abstraction, n.
Love is one kind of abstraction. And then there are those nights when I sleep alone, when I curl into a pillow that isn't you, when I hear the tiptoe sounds that aren't you. It's not as if I can conjure you there completely. I must embrace the idea of you instead.
pg 5.
yearning, n. and adj.
At the core of this desire is the belief that everything can be perfect.
pg 207.
The Lover's Dictionary
recant, v.
I want to take back at least half of the "I love yous", because I didn't mean them as much as the other ones. I want to take back the book of artsy photos I gave you, because you didn't get it and said it was hipster trash. I want to take back what I said about you being an emotional zombie. I want to take back the time I called you "honey" in front of your sister and you looked like I had just shown her pictures of us having sex. I want to take back the nice wineglass and the argument would have ended anyway. I want to take back the time we had sex in a rent-a-car, not because I feel bad about the people who got the car after us, but because it was massively uncomfortable. I want to take back the trust I had while you were away in Austin. I want to take back the time I said you were a genius, because I was being sarcastic and I should have just said you'd hurt my feelings. I want to take back the secrets I told you so I can decide now whether to tell them to you again. I want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly miss it. I want to take back at least half the "I love yous", because it feels safer that way.
(The Lover's Dictionary, page 169)
lover, n.
Oh, how I hated this word. So pretentious, like it was always being translated from the French. The tint and taint of illicit, illegitimate affections. Dictionary meaning: a person having a love affair. Impermanent. Unfamilial. Inextricably linked to sex.
I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go back to the root of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I have always wanted to love, and to be loved.
There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.
When I say, Be my lover, I don't mean, Let's have an affair. I don't mean, Sleep with me. I don't mean, Be my secret.
I want us to go back down to that root.
I want you to be the one who loves me.
I want to be the one who loves you.
(The Lover's Dictionary, page 137)
I want to take back at least half of the "I love yous", because I didn't mean them as much as the other ones. I want to take back the book of artsy photos I gave you, because you didn't get it and said it was hipster trash. I want to take back what I said about you being an emotional zombie. I want to take back the time I called you "honey" in front of your sister and you looked like I had just shown her pictures of us having sex. I want to take back the nice wineglass and the argument would have ended anyway. I want to take back the time we had sex in a rent-a-car, not because I feel bad about the people who got the car after us, but because it was massively uncomfortable. I want to take back the trust I had while you were away in Austin. I want to take back the time I said you were a genius, because I was being sarcastic and I should have just said you'd hurt my feelings. I want to take back the secrets I told you so I can decide now whether to tell them to you again. I want to take back the piece of me that lies in you, to see if I truly miss it. I want to take back at least half the "I love yous", because it feels safer that way.
(The Lover's Dictionary, page 169)
lover, n.
Oh, how I hated this word. So pretentious, like it was always being translated from the French. The tint and taint of illicit, illegitimate affections. Dictionary meaning: a person having a love affair. Impermanent. Unfamilial. Inextricably linked to sex.
I have never wanted a lover. In order to have a lover, I must go back to the root of the word. For I have never wanted a lover, but I have always wanted to love, and to be loved.
There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.
When I say, Be my lover, I don't mean, Let's have an affair. I don't mean, Sleep with me. I don't mean, Be my secret.
I want us to go back down to that root.
I want you to be the one who loves me.
I want to be the one who loves you.
(The Lover's Dictionary, page 137)
this only happens in my head
i can just imagine it
you will ask, can i love you
and i will say no.
only because you won't be able to handle my emotions.
because if i can't, who will?
i used to struggle with the fact that if fate and chance didn't bring us together, we would be total strangers. and nothing will be able to change that—none of my actions will be of consequence to our paths crossing. i would be wading through life trying to find you but i don't even know who you are or where you'd be.
sometimes i would like to write about you but i don't want to ruin—
i used to think you special. extra special. so i wrote about you and thought about you a lot.
you held quite some weight for quite a long time because i wrote about how the universe and stars relate to you and every time i read that post hidden in the depths of the internet i felt proud and also shy.
but. i figured you out and you're not as baffling and wonderful as i thought you were.
to put it quite simply... you're just like me.
this is the first time i've written about love or my feelings in a long while.
i remember when i used to pour my heart out on a daily basis.
i too, wish you were more honest with your—
you will ask, can i love you
and i will say no.
only because you won't be able to handle my emotions.
because if i can't, who will?
i used to struggle with the fact that if fate and chance didn't bring us together, we would be total strangers. and nothing will be able to change that—none of my actions will be of consequence to our paths crossing. i would be wading through life trying to find you but i don't even know who you are or where you'd be.
sometimes i would like to write about you but i don't want to ruin—
i used to think you special. extra special. so i wrote about you and thought about you a lot.
you held quite some weight for quite a long time because i wrote about how the universe and stars relate to you and every time i read that post hidden in the depths of the internet i felt proud and also shy.
but. i figured you out and you're not as baffling and wonderful as i thought you were.
to put it quite simply... you're just like me.
this is the first time i've written about love or my feelings in a long while.
i remember when i used to pour my heart out on a daily basis.
i too, wish you were more honest with your—
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