When I’m gone, you can love me best by letting hands touch hands, and letting go of what needs to be free.
When all that’s left of me is love, give me away.
Then the class discussed falling asleep without feeling you had forgotten to do something else— something important—and how to believe the house you wake in is your home.
Love as an emotion comes easily when it's right; love as an act though requires understanding. Yourself, what you want, where you want to be with the other person. All that before you understand them. And then you have to make the call: do we have enough me right now to be an us?
I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it—to be fed so much love I couldn’t take any more. Just once.
I know I said some things about needing space—but you are not the moon or the sun, a planet or a dwarf star. I do not know if distance from you will ever sit right with me
(even if it has to).
(I think it has to.)
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?