im sick, i should be sleeping
and i wonder why i had to pick such nights to stay awake
i opened the door and stood at the corridor outside
i like the view from my house, not too high to see nothing
and not too low to be unable to make out details
the air was cold, i looked up at the skies
then my vision blurred
i knew it
i was trying to ignore that
constant tagging at my heart for so long
i miss you, perhaps more than i thought
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AINT NO AVERAGE.
LOVE.
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
Captain Corelli's Mandolin
Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being in love which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.
Captain Corelli's Mandolin
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