Sometimes I think life is about learning to get as close to what sustains you as you possibly can, without ever touching it. That seems like an appropriately beautiful, tragic way for the universe to work. The moment before a kiss is always excruciating and incredible. The memory of a lover is always unbearably sweet and terrifyingly hazy. The silence right after a song ends is always heartbreakingly sacred. What if life is about not touching the things you love?
I'm not sure I could stand it if I knew I was right.