I am not normal. I never will be.
At first, I thought it was only your body I wanted. But something about you has made me greedy as hell. I want everything. Your love. Your mind. Your secrets. Your soul.
She couldn’t run away from him. She’d be running from her own heart.
Dearest Cecilia, the story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once crossed the surrey park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you and live without shame.
She was weak and helpless, shaken in mind and nerve. It was to take her at a disadvantage to obtrude love upon her at such a time.
Painters, writers, musicians are lonely people. So are statesmen and admirals and generals. But then, I added to be fair, so are criminals and lunatics. Let’s just say, not to be too flattering, that true individuals are lonely. – Vivienne Michel.
Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone’s hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted – wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don’t look at me. If you don’t, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me.
All I want is someone decent.” She sniffled again, her eyes filling with tears. “You know? Kind. Good. Like in all those love stories I’m such an expert on. It can’t just be fiction. It can’t. Those guys are out there, I know it. I just can’t find them.” Those guys were out there. In fact, one was watching us right now, somewhere nearby. Keeping his distance, knowing she needed me to herself right then, but still, just outside the door.
Isn’t that the way everything begins? A night, a love, a once and for all.
For you, I wish for second chances.
Don’t think or judge,′ I said. ‘Just listen.
He kissed her because it came about quite naturally; he found sweetness sleeping still upon her lips, and felt that he had never been away.
Their hands touched for an instant, but neither spoke. Silences were becoming more frequent and more delicious.
There was the starlight set upon the brilliant darkness; and there were her pale cool cheeks, and he let himself be lost in love for her, as he had so wanted to do.
He drew her very tenderly close and their lips met like starved hearts.
Almost painfully he took his eyes from her.
Suddenly I wasn’t thinking of Daisy or Gatsby anymore, but of this clean, hard, limited person, who dealt in universal skepticism, and who leaned back jauntily just within the circle of my arm.
He held her hand and she gave him such a look that he whispered her name aloud.
I’m afraid I’m in love with you and that’s not the best thing that could happen.
Nothing had ever felt so young as her lips.