“She was a writer and because of that, I think she was afraid to love sometimes. You couldn’t see love or you couldn’t touch love or you couldn’t smell love. No, love was an abstract thing. And no matter how hard she tried, there was nothing she could point to and say what it was. And no matter how badly she wanted to, she couldn’t find the right words to capture it and pin it down. It scared her because she didn’t know how to hold on to it, because she didn’t know how to make sure it never changed.”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s