It’s possible that every sound that
has ever been
might still be present
to the extent that in radiation we have found a
ghost of an echo that could be
the last note of the universe’s birth
held for an eternity
so every word you say will always
and every flower that wilts will have already
changed how the wind sings and every time
you tell someone “i love you,” it enters
the universe and continues forever
so gunshots and cymbals and kissing your best friend
all rebound in our lives no matter how much we try to
wash our palms of them
but what happens to the things
we don’t say
like every time he got in the car and you
didn’t beg him to come home or
when she danced in the rain and you
didn’t tell her that you had fallen in love
or when the inside of your palms had become
too heavy to hold but you couldn’t cry out for help
lest you hear your own words
what happens to the whispers we forget
to voice what happens to the lovers who wait
in the silence for things that our tongues
cannot find the strength to carry but
our hearts mean more than our
bodies can explain i mean can you still
hear the way i love you because
goddamn sound energy is just vibration
and you make me feel an explosion
in every nerve ending
but every sound we emit exists
for an eternity
so how could i tell you and let it
"I really really felt like I should’ve talked to this guy, but I didn’t and now I’m regretting it.” /// r.i.d
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.
Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her (via golden-notes)