August 21, 2014

lilcreamsicle:

I got on the plane that took off from narita airport on saturday, august 16th. two days before that, I met someone who, in the most cliche, tropic, coming-of-age movie way, changed everything for me, fixed me dizzy and blind, twisted me into the kind of girl who asks, is it possible to fall in love in two days?

do you fall in love with a person or how you see the person? do you love his mouth or the way it makes you feel? is it his laugh, or is it how it turns you golden? do you let yourself? do you trust someone with your vulnerabilities after 48 hours spent under hot white sheets, do you forget that home is not this dazed asakusa apartment, that this man with the strong hands is not your salvation? do you think, even for one minute, that you could just stay? when you draw blood from his shoulder with your fingernails at 3am, under him in a gasp. when the first time he kissed you, he tilted your chin up under the streetlights, and said, I got you, and his hand wrote love letters in the curve of your waist.

here’s the thing. I know how to tell a love story, and I know a lot, more than I’d like to, about goodbyes. but when it comes to something like this, I’m useless, adolescent, like I never grew up and never been hurt, like I know nothing about how precarious yearning gets, because everything about this is wrong and strange and different, and how could you not fall in love in tokyo? how could you not let yourself grow the stem of a dream, with the way the city drowns you? and this man, who says things like, I would take such good care of you. who says things like, when you look right at me you make my knees weak. who asks you to stay, in the muffle of an exquisite moment, with his mouth on your neck and his hands around your wrists, the violence of him pushing you up against the glass wall the night before, then the loveliness of a kiss on the forehead at 8 in the morning. is it possible? is it survivable?

these days it seems like I’m always getting on planes already filled with the urge to jump from them. the last time we kissed, the last time I saw him, he was saying to me, on the train at shinjuku station, “I’ll see you again.” yes, please. from 6000 miles away, please.

This is so damn gorgeous. The questions are exquisite and it actually makes me want to say yes to love when just today I was mentally reviewing past prospects and saying no left and right. Do you think my writing would ever get as good as this once I fall in love?

(please say yes)

(via lilcreamsicle-deactivated202207)

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