Читать книгу i am the love letter - lillian grace - Страница 17

When I become too close to someone I begin to ignore the first impression I had of them for I feel I know them deeper.

But sometimes the first impression will whisper things to you that will save you from being drawn in.

For that impression is still a part of them. You just choose to look past it now.

I believe love is the purest form of ignorance. For if silence is death and love is also death, that means love is silence. Silence about what you know. What you choose to pretend that you don’t care about.

When people tell me they hate love, I tell them “that isn’t love.”It isn’t. It’s someone disguising themselves and doing a shitty job. For how can you hate something that is the only reason you exist. I love my work. Nothing more. Not now. I love the city. Nothing more. Not now. I am a hypocrite. For I often times also say that I hate love. And maybe I believe I do. But that’s useless. It’s useless to hate the inevitable. It’s useless to hate what consumes me. It’s better to just let it. Sometimes if you relax, it’s a little bit easier to fall. I love you and you are in my city. I love you and you are my city. You are a skyscraper of everything I’ve ever known to be true about the goodness of humanity. You are bustling yet quiet in just the right places. You are colorful. You stare at me like you know I have something to prove. I wear a reminder of the city around my neck every day. Sometimes I stare at it and wish one day we’ll be in that city at the same time and I can take you out to breakfast and look at you until sunset. I miss you. And I tell you nearly every day. You always say it back. I wonder if it’s just out of pity. For I really do miss you. The last time I talked to you, you held me like I was the only thing keeping you from floating away into the sky. I’ve never felt my heart beat louder than in that moment. Do it again. Do it a million times. I want to break the record. Sometimes I consider walking back into my church choir one day and sitting next to you. I’d be in the wrong vocal section. I don’t even go to church anymore because I don’t believe in the same god that you do. But I’d give it all up to get to talk to you for even a moment. It’s been too long. It’s been way too fucking long. I have so much to tell you. One day, when we meet again, I’ll say it all. Hopefully I don’t float away. I hope I float away. Because I’ll know if you really need me when you’re the one who gets to decide if I keep falling towards the sky.