June 2010
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“The night before I lost everything was like any other night. Anna and I kept each other awake very late. We laughed. Young sisters in a bed under the roof of their childhood home. Wind on the window. How could anything less deserves to be destroyed? I thought we would be awake all night. Awake for the rest of our lives. The spaces between our words grew. It became difficult to tell when we were talking and when we were silent. The hairs of our arms touched. It was late, and we were tired. We assumed there would be other nights. Anna’s breathing started to slow, but I still wanted to talk. She rolled onto her side. I said, I want to tell you something. She said, You can tell me tomorrow. I had never told her how much I loved her. She was my sister. We slept in the same bed. There was never a right time to say it. It was always unnecessary. The sheets were rising and falling around me with Anna’s breathing. I thought about waking her. But it was unnecessary. There would be other nights. And how can you say I love you to someone you love? I rolled onto my side and fell asleep next to her. Here is the point of everything I have been trying to tell you,
‘It’s always necessary.’”
” —Jonathan Safran-Foer, ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’Write one leaf about lipstick.
(via writeoneleaf)
I will make this “leaf” apply to my chapstick obsession because there truly this is the love of my lips. Anyhoo, there will never be a moment where I don’t have a chapstick in my pocket because you never know when your lips may feel dried or chapped. (This for me, is very often, probably because of my growing dependence on chapstick.) When my chapstick runs out, I lose it, or my friends steal it, a true problem arises. Without chapstick for too long, I cannot function. I’m sorry lipstick but I prefer the natural refreshment of chapstick without coloring etc.
“I was walking to see you.” I told her, “I’ve come to your house the last six days. For some reason I needed to see you again.” She was silent, I had made a fool of myself, there’s nothing wrong with not understanding yourself and she started laughing, the laughter brought on tears, and the tears brought on more tears, and then I started laughing, out of the most deep and complete shame, “I was walking to you,” I said again, as if to push my nose into my own shit, “because I wanted to see you again,” she laughed and laughed, “That explains it,” she said when she was able to speak. “It?” “That explains why, each of the last six days, you weren’t at your house.” We stopped laughing, I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: “Do you like me?”
—
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathon Safran Foer (via alittlebitofeverythingglorious)
Honestly one of the best books I’ve ever read, arguably my favorite.
