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As far as I know, there are two ways to get over someone: Surrender to the anger that’s already there, or invent something to get angry about. Sometimes it was always wrong, and the only thing to do is stop believing it was good to love them in spite of it. But sometimes they were good to you. Sometimes you go looking for kindling and find that green leaves won’t burn, that the garden was watered too well. Sometimes you have to rearrange the truth into something you won’t miss. And sometimes, when enough time goes by, it gets hard to remember which one you did.
Every night, I’d find my phone charger relocated to my nightstand and my water bottle beside it, refilled at the precise temperature I liked. Dates circled themselves on the calendar. Fresh flowers appeared whenever the old ones wilted. And no matter how carelessly I unloaded the dishwasher, when I checked the back of the utensil drawer, the measuring spoons were always there.
This.
“So, before the trip, I had this idea to make a list of composers who wrote music in each of the tour stops. Because I—” He pauses, searching for the words. This is new. He used to talk in long, breathless sentences until he chiseled down to his point, but now he sifts through his thoughts. “Everywhere we go, I want to experience it entirely. All the way out to its edges. I want to touch it, taste it, drink it, eat it, climb it, swim in it. You can hear a place by walking down the street or sitting next to the ocean or opening a window, but I think if you want to listen to it, it’s in here.
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Wait, this is actually such a good idea. I gotta remember this.
When I moved to Paris, Dad told me to guard my wonder. He said that the danger of living in a place of dreams is that it can become ordinary. His exact words were, Novelty is half of sublimity,
“It was not for me to protect her from my heart. It was only for me to let her see it and decide if she will keep it.”
On unrequited love
Don't call me out like that :(
If I can give my whole heart to love without fearing the cost, I will regret nothing.
I can tell them I was wrong. That I was afraid, but I don’t want to be anymore. That being with them is worth anything. Everything. Whatever it costs, however it ends. The only thing I’d regret more than losing them is never getting to love them the way I could love them now.
