I had been too careful with you, scared of messing anything up…That I missed on the chance of creating what could possibly be the greatest love story this world could ever have.
You were worth all the risk I didn’t have the courage to take.
One day, you are going to look in the mirror, and really see yourself. You are going to take stock of every hair on your head, and the overwhelming symmetry of your face, and the long limbs which lead to each delicate extremity.
You are going to see this person who is worth every bit of pleasure and luck that this world could possibly offer, whose refined outsides cannot begin to reflect the well-built person inside. You will see that you are so much more this world expects of you or needs you to be, that you are good in a way we imagine takes some kind of serious effort but just comes naturally to the lucky ones, the ones like you.
You will see that you are this person, that you deserve everything you’ve ever thought was just out of your reach.
And then, you will leave me."
— by Chelsea Fagan
Love Is The Only Thing That Exists
I’ve had a preoccupation lately — especially when walking down the street listening to piano music — with imagining what it would be like to get shot in the chest. There’d be a jolt of impact, a hard jab that knocks the wind out of you. Then I’d drop to my knees, and everything surreal — people running and screaming, maybe a siren, or maybe no one notices at all, just a bird floats overhead in an ordinary sky on an ordinary sunny day. There’d be blood, and then I’d lie down and go to sleep.
I’ve also had a preoccupation — especially on these cold, still nights after a warm day, when spring waits for tomorrow – with thinking about love.
I’ve tried to dismiss it — clunky, overly-emotional collocation; cheap and melodramatic feeling. But I can’t. When I think about loving someone, I think about dying. I think about her dying and us dying and me dying for her. Carl Jung said something like, “Where there is light there is always a shadow.”
Death and love are the same this way: they are the only things I’m sure are true. They are, in a sense, the only things that exist. I don’t know why I’m alive, or if I’m always doing the right thing. I can’t ground my words to something immovable, or tell you much about cause and effect. (If in accuracy we only learn what we do not know, shouldn’t we exalt beauty?)
But I can tell you that my heart quivers and my stomach drops when I see her. And I can tell you about phone calls and funerals and he’s not coming back. And I think the only way to live fully is to give up what I can’t know, and to drop to my knees and worship what I do, and be vulnerable to it — love + death — to recognize their higher power.
And I think: for love to abandon me is for death to catch me — walking down the street, listening to piano music — with a shot to the chest.
Date A Girl Who Reads
“Date a girl who reads.Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books.Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader.They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow. She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making.Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book. Buy her another cup of coffee. Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice. It’s easy to date a girl who reads.Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love.Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does. She has to give it a shot somehow. Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world. Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax.Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two. Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are. You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”
Rosemarie Urquico (via kblitz)
Rosemarie no longer has an active blog, but she can be found on Facebook here: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/profile.php?id=585211028
To see the post about how she was found, please go here. Thanks to Booksnbrew for searching!