(Source: gregthehuman, via missnonhuman)
From this point on in our lives, she had whispered to him earlier, we will either find or lose our souls.
- Ondaatje, The English Patien
In the script, though, you and your girlfriend are already on the rocks and filled with resentments and anger and every conversation turns into a fight and you’ve stopped having sex a long time ago and then of course, like clockwork, someone appears who finds you attractive, who is not yet angry with you, who wants to win your affection. And then it’s just a hastening to the inevitable ending.
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Improbably, my affair … actually breathed new stamina and energy into my relationship with the bartender because I was now getting some relief, some kindness, and some sexual attention outside of the relationship, which took the heat off the expectation at home.
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Improbably, my affair … actually breathed new stamina and energy into my relationship with the bartender because I was now getting some relief, some kindness, and some sexual attention outside of the relationship, which took the heat off the expectation at home.
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Gabrielle Hamilton, Blood, Bones & Butter
YES! This is why I read, I think. To have someone describe your own experience so accurately. Or to give you legitimacy because its published text.
You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She’s not perfect - you aren’t either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don’t hurt her, don’t change her, don’t analyze and don’t expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she’s not there.
- Bob Marley on how to love a woman
When a woman is leaving her man, when a woman finally decides her departure,
Does she still need to water the plants every day?
Does she still need to wait until spring, until seeing the flowers come out in his garden, probably in two weeks? Or in three weeks?
Does she still need to wash his shirts, socks and jeans? Check all his pockets before washing them?
Does she still need to cook food every evening before he comes back? Soup, or rice? Or salad? Or noodles? Or just leave everything uncooked in the fridge? Like those days when he was a bachelor?
Does she still need to wash the dishes, and sweep the floor?
Does she still kiss him? When he comes back through the evening door?
Does she still prepare the hot water for him and pour refreshing bath oil in the hot water at night?
Does she still lie down beside him when he suffers migraine every two days? Or even worse, every single day?
Does she still touch his skinny body? Using her soft hand? Stroke his naked arm? His naked chest? His naked belly? And his naked legs?
Does she still want to make love with him?
Does she, or will she cry, when she feels her body needs somebody to cover it and warm it, but not this one, the one lies beside hers?
Does she, or will she say, I am leaving you, on a particular day? Or at a particular time? Or in a particular moment?
Does she, or will she hire a car or a taxi, to take all her things before he understands what’s happening?
Does she, or will she cry, cry loudly, when she starts leading her head to a new life, a life without anybody waiting for her and without anybody lighting a fire for her?
Does she still need to water the plants every day?
Does she still need to wait until spring, until seeing the flowers come out in his garden, probably in two weeks? Or in three weeks?
Does she still need to wash his shirts, socks and jeans? Check all his pockets before washing them?
Does she still need to cook food every evening before he comes back? Soup, or rice? Or salad? Or noodles? Or just leave everything uncooked in the fridge? Like those days when he was a bachelor?
Does she still need to wash the dishes, and sweep the floor?
Does she still kiss him? When he comes back through the evening door?
Does she still prepare the hot water for him and pour refreshing bath oil in the hot water at night?
Does she still lie down beside him when he suffers migraine every two days? Or even worse, every single day?
Does she still touch his skinny body? Using her soft hand? Stroke his naked arm? His naked chest? His naked belly? And his naked legs?
Does she still want to make love with him?
Does she, or will she cry, when she feels her body needs somebody to cover it and warm it, but not this one, the one lies beside hers?
Does she, or will she say, I am leaving you, on a particular day? Or at a particular time? Or in a particular moment?
Does she, or will she hire a car or a taxi, to take all her things before he understands what’s happening?
Does she, or will she cry, cry loudly, when she starts leading her head to a new life, a life without anybody waiting for her and without anybody lighting a fire for her?
- Xiaolu Guo, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers
