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489 pages, ebook
First published March 13, 2018
I try to explain in my own words, and I gesture to his chest. “It's in your bones; it's what keeps you alive. The foundation of your body. To suck out all the marrow of life... I think about how Thoreau went into the woods and stripped life to the barest necessities. To learn what life is really made of, the feeling of water slipping between fingers, the chilled glass in my hand, the wind that rustles your damn hair. And I think about how I feel these barest things every day with you. To live life at its most essential level so as to fully live.”
⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱*Beautiful, yet I want more*⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱
“Dum spiro, spero,” he reads the Cicero quote. His eyes well up again.
On a day that rocked us both, he said he loved that quote. It was a quiet moment inside a storm. The memory is as tranquil as the quote itself.
‘While I breathe, I hope.’
“I’m lightning then, and you’re thunder. You always follow me every time I appear.”
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“Dum spiro, spero.”
“While I breathe, I hope.”
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“You know, my heart is in your hand.”
“And you said you wanted an in-your-face, overjoyed kind of love that knocks you backwards.” He takes a beat. “But our love is that and better. Our love is headstrong. It never yields, never dies. And when it knocks you backwards, it pulls you upright again.”
I didn’t grow up seeing love, but I sought that in every relationship, and I thought I met it. But I realize that I never even came close. Then I fell for him. It’s a love that pummels me every time I wake and crave to near him. Every time I see his morality and think, how good you are, and fuck, I’m lucky. It’s a love that beckons me towards him when he’s gone. One that reaches into my core and wraps itself around me. It’s that persistent, unforgettable undetachable love.