Smoothemuse

Love, I thought to myself abstractedly. Not ‘This is love’ or ‘Is this love?’ Not a sentence, not a certainty, not a thought with moving parts or direction. Just love, all of it, as it is. Whether it’s enough or not. Whether it’s real or we’re making it up. However shoddy it gets, or bent out of shape. It’s still extraordinary. However foolish, however vain. However badly it ends. Love.


Julian Gough » Juno & Juliet: A Novel (via devincastro)
Via Devin Castro
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