Vignette series.
Two.
And suddenly, it was like all the pieces had fallen together into place. There was an incarnation of hope and heaven and unrealistic, media-invoked expectations. As if the bugs had been wiped off the windshield and things were perfectly clear. Nothing mattered but this, just the deep-seated pang of belonging and utter content as you took in one another for the first time. As if his hand had always fit perfectly into the curve of your waist even when it wasn’t there. “Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt.” Nothing hurt as long as we had this. All you knew was this. You, me, this, now, everything. This is that part that romance novels struggled to articulate back when they were in fashion. The part we can only feel. We had found each other in every sense of the cliché. And if people were rain, we were, together, a hurricane.
Four.
“You’re sleeping in the other room…And I’m here, musing to perfect strangers that you fucked up my chemistry, extracted the cool I took 20 years building, and have my cells aching just to take a nap with you. Just to slip in beside you, close my eyes, reform my existence around you, and breathe in your pheromones because you can say it’s your aftershave all you want, but I know that what I crave is you. I want to find you again. I want that more than anything, but I don’t know how so I miss you, here, in the other room…Love on the left hand, Faith on the right.”
It was like the pieces had fallen into place, together and all at once. As if the bugs had been wiped off the windshield and things were clear. Nothing mattered but this, just the deep pang of belonging and euphoria as you breathed in one another. As if his hand had always fit perfectly into the curve of my waist even when it wasn’t there. Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt. Nothing hurt as long as we were hand in hand. All you knew was this. You, me, this, now, everything. This is that part that romance novels struggled to articulate. The part we can only feel. We had found each other. And if people were rain, we were, together, a hurricane.
I think it’s great for two people to be together. That is a good number. I think, that to keep it alive though, you can’t spend every day together. It wears out the magic, Love means nothing to me if it’s not fortified with fierce, painful longing, brief explosive instances of furious passion and intimacy and then a sad parting for a time. In that way, you can give your life to it and still have a life of your own. I think some couples spend too much time together. They flatten out the potential for experience by constant closeness. Passion builds over time like steam. Let it rage until it’s exhausted and then leave it alone to let it build up again. Why can’t love be insane and distorted? How can it be vital if it has the same threshold as normal day-to-day experience?
Why can’t you write burning letters and let your nocturnal self smolder with desire for one who is not there? Why not let the days before you see her be excruciating and ferment in your mind so on the day you go to the airport to pick her up, you’re nearly sick with anticipation? And then when desire shows the first sign of contentment, throw it back it its cage and let it slowly build itself back into a state of starved fury. Then when you are together, it all matters. So that when you look into her eyes, you lose your balance, so that when she touches you, it feels like you have never been touched before. When she says your name, you think it was she who named you. When she has gone, you bury your face in the pillow to smell her hair and you lie awake at night remembering your face in her neck, her breathing and the amazing smell of her skin. Your eyes go wet because you want her so bad and miss her so much. Now that is worth the miles and the time. That matches the inferno of life. Otherwise you poison each other with your presence day after day as you drag each other through the inevitable mundane aspects of your lives. That is the slow death that I see slapped on faces everywhere I go. It’s part of the world’s sadness that’s more empty than cold, poorly lit rooms in cities of the American night.
” Henry Rollins (via prozacrock)(Source: anditslove)
My best friend Tina decided to get her second tattoo with her girlfriend one morning, and she knew exactly what her second piece of art was gonna be: The equality symbol with one of her favorite quotes, “Love has no gender.” The piece holds a lot of meaning, for she believes that love should not be judged or criticized or shot down. Love is love, and is completely blind to gender. The LGBT community is fully aware of the meaning behind the equality symbol, and it is growing in all communities in the nation, and the world. It’s a fight for complete equality, not just equality for LGBT communities. She decided to put the piece near her heart (And she has one of the biggest hearts, just to add lol). Her tattoo has a lot of meaning, and its epitomizes her core beliefs, that love is love, and we all have a right to it.
The piece was done at Living Dead Tattoo, in Las Vegas, NV. They do a lot of awesome work, so you guys should check them out if you’re in the area :)
tinamolina.tumblr.com - the original source.
The Ways In Which I Will Love You « Thought Catalog
This is beautiful. Love more.
this film, this line <3
This is my first tattoo, done by Brian at West Haven Tattoo in CT. It means “But have not love, I am nothing,” in Thai and is my favorite verse. I got the opportunity to go to Thailand a few years ago and work in the orphanages. I have never experienced love like I did there and it came at an important time in my life. It reminds me everyday that without love, we’re nothing.
when i’m with you, i am calm, a pearl in your oyster. head on my chest, a silent smile, a private kind of happiness. you see, giant proclamations are all very well but our love is louder than words.
What if it doesn’t work out?
Ah, but what if it does?” Peter McWilliams
miss you
(Source: zakkrevitt)
