Nov 22, 2016
“Stay,” he pleaded. “We could make a home together.” “Don’t you know I wish I could,” she said, folding away a dress into a small leather briefcase—the cheap hotel curtains flapping in the wind through an open window. “But you have a tourist heart,” she goes. “Room enough for the essentials, but very little else. You travel spontaneously from place to place—leaving your mark before quickly moving on. And that is OK.” She finished packing her things and moved slowly towards the door. “My time with you was beautiful,” she said. “But it was never home.”
Beau Taplin • T o u r i s t H e a r t (via afadthatlastsforever)
