There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
That’s the trouble with loving a wild thing: You’re always left watching the door.
We also write to heighten our own awareness of life. We write to lure and enchant and console others. We write to serenade our lovers. We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospection. We write, like Proust, to render all of it eternal, and to persuade ourselves that it is eternal. We write to be able to transcend our life, to reach beyond it. We write to teach ourselves to speak with others, to record the journey into the labyrinth. We write to expand our world when we feel strangled, or constricted, or lonely. We write as the birds sing, as the primitives dance their rituals. If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don’t write, because our culture has no use for it. When I don’t write, I feel my world shrinking. I feel I am in a prison. I feel I lose my fire and my color. It should be a necessity, as the sea needs to heave, and I call it breathing.
Anaïs Nin, ”The New Woman”
I think about you. But I don’t say it anymore.
You will fall in love with someone who’s cold and always seemingly pushing you away. When all is said and done, they will be forever known as the one person you couldn’t get to love you. Unfortunately, it will hurt and sting worse than the good ones, the ones that chopped up your meat for you and picked out an eyelash from your eye and were nice to your mother, because love often feels like a game we need to win.
Ryan O’Connell, The People You Will Fall in Love With in Your 20s
You were unsure which pain is worse — the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will.
You won’t do our things with another girl, or say the same things, will you?
Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.
Because I decided on you, don’t you get that? I decided on you. I don’t want to go fucking other girls and then walk around feeling thrilled and then sad or empty or whatever. I like the smell of your hair and I like the sound of your voice and I fucking decided on you.