Saturday, January 24, 2009

We are born with this longing, this desire for love.

"The connection was so bad, and I couldn’t talk at all during most of the call. How terrible it is when you say I love you and the person at the other end shouts back ‘What?’"
--J.D. Salinger

I don’t think “Whoa” is a standard response to “I love you,” but it was the only one I could come up with at the time.

"You had to exercise that part of your brain, the part that let's you fall for someone, otherwise you'd never be able to fall in love with anyone. Ever."
--'Second Helpings'

I love you more than I have ever found a way to say to you.

We are born with this longing, this desire for love. We search for it even when we are younger. At birth we reach out tiny hands and hope to feel soft skin against our own. And as we grow up that wish doesn’t really change. We cross our fingers on shooting stars and soft smiles and pray when we pass graveyards and the breath is stolen from our lungs as that one special person looks over at you. When the clock strikes 11:11 we close our eyes and let every fiber of our being desperately call out to someone out there and will them to come home.

I'll be back so soon you won't have time to miss me. Look after my heart--I've left it with you.

You’re out there, I know it. My lover in the storm. Somewhere in this world, could you be thinking of me? To me, you are a blank face with everything I’ve ever wanted inside. Beautiful as the stars with words rolling off your tongue. I can’t wait to hear everything you have to say. I can’t wait to feel your skin against my own. I want to share it all with you; mornings and nights, memories and hurt. I want you to be there, and I have never even met you. Or have I? Perhaps you are closer than I think. Either way, I will be waiting. Please come, because each day that you linger is another cross for me to bear.

Because she left, he was alone. Because he wouldn’t dance without her, he forgot how to. Because his world stood still, they left him behind. Because he missed the plane, he explored the city. Because she didn’t sleep anymore, she needed coffee. Because her scarf was yellow, it caught his eye. Because she didn’t see him, she wandered out. Because the 594 bus was late, she took the train. Because he liked to watch the sky, he took the window seat. Because she knew his hat, she slid right in. Because he smiled slightly, she spoke at last. Because she missed him. Because her body still regretted leaving. Because she loved him still, the world spun again.

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