— Elizabeth Bowen
I don’t miss you at all. Not at all. Until all of the lights are off and the only sound I can hear is that of my own shallow breath. The breath that I can’t quite fill. The breath that hasn’t been full since the night you were gone. For my breath has no breath beside me to match it to.
Bach - Cello Suite No. 2 in D Minor BWV1008
Everything is prettier in D minor.
One day all of your sadness will be lifted by joy and those sorrows will no longer weigh you down and that will be a glorious day.
May the bridges I burn light the way…
If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph…
— Miriam Adeney (via awelltraveledwoman)
Sometimes I feel as though I don’t have one singular heart. I have a heart of hopeful love for the current, a heart, utterly broken from the last, and a heart cold as ice belonging to the first. In between those I have a heart of mixed emotion, a heart of “what ifs,” and a heart of tried and done. If only I could have a heart that builds and repairs from loves that were lost and loves that were gained. Instead, I am haunted by my hearts’ past. Never to forgive, never to forget. Never to love and to have lost and to love again. Only fragments of love and hurt, impossible to file away and to overcome. I love him, I loved you more, I am stuck with a thousand hearts of memories, a heart for every love.