whatever

so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise. 

Is it weird that I looked at that grave and thought, wow, that’d actually be a nice place to live? Space to lie down in, shelter from the elements, grave plots don’t cost very much compared to rent, you could go down there with a small air mattress and a sleeping bag and some wifi and really, nobody’d notice if you hollowed it out a bit down there for some extra room.

Are you ever sorry?“ He asked. "For loving you?” She smiled and shook her head. “No. There are so many things to be sorry for, but loving you isn’t one of them.” For some reason, that answer made him even more restless. “What are the things you’re sorry about, then?” He asked after a while. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t quite right for you. That you weren’t quite right for me. That the timing wasn’t quite right for us. We were never lacking in love. It wasn’t ever a question of whether we loved each other enough or not, because if love could fill a whole room - ours would have needed more space. It would have burst out of the windows and banged open doors.” She stopped, and smiled such a sad smile it broke his heart all over again. “You know I loved you so much.” He whispered. She reached out to squeeze his hand and said, “I know, darling. I know. But even the greatest of loves cannot withstand the wars of this world. And no matter how much we loved each other, it wasn’t a war we were supposed to win.

trinity