Love me less, but love me for a long time

You know what’s a great metaphor for love? Sleeping beauty. Because you have to plow through this incredible thicket of thorns in order to get to beauty, and even then, when you get there, you still have to wake her up. — Tiny Cooper

How amazing it is that friendships can become so full that you can't imagine what your life was like before them.

It is not desire. Instead it is something deeper. I don't want to be with him constantly and forever. I want to be with him for the moment, and I want the moments to go on forever.

This is what you do now to give your day topography--scan the boxes, read the news, see the chain of your friends reporting about themselves, take the 140-character expository bursts and sift through for the information you need. It's a highly deceptive world, one that constantly asks you to comment but doesn't really care what you have to say. The illusion of participation can sometimes lead to participation. But more often than not, it only leads to more illusion, dressed in the guise of reality.

Moments into minutes. Minutes into hours. Hours into days. Days into years. Years into possibility. This will linger.

We'd said we'd keep in touch. But touch is not something you can keep; as soon as it's gone, it's gone. We should have said we'd keep in words, because they are all we can string between us--words on a telephone line, words appearing on a screen.