the passion that will drive me mad
2003-09-15
1:56 p.m.
And so, it shall always be this way, won't it? I left you. I wrenched myself away from what wasn't beautiful to find beauty. I wrenched myself away, because what we were together crushed me against rocks sharper than the world's rejection. I wrenched myself away because I couldn't breathe (but the whole time I wanted you to steal my breath. I wanted you more than I could ever say without looking down. I wanted you to take me. I wanted.)
And of course, you know that I could never come back. Not now. Not after the words I've not said to you. Not after the silence--stretching back in time to now. And so, what is left? But this.
My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath--a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind--not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.