There’s a Japanese phrase that I like: koi no yokan. It doesn’t mean love at first sight. It’s closer to love at second sight. It’s the feeling when you meet someone that you’re going to fall in love with them. Maybe you don’t love them right away, but it’s inevitable that you will.
We are capable of big lives. A big history. Why settle? Why choose the practical thing, the mundane thing? We are born to dream and make the things we dream about.
Sometimes your world shakes so hard, it's difficult to imagine that everyone else isn't feeling it too.
I don't believe in love." "It's not a religion," he says. "It exists whether you believe in it or not.
Stars are important," I say, laughing. "Sure, but why not more poems about the sun? The sun is also a star, and it's our most important one. That alone should be worth a poem or two.
Growing up and seeing your parents' flaws is like losing your religion. I don't believe in God anymore. I don't believe in my father either.
We have big, beautiful brains. We invent things that fly. Fly. We write poetry. You probably hate poetry, but it’s hard to argue with ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate’ in terms of sheer beauty. We are capable of big lives. A big history. Why settle? Why choose the practical thing, the mundane thing? We are born to dream and make the things we dream about.
People just want to believe. Otherwise they would have to admit that life is just a random series of good and bad things that happen until one day you die.
I think all the good parts of us are connected on some level. The part that shares the last double chocolate chip cookie or donates to charity or gives a dollar to a street musician or becomes a candy striper or cries at Apple commercials or says I love you or I forgive you. I think that's God. God is the connection of the very best parts of us.
People make mistakes all the time. Small ones, like you get in the wrong checkout line. The one with the lady with a hundred coupons and a checkbook. Sometimes you make medium-sized ones. You go to medical school instead of pursuing you passion. Sometimes you make big ones. You give up.
Do you think it's funny that both of our favourite memories are about the people we like the least now?" I ask. "Maybe that's why we dislike them," she says. "The distance between who they were and who they are is so wide, we have no hope of getting them back.
I love this part of getting to know someone. How every new piece of information, every new expression, seems magical. I can't imagine this becoming old and boring. I can't imagine not wanting to hear what she has to say.
I kiss him to get him to stop talking. If he keeps talking I will love him, and I don't want to love him. I really don't. As strategies go, it's not my finest. Kissing is just another way of talking except without the words.
We're kindling amid lightning strikes, a lit match and dry wood, fire danger signs and a forest waiting to be burned.
If people who were actually born here had to prove they were worthy enough to live in America, this would be a much less populated country.
We think we want all the time in the world with the people we love, but maybe what we need is the opposite. Just a finite amount of time, so we still think the other person is interesting. Maybe we don't need acts two and three. Maybe love is best in act one.
Maybe part of falling in love with someone else is also falling in love with yourself. I like who I am with her.
I am really not a girl to fall in love with. For one thing, I don’t like temporary, nonprovable things, and romantic love is both temporary and nonprovable.
I want things that I can name, and some things that I can’t. I want this one moment to last forever, but I don’t want to miss all the other moments to come. I want our entire future together, but I want it here and now.
Human beings are not reasonable creatures. Instead of being rule by logic, we are ruled by emotions. The world would be a happier place if the opposite were true.
I know for sure that I will always compare every city skyline to New York's. Just as I will always compare every boy to Daniel.
For most immigrants, moving to the new country is an act of faith. Even if you've heard stories of safety, opportunity, and prosperity, it's still a leap to remove yourself from your own language, people, and country. Your own history. What if the stories weren't true? What if you couldn't adapt? What if you weren't wanted in the new country?.
And what about the lovers who spend hours staring into each other's eyes? Is it a display of trust? I will let you in close and trust you not to hurt me while I'm in this vulnerable position. And if trust is one of the foundations of love, perhaps the staring is a way to build or reinforce it. Or maybe it's simpler than that. A simple search for connection. To see. To be seen.
All of which isn’t to say that Jeremy Fitzgerald did the right thing or the wrong thing. It’s only to say this: love always changes everything.
