The Lover's Dictionary

detachment, n.

Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation midsentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another direction. But I always glance back at you.

flux, n.

The natural state. Our moods change. Our lives change. Our feelings for each other change. Our bearings change. The song changes. The air changes. The temperature of the shower changes.

Accept this. We must accept this.

incessant, adj.

The doubts. You had to save me from my constant doubts. That deep-seeded feeling that I wasn’t good enough for anything — I was a fake at my job, I wasn’t your equal, my friends would forget me if I moved away for a month. It wasn’t as easy as hearing voices — nobody was telling me this. It was just something I knew. Everyone else was playing along, but I was sure that one day they would all stop.

latitude, n.

What a strange phrase — –not seeing other people. As if it’s been constructed to be a lie. We see other people all the time. The question is what we do about it.

misgivings, n.

Last night, I got up the courage to ask you if you regretted us.

"There are things I miss,” you said. “But if I didn’t have you, I’d miss more.”

obstinate, adj.

Sometimes it becomes a contest: Which is more stubborn, the love or the two arguing people caught within it?

taciturn, adj.

There are days you come home silent. You say words, but you’re still silent. I used to bombard you with conversational crowbars, but now I simply let the apartment fall mute. I hear you in the room — turning on music, typing on the keys, getting up for a drink, shifting in your chair. I try to have my conversation with those sounds.

I read it here: http://www.epubbud.com/read.php?g=ZBH7MC9N

Bianca still has my book, so I have no choice but to read it online. Lols.

Those are just some lines from the book that I like. There are more but...oh well.

There goes The Lover's Dictionary--or how I attempted to use D.'s words instead of mine.