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Grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. This is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.

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ink--scratch

it's an art, you know. loving someone you can't have? it's an art. it's a way to convince yourself that, even if you can't confess to them, you're capable of caring enough to want to wake up in the morning. it's a testament to all of the pain you've been through. tells you that the map you've followed all your life, with all of its twists and turns and roadblocks, has lead you right where you need to be: here, alive, loving. loving. loving. and yeah, maybe you can say it to them, those three words. you can't really mean it, though, and that's what hurts, right? you can tell them, "i love you. i hope you're happy and healthy. you deserve it." you can tell them, "you're my favorite person. i love you so much." you can tell them, "you're the best friend i've ever had. i love you." no matter what, you can shower them with love. pray they understand. and if they don't? the heart beating in your chest is a consolation, isn't it?

onyxedskies

yes, our ability to love makes us human, but love is not exclusive to romance.

the things that make us human are our favorite flowers, our favorite colors, our favorite characters. the way we find personality in inanimate things. the way we hug our friends when we haven’t seen them in a while. the way we can enjoy typically unpleasant things - like running through a rainstorm - when we’re with our friends or siblings. love is around us, inherent within us, but it’s broader than just romance.

justmelookingbackatme

I think I fall in love with people like they're the sun.

They're bright, and dazzling, and I have a gravitational pull towards them. But while I'm drawn to them and I can't quite tear myself out of their orbit, their gravity still leaves me ninety three million miles away, and that's where I'm happiest.

I want to be around them, most of the time. I want warmth and sunlight on my skin; I want to see them glow.

But I don't want to be around them for too long, or my skin will burn.

And I don't want to be closer to them, because my wings will melt and I'll crash into the sea. I'm not meant to love them up close, and I don't want to.

I fall in love with people like they're the sun, in their orbit but from a distance.

yeesiine

“for you, i would” a love language.

tuverras

on tragedy, fate, and inevitability.

oresteia, robert icke // theatre of the oppressed, augusto boal // song of achilles, madeline miller // the book thief, markus zusak // antigone, jean anouilh // revisiting mockingjay ahead of the hunger games prequel, entertainment weekly // romeo and juliet, shakespeare // h of h playbook, anne carson // war of the foxes, richard siken // the road to hell (reprise), hadestown // planet of love, richard siken // they both die at the end, adam silvera