The Universe of Us

By Lang Leav; Published In 2016
Genres: Poetry, Romance
A book travels for days, for years, sometimes for centuries to meet you at an exact point in time.

And I told him, if I am so hard to love, then let me run wild.
My love is not a testament to my surrender. I will show you just how much I love you, with the inward draw of every breath—the collective sigh of the world and all its despair. But I will never give you what you want in chains.

But when I look at you, I just know instinctively, that despite the odds against you and although life will always find a way to test you, someday you’ll have everything you want. Your ending will be a happy one.

Her Time
She has been feeling it for awhile - that sense of awaking. There is a gentle rage simmering inside her, and it is getting stronger by the day. She will hold it close to her - she will nurture it and let it grow. She won't let anyone take it away from her. It is her rocket fuel and finally, she is going places. She can feel it down to her very core - this is her time. She will not only climb mountains - she will move them too.

I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.

I know you are scared. Who could blame you? Love is a hurricane wrapped inside a chrysalis. And you are a girl walking into the storm.

I suppose it's only human nature to add and substract from our memories; to recall them the way we feel they should be remembered. After all, our lives are a living work of art - shouldn't we be allowed to shape it in any way we choose?

I think the mysterious pull that draws you to another person is identical to the one that moves our eyes upward to the stars.

It was a kind love, a selfless love. I was an explorer and you were a traveller. We met at crossroads. I saw love in your smile and I recognized in for the first time in my life. But you had a plane to catch and I'm already home.

It was all I wanted for the longest time- to open my eyes and see you there. To stretch out my hand and touch the soft, yielding warmth of your skin. But now I have learned the secret of distance. Now I know being close to you was never about the proximity.

It was a quiet love, a tacit love. It came without prelude or preamble. We never said the word love–we didn’t have to. It was in our laughter, in the sense of wonder we found in each other. And if we had doubts then, time has told us otherwise.

I’ve grown quiet now. You won’t hear me talk about you anymore. It doesn’t hurt like it used to. I suppose that is something to be thankful for.

Loving you is like being ten years old again, scaling a tree with my eyes bright and skyward, wanting only to get higher and higher, without a thought of how I would get back down.

Most people want to save the entire world. It’s a lovely thought, and I’m not saying it’s not a noble pursuit—but it’s impossible to save everyone. You just have to pick your little corner of the world and focus your energy there. That’s the only way you will ever make a difference.

My demons are lying in wait, they are grinning in the shadows, their polished fangs glinting, knowing today, it will be an easy kill. But tomorrow, tomorrow could be different, and that is what keeps me going today.

My heart is like a time capsule—it keeps safe the memory of you. I know it’s harder with you gone than if you had never been here at all—but I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Our love story comes to me in waves, in movie stills and long summer afternoons spent under a sky of incessant blue. I still think of your eyes in flashes of color, your hands in a frenetic, feverish blur—your smile a mosaic of light and shadow. I still find myself lost in those moments of abstraction.

She can feel it down to her very core—this is her time. She will not only climb mountains—she will move them too.

Some days I feel like my soul is being pulled in one direction and my heart in another.

Sometimes the loneliest place to be is in love.

The sad thing is,” she said, “the moment you start to miss someone, it means they’re already gone.

The second I tried to tell myself I wasn’t in love was the moment I realized I was.

Today
Today I am not in my skin. My body cannot contain me. I am spilling out and over, like a rogue wave on the shore. Today I can't keep myself from feeling like I don't have a friend in the world. And no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to pick myself up off the floor. My demons are lying in wait, they are grinning in the shadows, their polished fangs glinting, knowing today, it will be an easy kill. But tomorrow, tomorrow could be different, and that is what keeps me going today.

Until It’s Gone

“Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone.”

“But what about the ones who do know? The ones who never took a damn thing for granted? Who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved the most.”

“Isn’t it so much worse for them?

We spoke once about lovers who kept finding each other, no matter how many times the world came between them. And I think I had to break your heart, and you had to break mine. How else could we know the worth of what we were given?

When you lose a person, a whole universe goes along with them.

Yes, I think it is entirely possible to fall in love with someone you've never met. Physicality is an expression of intimacy- not an indication of it.

Yes, I think it is entirely possible to fall in love with someone you’ve never met. Physicality is an expression of intimacy—not an indication of it.

You forsake all that you hold dear,
for a dream that is not your own;
you would rather live a lie
than live your life alone

Universe of Us and on thoughtcatalog

You won’t hear from me again after today, and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll be okay. Because I have to be.