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After a while, you have to be at peace with the fact that you simply are. There is no way to know why. You can have theories, but there will never be proof.
Knowledge is the only thing I take with me when I go.
It’s one thing to fall in love. It’s another to feel someone else falling in love with you, and to feel a responsibility toward that love.
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. But if you cannot have that regular presence, you only have the one foundation to support you, always.
It is a mistake to think of the body as a vessel. It is as active as any mind, as any soul. And the more you give yourself to it, the harder your life will be.
Self-preservation isn’t worth it if you can’t live with the self you’re preserving.
“You,” I say. Just one word, and she finally understands. Just one word, and the door to the enormity is finally unlocked.
“Picture me however you want to picture me. Because odds are, that’ll be more true than any of the bodies you see me in.”
This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible. And when it’s just the two of you, alone in a room, you can pretend that this is how it is, this is how it will be.
