Quotes About Yearning

I wish it were socially acceptable to brandish a knife.

It would be nice to have something alive to hold on to right now, something to love me, something with a beating heart that I can feel, something to be with me as I sit here, in hell, trying to figure it out.

You miss me. And I miss you. It hurts, seeing you at that fire, giving your hands to the heat, the way I gave my hand to fire, only different. I imagine pushing you into the red abyss and jumping in after you, with you, so we can burn together, forever, a tree of life, light, sex.

the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates.

I wish there were a way for me to ask about a red ladle but it's not a normal question

Sometimes you love someone so much that you can't bear a taste or a text because only this kind of moment will do. Shared air. Stillness on a love seat.

the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing

Well," I say and I should shut up and I want to shut up but you make me want to talk.

know it's hard, being with the wrong person when the right person is right here.

and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates.

know I should apologize and tell her that she's right, that I do wish Jon would see me, that it's eating me alive. But the thing about things that break your heart, it's hard to validate them by saying them out loud.

I try to help you move on, but you don't know why she hates you and it's all you want to talk about. Every. Fucking. Night. And it would be easier if these talks were happening on a park bench or your stoop or your sofa or your bed that I assembled but they're happening over the phone. And I can't smell you over the phone and I feel like a 1-900-Build-Me-Up hotline you call to feel good about yourself.

Stevie Wonder sings about his precious daughter—Isn't she lovely made from love?—and we'll never have a daughter and I lose my temper

Sometimes I picture the crack in my heart. It flares up when something reminds me of Jon.

Acid shoots through my esophagus, all that leftover love with no place to go.

The internet has eliminated so much wonder and romance.

say and the problem with books is that they end. They seduce you. They spread their legs to you and pull you inside. And you go deep and leave your possessions and your ties to the world at the door and you like it inside and you don't want for your possessions or your ties and then, the book evaporates. You turn the page and there is nothing

The atmosphere changes immediately. And there's an out of the way place where your mind stores things. You can't reach it yourself. It's like the game Operation and you are the body and someone else has to have a steady hand, they have to poke that part of you, that hot spot. When you get what you want, what you always wanted, what it means to be you is to want this thing and now you have it and there is a roar. Love.

The wanting overwhelms me, the way it does sometimes. I hit the mute button and I feel my heartbeat quicken as I dial her number. I know I shouldn't.

You want to go places you can't go.

I care and I want to know more and I want to cry and I don't want you to fall for anyone but me.

because this morning you didn't know you were gonna want me.

Everyone here wants so badly to be watched, noticed. And the upside is that the desire to be watched is a blindfold.

But the most important thing I know is that I want the possibility of you more than the reality of Karen Minty.