Your eyes are the only thing that ever gave me inclination to believe that the rumour of heaven could be true; and that is cool with me.
The thing that I miss about love, or that I admire most in its concept; is courage. When you find yourself lucky enough to be getting the good stuff, you are ten-foot-tall-and-bulletproof. That’s just the default setting. Step it up and you’ll feel like you could save the whole gods-be-damned world (regardless of whether or not it is deserving).
Last night I remembered that I had known the reasons all along, and instead of despairing the ambiguity I elected to embrace it.
As I admitted this aloud, a truly strange and beautiful thing happened. It sent shivers down my spine. Ironically, just like you. It’s not the sort of thing you write down, the impact of the delivery’s all in the telling; and I will, when I see you again.
I’ve decided that the cold is no good for anyone. I cannot recommend it. How long before it finds you where you are? Come back to the heat, life’s waiting for you.
(It’s all in your mind.)