Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

by Jonathan Safran Foer

I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.

We need much bigger pockets, I thought as I lay in bed, counting off the seven minutes that it takes a normal person to fall asleep. We need enormous pockets, pockets big enough for our families, and our friends, and even the people who aren’t on our lists, people we’ve never met but still want to protect. We need pockets for boroughs and for cities, a pocket that could hold the universe.

I like to see people reunited, maybe that’s a silly thing, but what can I say, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can’t tell fast enough, the ears that aren’t big enough, the eyes that can’t take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone,

sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all of the lives I’m not living.

I needed to see her again, I couldn’t explain my need to myself, and that’s why it was such a beautiful need, there’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself.

she wants to know if I love her, that’s all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself but the knowledge that love is there,

I’m sorry for my inability to let the unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.