“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I was afraid. I am not worthy of you. But I still love you, I think.
Don’t try and find me again, you would be lonely for music. I want you to be happy. I want you to marry again. I’m going to write out instructions for your next wife.
To my husband’s next wife: Be gentle. Be sure you comb his hair when it’s wet. Do not fail to notice that his face flushes pink like a bride’s when you kiss him. Give him lots to eat. He forgets to eat and he gets cranky.
I’ll give this letter to a worm. I hope he finds you.
from “Eurydice” by Sarah Ruhl (via 5000letters)
“I wonder how you can look at anything and not feel your knees shake from the memory of it. I have been in your bed and cradled between your palms and your knees, in your shower and in the patch of sunlight that touches your room just before noon. Your sheets and your hair and your hips. Your lazy Saturday morning smile isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. Look, there, you can see me. There’s my ghost. She’s waving at you. She’s saying ‘boy, you’ll need to burn this entire place down if you want to forget what happened here.’ She’s saying ‘man, all the ways we loved is splattered across these walls like murder.”
Azra.T “the people you loved live inside all the places they touched” (via 5000letters)