April 2009
1 post
March 2009
1 post
012
I have never missed you more thoroughly and completely as I miss you now. Even before, it was simply the missing of gestures, of bodies and warm skin and routine. I can break down this particular missing into parts: the feeling of your nose against my ear, scalp massages, your eyelashes, spooning, the way you lean your head back and laugh with your eyes closed when I say something funny during...
February 2009
3 posts
“her heart half filled with love
for her husband and half with modesty.
one eye...”
– a sanskrit poem by dhoyleka
011
Today, one of my best friends was left by her partner, for no apparent reason, after 17 months. She feels as if her world is ending. I want so desperately to show her that it isn’t, but when we are in pain, we close our ears. Nothing anyone else has ever felt is comparable to the hurt we are feeling now.
You and I almost ended our relationship last week, and it was terrifying and...
January 2009
10 posts
“Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the...”
– Richard Siken (via purecommelor) (via apologies)
“can we stop?
when we stop, my hands will shake
my eyes will burn
my throat...”
– emily haines & the soft skeleton, “our hell”
010
We fight over petty things. I hate fighting with you more than anything else in the universe. You treat me like a child and you refuse to apologise for it, arguing that your actions are just. I refuse to accept your lack of apology. We are both in the wrong; we have both blown the argument out of proportion, but we refuse to back down. We pass each other without meeting eyes. I’m not sure...
009
Last night, in a fit of drunken emotionality, I showed him this.
He said he wants to spend the rest of his life with me.
008
Today I realised that I am making him my home. This thought frightens me.
007
When we see each other for the first time in a very long while, there is an immense distance between us. We approach each other like strange cats. We circle each other, eyes locked; we do not touch. It is hard to believe that this stranger is the very same man who holds me while I cry, who kisses my neck, who shares my bed.
When we kiss for the first time in a very long while, your mouth is...
December 2008
12 posts
“When she worked on a canvas in her top-floor room, she had a habit, when...”
– the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay
006
You are the best present anyone could ask for. Your love is a better gift than anything store-bought, anything handmade, anything wrapped up in paper with bows and ribbons and gift tags. Your love transcends all seasons, fills me with unending and immeasurable happiness the whole year through. You give me chills in the lazy August heat; you fill me with warmth on the coldest December nights. You...
“I felt you in my legs before I ever met you
And when I laid beside you for the...”
– tegan and sara, “nineteen”
005
All I want for christmas is you.
“i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles...”
– ee cummings (via slowdancing)
004
I was thinking about past loves last night. We are so impressionable when we are young. Our first loves shape us, define love for us. They are passionate and fierce and painful and mad. They tear us apart, break our hearts. Sometimes they make us afraid to love again. We learn from these periods of insanity, learn to guard our hearts more carefully, keep our cards closer to our chests; later...
“When I see you, the world stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and...”
– james frey (via apologies)
003
There is nothing I want more right now than for you to hold me and warm me up. I want to curl up with you in a bed piled high with blankets and pillows, in a room lined with christmas lights. I want to sip hot tea and chocolate soymilk and nibble on cookies and burrow into your chest. “Why do you always hide your face in my chest?” “Because it makes me feel safe.” I want to be there with you when...
“Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for....”
– Jonathan Safran Foer (via apologies)
002
I painted my nails today, dark red (the colour of love). It’s the sort of detail you always miss. Sometimes I prepare myself for you - long showers, smooth skin, lotions and perfumes and polishes and makeup and little lacy things - but you rarely notice. I know it isn’t because you don’t love me, but. Sometimes it hurts anyway. Sometimes I want you to appreciate the effort I put into making myself...
001
I miss you in parts. It makes it easier. It’s easier to miss the soft skin of your stomach, the freckle on the outside of your right nostril, your long, dark eyelashes, the space between your jaw and throat than it is to miss you as a whole. I miss one part in particular each day. Day 1, it was the feeling of your arm draped over the small of my back as we fall asleep. Day 2 was your stomach. Day...