- I've never had a really close friend, and I'm unclear how you make one. It's silly, I know. I've seen other people do it. They make it seem so easy: Have fun, open up, share stories. But how am I supposed to do that when the one story I really want to tell is the very one I'm supposed to be wiping clean?
- I don't seem to know how to open up to people without getting the door slammed in my face.
- I have a full life. How can I be this empty?
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- "Well, there was this guy..." I begin.
- He shakes his head and gently clucks his tongue like a sweetly scolding grandmother. "There always is."
- I fill three pages. None of what I'm writing will help me find him. But in writing, I feel good--no, not just good, but full. Right, somehow. It's a feeling I haven't experienced in a long, long time, and it's this more than anything that convinces me to look for him.
- And the people we pretend at, they're already us. That's why we pretend them in the first place.
- Sometimes, you can only feel something by its absence. By the empty space it leaves behind.
- And that's when I understand that I have been stained. Whether I'm still in love with him, whether he was ever in love with me, and no matter who he's in love with now, Willem changed my life. He showed me how to get lost, and the I showed myself how to get found.
may 3 2014 ∞
may 3 2014 +
may 3 2014 +