Jodi Picoult, Vanishing Acts (via seaofwisdom)
"She took your troubles, but then again, she left pain."
Hello, I'm Megan. I'm 21years young and reside in merry ol' England. I like flowers, lipstick, vintage stuff, big sunglasses, fashion, music, gory films, dark humour and whiskey. I'm super indecisive about absolutely everything and don't really know what I want in life. I have no long-term goals..but I am easily inspired. I tend to over-analyse eveyrthing and wear my heart on my sleeve. It's a problem.
What if it turns out that a life isn’t defined by who you belong to or where you came from, by what you wished for or whom you’ve lost, but instead by the moments you spend getting from each of these places to the next?
Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don’t blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being “in love”, which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.