It's better to see life as it is, not as you wish it to be. Things don't happen for a reason. They just happen.
There’s a pure kind of joy in the certainty of belief. The certainty that your life has purpose and meaning. That, though your earthly life may be hard, there’s a better place in your future, and God has a plan to get you there.
When Natasha thinks about love, this is what she thinks: nothing lasts forever. Like hydrogen-7 or lithium-5 or boron-7, love has an infinitesimally small half-life that decays to nothing. And when its gone, its like it was never there at all.
This is where I would've taken Daniel. I would've told him to write poetry about space rocks and impact craters. The sheer number of actions and reactions it's taken to form our solar system, our galaxy, our universe, is astonishing. The number of things that had to go exactly right is overwhelming. Compared to that, what is falling in love? A series of small coincidences that we say means everything because we want to believe that our tiny lives matter on a galactic scale. But falling in love doesn't even begin to compare to the formation of the universe. It's not even close.
I love the way she seems to feel things with her entire body. I wonder why a girl who is so obviously passionate is so adamantly against passion.
He remembers another moment: They'd just found each other again after their fight. She'd talked about the number of events that had to exactly right to form their universe. She'd said falling in love couldn't compete. He's always thought she was wrong about that. Because everything looks like chaos up close. Daniel thinks it's a matter of scale. If you pull back far enough and wait for long enough, then order emerges. Maybe their universe is just taking longer to form.
I really don't know. I guess I'm more interested in why people feel like they have to believe in God. Why can't it just be science? Science is wondrous. The night sky? Amazing. The inside of a human cell? Incredible. Something that tells us we're born bad and that people use to justify all their petty prejudices and awfulness? I dunno. I guess I believe in science. Science is enough.
How can this be the same day? How can all these people be going about their lives totally oblivious to what’s been happening to mine? Sometimes your world shakes so hard, it’s difficult to imagine that everyone else isn’t feeling it too.
Why not more poems about the sun? The sun is also a star, and it's our most important one. That alone should be worth a poem or two.
If snow falls in a city and no one is around to feel it, is it still cold? Yes. The answer to that question is yes.
He thinks my hair smells like spring rain. I'm really trying to remain stoic and unaffected. I remind myself that I don't like poetic language. I don't like poetry. I don't even like people who like poetry. But I'm not dead inside either.
The thing about being a fish on a hook is the more you try to get off, the more trapped you are. The hook just buries itself deeper and you bleed a little more. You can't get off the hook. You can only go through it. Said another way: the hook has to go through you, and it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker.
It seems like such a long time ago when I thought the world of him. He was some exotic planet and I was his favorite satellite. But he's no planet, just the final fading light of an already dead star. And I'm not a satellite. I'm space junk, hurtling as far as I can away from him.
As our eyes meet, I get a kind of deja vu, but instead of feeling like I'm repeating something in the past, it feels like I'm experiencing something that will happen in my future...It's like knowing all the words to a song but still finding them beautiful and surprising.
Can you imagine if everyone had the power to mess with everyone else's lives? Chaos." But of course, this is the problem. We already have that power over each other.
Better to have a tragic and sudden end than to have a long drawn-out one where we realize that we're just too different, and that love alone is not enough to bind us. I think all these things. I believe none of them.
Her world is bigger than him and the things he taught her to be interested in. He doesn't know when she outgrew him.
And then I realize what Charlie's problem with Daniel is. He hates that Daniel doesn't hate himself. For all his uncertainties, Daniel is still more comfortable in his skin than Charlie will ever be in his.
They kiss, and kiss again. When they do finally pull apart, it's with a new knowledge. They have a sense that the length of a day is mutable, and you can never see the end from the beginning. They have a sense that love changes all things all the time. That's what love is for.
But I like my big Afro. I also liked when my hair was longer and relaxed. I’m happy to have choices. They’re mine to make.
One of those stars is Daniel. I remind myself that stars are more than just poetic. If you need to, you can navigate your way by them.
I love this part of getting to know someone. How every new piece of information, every new expression, seems magical.