I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.
I love you. Remember. They cannot take it
Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge. That's what it is: an edge; a razor. It draws up through the center of your life, cutting everything in two. Before and after. The rest of the world falls away on either side.
No one can tell us no. No one can make us stop. We have picked each other and the rest of the world can go to hell.
I think of the quietness of Julian's voice as he said I love you, the steadiness of his rib cage rising and falling against my back, as we sleep.I love you, Julian. But the words don't come.
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