"Don’t ask me if it’s smart. He makes me feel like walking into a library of my favorite books. Don’t..."

“Don’t ask me if it’s smart.
He makes me feel like walking into a library of my favorite books.
Don’t ask me if it’s healthy.
We act as if we’re the cure for each other.
Don’t ask me if it’ll last. 
Each time we fuck, it feels like no one could ever make love again, like we used up all the energy in the world.
Don’t ask me if it’s real. 
These days, nothing in my life feels as real as his hair in between my fingers.
Don’t ask me if it’s right. 
It isn’t.”

- Interrogation of Wrinkled Bedsheets (via spiderwebsandteacups)