My heart didn’t break into a thousand pieces after he left. Instead, I realized all the things he didn’t do. He didn’t want to hear my stories. He didn’t ask me questions. He didn’t smile when I was talking to him. He didn’t hug me out of the blue to make me feel good. His hugs were always a preamble to something else and after he was gone, I wondered if he ever knew me at all.
Nobody can teach me who I am. You can describe parts of me, but who I am - and what I need - is something I have to find out myself.
Dawn is a color
I am condemned to describe
Know when to walk away. Know when to draw the line between determination and desperation
The role of the artist is exactly the same as the role of the lover. If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you don’t see.