“We mistake sex for romance. Guys are taught that pushing a girl up against a wall is romance. Sex is easy; you can do it with anyone, yourself, with batteries. Romance is when someone you like walks into a room and they take your breath away. Romance is when two people are dancing and they fit together perfectly. Romance is when two people are walking next to each other and all of a sudden they find themselves holding hands, and they don’t know how that happened.”—John C. Moffi (via implicities)
“Life sometimes gets so bogged down in the details, you forget you are living it. There is always another appointment to be met, another bill to pay, another symptom presenting, another uneventful day to be notched onto the wooden wall. We have synchronized our watches, studied our calendars, existed in minutes, and completely forgotten to step back and see what we’ve accomplished.”—My Sister’s Keeper by Jodi Picoult (via thechocolatebrigade)
Pep Talk: Nothing good can come from looking at your ex’s new photos. Don’t do it! That ex of yours doesn’t deserve another second of your attention. Navigate away. Instead of torturing yourself with painful thoughts, why not focus on some other task? Return some phone calls, read a book, do a crunch (one’s plenty), sing a song, or take a nap. Positive action will protect you from destructive Internet browsing behavior.
Today remind yourself: I know better than to torture myself.
Richard Siken kills me. His poems make me want to crawl inside them and sleep. That’s a good thing, by the way. But repeating his poems, accidentally memorizing them… that reminds me of the last few weeks before Anthony and I broke up. I had a poem I was memorizing for a poetry class. I had put it off, so while he watched a show, I memorized a poem. And then I recited it. And he didn’t get why I chose the poem, and I was still pissed because he had never asked to read my poetry, and I sat there and recited it to him wanting to cry because Edna St. Vincent Millay was sitting there on a page, representing every instance of my life, and how weird my heart felt loving someone that I was miserable being in a relationship with… how do you want in and out at the same time?
I didn’t want it to end: us loving each other. And in some ways it didn’t. I’ve still curled around you at night, warmed myself with the heat from your skin. But you aren’t the one I want to father my children now. You aren’t the one I want to wake me with your weight and scent in the morning. And I didn’t want that to end, Anthony. I still don’t know how entirely to untangle the threads woven. That way that you look at me when we wake up next to each other… it’s so similar. And I didn’t want similar, I just wanted to somehow not be miserable and for everything to continue.
But I just, didn’t know how to explain that once I got used to it found that I didn’t want it anymore.
Girls are taught a lot of stuff growing up: if a boy punches you he likes you, never try to trim your own bangs, and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, every story we’re told implores us to wait for it: the third act…
Learn the difference between a man who flatters you and a man who compliments you. A man who spends money on you and a man who invests in you. A man who views you as property and a man who views you properly. A man who lusts after you and a man who loves you.
“The more you struggle to live, the less you live. Give up the notion that you must be sure of what you are doing. Instead, surrender to what is real within you, for that alone is sure….you are above everything distressing.”—Spinoza (via illuminatedbeing)