strictly random

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It’s hard to remember what you fall in love with. Usually it is an expression in the eyes, an exchange, or a gesture or the sound of a voice, a word spoken. Those things can get blended with the atmosphere around you at the time — a fragrance in the air, a play of light, even music — so that they become almost one with each other and when you see or smell or hear the memories of a place you feel the love again, but as a pang of loss. Sometimes the feelings get connected so deeply to your body that even your own skin, your own eyes in the mirror remind you of what you no longer have. Sometimes it only takes a few things for someone to attach the way I did — enough hunger, enough loneliness, enough loss, someone who will feed you and touch you and listen. Sometimes attachment — call it love — is more complex than that. When you are in the state I was in, love can be tied up with other things, like excitement and danger, and the desire to know what really happened, what actually took place.

1,978 notes

Some women let you kiss them while some kissed you back— but just. Others kissed with enthusiasm, but it was with the same kind of enthusiasm they felt for a good meal, a Bette Davis film, or a lovely present they’d just been given. But she was different. She was hungry for you, hungry to kiss you, to hear what you had to say; hungry to tell you what was on her mind. To his mind, this overall hunger was what defined her. It was the greatest compliment he had ever received from a woman and he never grew tired of it.