Getting old is the second-biggest surprise of my life, but the first, by a mile, is our unceasing need for deep attachment and intimate love. We oldies yearn daily and hourly for conversation and a renewed domesticity, for company at the movies or while visiting a museum, for someone close by in the car when coming home at night. This is why we throng Match.com and OkCupid in such numbers—but not just for this, surely. Rowing in Eden (in Emily Dickinson’s words: “Rowing in Eden— / Ah—the sea”) isn’t reserved for the lithe and young, the dating or the hooked-up or the just lavishly married, or even for couples in the middle-aged mixed-doubles semifinals, thank God. No personal confession or revelation impends here, but these feelings in old folks are widely treated like a raunchy secret. The invisibility factor—you’ve had your turn—is back at it again. But I believe that everyone in the world wants to be with someone else tonight, together in the dark, with the sweet warmth of a hip or a foot or a bare expanse of shoulder within reach. Those of us who have lost that, whatever our age, never lose the longing: just look at our faces. If it returns, we seize upon it avidly, stunned and altered again.
This has to be one of my favorite post on tumblr.
wow this is so clever
"Let your love be like the misty rains, coming softly, but flooding the river."
Malagasy Proverb (via icanrelateto)
"The pupil of your eye expands up to 45% when you look at someone you love."
"I want everyone to meet you. You’re my favorite person of all time."
Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park (via perfect)
"Write her a letter, send her a flower, love only gets old if you let it."
William Chapman (via asdfghjkllove)