lost-love

Her dreamy countenance infuriated me more than her words. I had seen that expression directed at me once upon a time.

I woke up with a heart attack just out of my field of vision and with my dick in my hand, saying, I love you I love you I love you over and over...And that my dear sweet love of my life, is how things were without you and I'd done everything I could to keep you from knowing that

Party lights hang over the street, yellow and red and green. Sadie stumbles over someone__ chair, but I__ ready for this and I catch her easily by the arm.__orry, clumsy,_ she says.__ou always were, Sadie. One of your more endearing traits.__efore she can ask about that I slip my arm around her waist. She slips hers around mine, still looking up at me. The lights skate across her cheeks and shine in her eyes. We clasp hands, fingers folding together naturally, and for me the years fall away like a coat that__ too heavy and too tight. In that moment, I hope on thing above all others: that she was not too busy to find at least one good man _She speaks in a voice almost too low to be heard over the music. But I hear her _ I always did. __ho are you, George?___omeone you knew in another life, honey.

You shattered the remainder of my heart, yet you expect me to be okay with it day after day.

I think about you. But I don't say it anymore.

You only reveal your game plan when you know you're winning, or losing.

Long ago, men went to sea, and women waited for them, standing on the edge of the water, scanning the horizon for the tiny ship. Now I wait for Henry. He vanishes unwillingly, without warning. I wait for him. Each moment that I wait feels like a year, an eternity. Each moment is as slow and transparent as glass. Through each moment I can see infinite moments lined up, waiting. Why has he gone where I cannot follow?

What should I feel after carving my bones? peeling off my skin? after sculpted my soul and damaging my fervour, just as the way you desire your appetite must be.Abandoned, forsaken, empty, perhaps..

I have forgot much, Cynara! gone with the wind,Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind;But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,Yea, all the time, because the dance was long;I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I am not collarbones or drunken letters never sent. I am not the way I leave or left or didn__ know how to handle anything,at any time,and I am not your fault.

Loving you is loosing my soul,I was in a lost battle, Death at my door,A dog in a backyard feels for my pain,Beer in a broken bottle wet paint and rain.

You told me mornings were the best time to break your own heart. So here I am, smoking your brand of cigarettes for the scent. I wonder if you still sing Beatles songs as you make coffee. You said your mother used to sing them to you when you couldn__ sleep, nineteen years before we met, twenty before you moved your clothes out of our closet while I was at work. By the way, I hate you for leaving all the photographs on the fridge. Taking them down felt like peeling off new scabs, like slapping a sunburn. I spent so many nights carving your body into pillows, I can promise you nothing feels like sleeping with your arm around me and your breath in my ear. Still, it__ comforting to know we sleep under the same moon, even if she__ so much older when she gets to me. I like to imagine she__ seen you sleeping and wants me to know you__e doing well.

Why is it you tell me the truth only when you've fallen asleep? It's then that you visit me.

He went on for some time while I sat listening in silence because I knew he was right, and like two people who have loved each other however imperfectly, who have tried to make a life together, however imperfectly, who have lived side by side and watched the wrinkles slowly form at the corner of the other's eyes, and watched a little drop of gray, as if poured from a jug, drop into the other's skin and spread itself evenly, listening to the other's coughs and sneezes and little collected mumblings, like two people who'd had one idea together and slowly allowed that idea to be replaced with two separate, less hopeful, less ambitious ideas, we spoke deep into the night, and the next day, and the next night. For forty days and forty nights, I want to say, but the fact of the matter is it only took three. One of us had loved the other more perfectly, had watched the other more closely, and one of us listened and the other hadn't, and one of us held on to the ambition of the one idea far longer than was reasonable, whereas the other, passing a garbage can one night, had casually thrown it away.

Why don__ you just pretend that the asshole dropped dead? You can__ call or write to a dead man. Put a couple of candles in front of his picture, say a few Hail Marys, and get it over with.

I have never forgotten, and I can't imagine you have, and I've thought of it over the years. It was so good, when it was good, I kept thinking. How could it go wrong?

He belongs to me, and I to him... without each-other, we are merely two lost pieces, empty, without purpose...

It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowBy the name of ANNABEL LEE;And this maiden she lived with no other thoughtThan to love and be loved by me.I was a child and she was a child,In this kingdom by the sea;But we loved with a love that was more than love-I and my Annabel Lee;With a love that the winged seraphs of heavenCoveted her and me.And this was the reason that, long ago,In this kingdom by the sea,A wind blew out of a cloud, chillingMy beautiful Annabel Lee;So that her highborn kinsman cameAnd bore her away from me,To shut her up in a sepulchreIn this kingdom by the sea.The angels, not half so happy in heaven,Went envying her and me-Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,In this kingdom by the sea)That the wind came out of the cloud by night,Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.But our love it was stronger by far than the loveOf those who were older than we-Of many far wiser than we-And neither the angels in heaven above,Nor the demons down under the sea,Can ever dissever my soul from the soulOf the beautiful Annabel Lee.For the moon never beams without bringing me dreamsOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyesOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the sideOf my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,In the sepulchre there by the sea,In her tomb by the sounding sea.