You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy.
Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm.
— Cormac Mccarthy, Suttree
Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.
For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love.
People who are harder to love pose a challenge, and the challenge makes them easier to love. You’re driven to love them. People who want their love easy don’t really want love.
I want you to stop making me sick.
I want you to go away and not stay away.
Could you bring me razor blades when you come back?
and a sandwich of begonias and glass?
On a balmy summer day when you feel young and fresh and slender. Partly because you make me feel higher than any drug possibly could, partly because you make me feel like I’m worth loving, partly because you can make me feel warmer than the sun. It’s hard to believe when I’m with you that I could feel this childlike and safe. A giant sense of relief is lifted off my shoulders because I now know that I never have to spend another night wondering if anyone could ever adore me on a cold winter day when I have a puffy face and stomach and my scalp is itchy and my mouth tastes like blue cheese and my jeans no longer fit and I start to look less like the person you first met and fell in love with. I don’t have to get my eyebrows waxed or buy the right skin creams or go to the gym after work and buy jeans that make my ass look good. I don’t need to trick anyone anymore.
When a relationship starts with, “This isn’t going to be a thing, right?” and then progresses to, “I just don’t see myself being with one person forever,” as ours did, it doesn’t really matter how long you are together. You never really feel stable. There were wonderful, dizzy times when we were perfectly coordinated, and there were others where I felt adrift on my own like a synchronized swimmer who never learned the routine.
I want you to miss me. I want you to recognize me in your morning cereal and the voice of your favorite singer. I want you to wonder where I am when your fingers are stretched beneath your waistband, when you’re lighting up, when you’re tripping up the uneven step on your basement stairs. I want you to think of me when you look into your teacup and your rearview mirror. I want you.
You are terrifying and strange and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.
Those doing soul work, who want the searing truth more than solace or applause, know each other right away. Those who want something else turn and take a seat in another room. Soul-makers find each other’s company.
I still catch myself feeling blue about things that don’t matter anymore.
And she finds it difficult to believe — that a person would love her even when she isn’t trying. Trying to figure out what other people need, trying to be worthy.
I actually attack the concept of happiness. The idea that - I don’t mind people being happy - but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It’s a really odd thing that we’re now seeing people saying “write down 3 things that made you happy today before you go to sleep”, and “cheer up” and “happiness is our birthright” and so on. We’re kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position - it’s rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don’t teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say “Quick! Move on! Cheer up!” I’d like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word “happiness” and to replace it with the word “wholeness”. Ask yourself “is this contributing to my wholeness?” and if you’re having a bad day, it is.