“ and my pack so light I’m sure I’ve left something behind—but only my worry, and only for a moment. ”
Still, his apartment has that dreamlike qualityof feeling like home though I know it’s not. Not mine anymore — but how many people get to visit the past without hurting anything?To come back and drink the same coffeefrom the same never-quite-clean cup?
~ Jameson Fitzpatrick
We must love one another whether or not we die.Love can’t block a bulletbut it can’t be destroyed by one either,and love is, for the most part, what makes Us Us—in Orlando and in Brooklyn and in Kabul.We will be everywhere, always;there’s nowhere else for Us, or you, to go.Anywhere you run in this world, love will be there to greet you.Around any corner, there might be two men. Kissing.
I do. I choose you, which is to choose him and the others and t
LeavingHe stood backlitby windows full of winter,a shade thrown over his face.What a waste, I thought.What relief.