If a writer loves you, you can never die. Your love will be described more vividly than you could ever imagine. Every moment of passion, lust, and admiration will be captured. The feelings you have for each other will live and breathe.
If a writer loves you, you will always exist. Your name will be permanently etched into paper, your physical descriptions printed in ink. You will flourish in their writing; their articles, their journals, their short stories, their poems. You will always be frozen in time.
If a writer loves you, every single moment spent together, good and bad, will be documented, reflected on, glorified, transformed into poetry. They will turn even the ugliest sides of you into something lovable, perfect. Writers are obsessively observant, they feel the rawest form of emotions, they see human behavior as something to always take note of. You become their favorite character.
If a writer loves you, everything will be remembered, from the moles scattered on your back to how assuredly you talk about the future. Climatic moments will play in their head like a movie. Each and every inkling of passion will be transcribed. Your words are never forgotten – instead mulled over in their minds until they can make sense of it all. Your expressions are never forgotten – they can stir them up in their minds in a moment’s notice.
If a writer loves you, they will dwell in that simple moment you already forgot about. They will remember the expression on your face, the intonation of your voice, the color of the sky, the breeze fluttering your coat. Even if the moment was dark, ugly, cruel, they will make it beautiful and lyrical and pure.
If a writer loves you, they will see you in a way no one else has, or ever will. They don’t just see what’s on the surface; they see to your core from the very beginning. They catch on to so many minor details that they will piece together why you act the way you do, why you are the way you are. You will never be fully understood until a writer falls in love with you. They live for character development, for empathizing and feeling, for identifying and putting words to each trait and characteristic that makes you unique.
If a writer loves you, they don’t simply see you wake up in the morning like anyone else might. A writer authenticates it, stores it, can recall the scene whenever they like. They can make it thrive in words, sentences, paragraphs.
If a writer loves you, your eyes don’t just open in the morning. A writer sees that they slowly flutter open and register to the brightness in the room, the dark blue hue catching the sunlight. A writer sees him give a small, satisfied smile, a lazy blink, a deep contented groan before pulling you closer in his arms. They feel the texture of his skin, the open pores as though he just dried off from a sauna. They feel the slight raised skin of the tattoos and the smooth trench of the spine. They see the brown hair sticking wildly in different directions, and they remember how it looked the night before when it was slicked back, beads of water on the temples. They hear how quickly he falls asleep, the sudden depth to his breathing, the heavy sighs every so often as if he’s having a disappointing dream.
If a writer loves you, they see and feel these details; they become a part of them. They write them down, they remember them, they treasure them.
If a writer loves you, and you choose to leave them, no one you ever wake up with again will ever see you in quite the same way. For the rest of your life, you will know that there is someone from your past who can write a whole story based on your eyes opening in the morning, or the way you smoke a cigarette, the way you listen intently with a furrowed brow, the way you gesture while explaining something, the way your hands ball into fists when you walk. They can turn your sleepy forehead kisses into a poem; your smitten gaze into a novel. They know your textures, your sounds, your scents; they bring them to life. They keep you alive, eternally. And you will remain their favorite, most true story that they’ve ever written.