seafoam* posted a quote
November 12, 2018 9:29pm UTC
we had plans, we had visions now i can’t s e e a h e a d we were one, we were golden f o r e v e r , you said but i can’t be sober i cannot s l e e p you’ve got your peace now but w h a t a b o u t m e ? — You Said You’d Grow Old with Me
When I realize that she is gone, perhaps gone forever, a great void opens up and I feel that I am falling, falling, falling into deep, black space. And this is worse than tears, deeper than regret or pain or sorrow, it is the abyss into which Satan was plunged. There is no climbing back, no ray of light, no sound of human voice or human touch of hand.
“ Dreaming of you is like listening to the song inside of a seashell, you can’t see the waves or smell the salt, but its call can make you feel like you’re right there by the ocean. I know you’re not really here, but when you miss a thing this badly, even the illusion is enough. —b.t., SEA SHELL SONGS.
Perhaps the actual problem is the inexcusable way I have taught myself to love people. If my heart was a flower it would be an anomaly born without sepal or petals. Whole pieces of my soul-gold invested inside the bank of someone else’s heart. I mean, Aphrodite never shows up at school, book in hand, teaching love as the only real art. There are no classes in the coping with the loss of whole people, no warnings left on memory’s tombs. They say love is what makes the world go round, but no one ever leaves a note for us in the womb. No instruction manual when we are born, nor a how-to guide on the correct way to fall. Nor one on how to barter pieces of yourself without losing an eternity inside someone else’s soul. I’m afraid this is why I have always been so lost. I have been loved, and I have loved but I never learned how to gracefully bear the cost. In Which I Admit I Love Badly