…and by this means it acquireth the virtue and power of all things above, the subtilty, purity, penetrative activity of fire, light, heaven and things below, the fluidness, fixedness and capableness of all influences, which the lower elements of Earth and Water have.
“I’n sorry for making you feel bad when I should’ve done the opposite. I lost the ability to feel love when I was a boy, but you've slowly but surely yanked those feelings out of me. You didn’t only yank them out, you also held tight to a part of me I thought was long gone. For you, I want to go back in time and keep that part alive for the moment I met you. In the past, I thought people were destined to leave, so being attached to anyone was useless. And I thought that at some point, you would leave, too. I fought the pull to you. I fought the lure of your rose scent and your breakable softness. But I couldn’t fucking last. Not when I craved your presence the moment you were out of sight. Not when my thoughts of breaking your purity turned to a need to protect it. I told you how different my love is, how dark it can get, but I do love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. I don’t only need you; I also genuinely cannot live without you and the light you bring to my darkness. I know you deserve better, but I’m unable to let you go, so I’ll try my best to be worthy of you, Lenochka.”
A muscle tightens in his jaw and a glassy sheen has covered his eyes by the time he finishes. He finally did it.
He...let go.
“I trusted you, Lia, even more than I trusted myself. You were the light I wasn’t allowed to have and I did everything I could to protect it and not let it burn out. You were the only purity I saw in the world and I did my hardest not to tarnish it. In my own fucked-up way, I wanted to preserve you, to go against my nature and keep you, but I should’ve known it was only a pipe dream.”
Love will remain, sex will be gone, and then love has a purity and a beauty and a sacredness of its own.
"Our sheer capacity for feeling got to be so unwieldy that we staggered under it, like Atlas with the weight of the world." I sigh, and the freshness of the air derails me. How long will it take, I wonder, for me to get used to it again? My chest aches, and maybe it's the unfamiliar purity of the air, but maybe not. "The thing about Shakespeare is, he's so eloquent ... He speaks the unspeakable. He turns grief and triumph and rapture and rage into words, into something we can understand. He renders the whole mystery of humanity comprehensible." I stop. Shrug. "You can justify anything if you do it poetically enough."
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