But we avoid feeling anything because we have more or less been taught that our feelings have lives of their own. That they’ll carry on forever if we give them even a moment of our awareness.
Don’t try to look up the manual. I can tell you there is no step-by-step procedure.
But I knew these were not my hands to hold. I explained the curve and thinness of the line farthest from his thumb meant relationship trouble. I was playing with fire now.
I’m not upset that our time together had an expiration date.
You are too close, and never close enough.
Sometimes people will ask you how many times you’ve cried in the last year, as if you’re going to pull out a journal that lists the date and time of every breakdown you’ve had in the last 12 months.
I’m not brave, I never was. Neither am I strong nor spirited. Never was and I don’t think I ever will be.
You left a trail of everywhere that you had been. You drank whisky from my collarbone, scratched passion along my thighs.
Do I truly miss you, the person that you are, every single part of you? Or do I miss having a “someone,” a “person?”
Sometimes I tell myself I never was in love with him, and even if I was at one point, surely I’m not now.