excerpts from the book i'll never write

by Nadia Nell Starbinski

I craved a forever not a just for now. I don’t want to play games and feel

You’re intoxicating. You set my soul on fire. Being in love with you is something I can’t even put into words.

I have fallen out of love with my art. Virginia Woolf once said, “I am overwhelmed with things I ought to have written about and never found the proper words.”

As a writer, my world is vibrant. My thoughts are consuming and every experience is followed by a philosophical analysis which often leads to the scribbling of excerpts from the book I’ll never write.

I am suffocating, yet I am the one holding the bag over my head.

It is the idea of hands fitting together perfectly and legs tangling beneath sheets in perfect harmony that she is in love with.

She is not in love with him. She was never in love with him, so she doesn’t know why she clings,

I think there are people that you are supposed to let into your life, and I think that by design they are meant to leave and you are never supposed to speak again.

You’re always going to shrug your shoulder and tell everyone you haven’t changed that much. You say this until someone catches you off guard at 2:30am and says, “Tell me about yourself.” And you reply with, “Like what?” And they say, “Everything.” It is when you’re explaining your life from when your mother neglected you, to the one night stand you regret and you are brought back to the present and truly realize…you are not the same. Then you sit back, take a deep breath, exhale and say, “Thank God.”

The idea of being a hopeless romantic in a society built on the foundation of a hook-up culture is somehow unwanted; too passionate, too intimidating, if you will.

Sometimes you know. You look at this beautifully crafted silhouette of a person and you ask yourself how you got so lucky. Maybe it was that smile, the way his skin formed crescents around his seductively pale lips when he grinned so absentmindedly. Or maybe it was those eyes. Those caramel coffee bean colored eyes that looked like nothing less than sunshine gleaming through whiskey, those eyes that looked at me and sent a jolt through every fiber of my being.

All that I know is I loved him, my God, I loved him with all that I had, and that love broke me from the inside out until I had nothing left to offer.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-8

Not Christian but a great quote

I could send chills down your spine when I read to you. I could make you quiver and shake. I could seduce you, just by reading to you.