love-book

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.
—  Louise Erdrich, The Painted Drum

Are you ever sorry?“ He asked.

"For loving you?” She smiled and shook her head. “No. There are so many things to be sorry for, but loving you isn’t one of them.”

For some reason, that answer made him even more restless.

“What are the things you’re sorry about, then?” He asked after a while.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t quite right for you. That you weren’t quite right for me. That the timing wasn’t quite right for us. We were never lacking in love. It wasn’t ever a question of whether we loved each other enough or not, because if love could fill a whole room - ours would have needed more space. It would have burst out of the windows and banged open doors.” She stopped, and smiled such a sad smile it broke his heart all over again.

“You know I loved you so much.” He whispered.

She reached out to squeeze his hand and said, “I know, darling. I know. But even the greatest of loves cannot withstand the wars of this world. And no matter how much we loved each other, it wasn’t a war we were supposed to win.

—  we were beautiful but we weren’t quite right // Genefe Navilon

i realized today while sitting in language arts, that not everything needs to be turned into poetry. i turn some of the happiest little things into the saddest poetry and i shouldn’t. not everything needs to bleed over, not everything needs to be put on paper or captured. it’s okay for some things to just stay put in your head.

You say you’re impossible to love,
I say you’re impossible to unlove.
—  Tenari Ioapo // Confessions of a woman madly in love #5.

In this universe, there is order. One plus one is two. Things fall toward the ground. A feather will float on water. There is logic, a sequence to every action. Reach for another’s hand, an impulse travels from brain to neuron to muscle, down the arm. The heart beats, one two one two, and a breath comes in and goes out.

In this universe, there also is chaos. The universe is moving towards disorder. Someone dies when they had so much to live for. Lovers meet and fall apart. There is grief and anger and pain.

In this lifetime, there will be chaos but some things will always be constant. The sun will rise. The earth will spin. And I will always love you.

—  the book about love that i will never write

Dear ex-lover,

It doesn’t kill me anymore to be “just friends” with you , and that makes me think I’m over you, over us. Maybe I am, maybe not, there’s no way to tell. But here is a list of things I’ll never admit to you:

i. In my bedside drawer, I still have the old bottle of deodorant that I used to wear when we had our summer romance because it reminds me of the beautiful beginning of our wild but innocent love. And once in a while, I like to inhale it all in and that puts a smile on my face, just like you used to.

ii. After you stopped teaching me your mother tongue, I fell in love with it. Even though you stopped recommending good movies, I continued on my own because I still craved to learn the language. I’m in love with those movies and the actors and the songs, and you’d be surprised if you knew how better I got at comprehending the language.

iii. I have never ever wished anything bad to happen to you, and even now, I want you to be really happy in life. I’m genuinely happy whenever our mutual best friend tells us you’re doing good, and I still rave about your achievements to everyone I know.

iv. Even though your mom hates me enough to tell you not to talk to me, the respect I have for her is beyond words. She’s one of the strongest people I know of to have survived everything life threw her way with her head held high, and bringing up an amazing person like you, simultaneously.

v. Just sometimes I still hug my pillow tight imagining it’s you as my eyes are closing because that gives me the feeling of safety and security and it reminds me of a time I felt intoxicated in love. It warms my heart.

vi. I haven’t heard your voice in more than three months but I remember the way your voice felt like silk saying my name, and the butterflies I felt in my stomach. I remember a lot of things you said that came straight out of your heart, and I feel lucky to have had that kind of young love.

Love fades and love stories are buried but the things you learnt from them and the feeling they gave you are for life.

Thank you for teaching me everything you did. I hope I too taught you something to remember me by.

Signed,
Your ex-lover.

3

Character designs for my Death Gods in Love, La Muerte!Will ad Xibalba!Hannibal. I don’t have a storyline or anything for them because I ain’t got writing skills, but basically! Will and Hannibal love each other through life, death, and everything before, after and between.

Also it’s two of my otps merged together so

( e///V///e)

I’m sorry for promising to love you foever and then giving up only after a while of us being together. I’m sorry my voice became your favourite sound and my scent became your favourite smell. I’m sorry my eyes became your favourite colour, I’m sorry I became your home. I’m mostly sorry for breaking your heart and leaving you alone.
—  Tenari Ioapo // Apology to the love of my life #5.

‘No one makes me feel the way you do,’ she says into his chest, her voice muffled by his t-shirt, arms entwined in the twilight evening.

He laughs a little, runs his fingers through her hair, and looks up at the brightness of the stars, waiting for her to continue.

'It’s all your fault. When I see you in the mornings and your eyes are sleepy and your hair is still ruffled; when your roll up your shirtsleeves, or lean back and show off that bit of skin above your Calvins; when I look up from working and catch you looking at me as well, and the way you wink and carry on answering the question as if you weren’t reaching for my hand under the table that very minute- I’m incapable of anything other than longing for your touch, for it just to be me and you in that room, forever.’

He looks down then, smiles his beautiful lazy golden smile, and leans in even closer to whisper into her honeycomb curls.

'Oh, you don’t quite understand what you do to me either. You do the most incredible things to my heart, you can’t quite understand.’

—  j.f // and a new love is budding, built on a broken heart and golden smile • excerpts of stories I will never wrote @alotofunansweredquestions