feel such a tenderness for these vulnerable nighttime conversations, the way words take a different shape in the air when there's no light in the room.
The older I get, the more I lose my ability to breathe.
When the shock wears off, you always hope there's understanding underneath.
It's goodbye to some things. And hello to others.
If you want to live within the definition of your own truth, you have to choose to go through the initially painful and ultimately comforting process of finding it.
It’s as simple as that. Simple and complicated, as most true things are.
People take love's continuity for granted, just as they take their body's continuity for granted. They don't realize that the best thing about love is its regular presence. Once you can establish that, it's an added foundation to your life.
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