i will never leave him. it will be this, always, for as long as he will let me. if i had had words to speak such a thing, i would have. but there were none that seemed big enough for it, to hold that swelling truth.
To me, to love is to notice, and to remember. To pay attention, enough to learn how to read a look, to interpret a silence. Maybe that’s why the heart is a muscle and not a bone; bones break and heal but muscles have memory.
being a 5’8 woman trying to sit on a man’s lap is humiliating i feel like one of those big ass dogs that hasn’t figured out it isn’t a puppy anymore yet
i watch him in the kitchen, and i think of how much it hurts to love somebody. how deep the hurt is, how almost unbearable. it's not the love that hurts; it's the possibility of anything happening to the object of your love.
ᅠ oh i'd sooner miss these little quips of yours to quick fire back what with the boys no longer here much to keep me company.
but if you're offering to make dinner tonight.. well, don't let me stop you.