Pretty Girls Make Graves

“I want to discuss the meaning of life with her deep into the night. Find out about her secrets, fears, and beliefs, which she doesn’t share with anyone else. And I also want to fuck her brains out.”

“It’s not that all I want to do is bury my fingers deep inside you, while my other hand grips your throat and I whisper nasty things into your ear that make you drench the sheets. I also want to tuck you into bed, make you heart-shaped pancakes, and profess my love for you. After all, I’m nothing if not dirty and romantic.”

“Buy her flowers or handcuffs. Kiss her in public, make her laugh and grab her ass any chance you get. Show her you give a fuck. Life, that fickle bitch, is short. Don’t waste it.“

“It’s a stark thought that when we die most of us will leave behind uneaten biscuits, unused coffee, half toilet rolls, half cartons of milk in the fridge to go sour; that everyday functional things will outlive us and prove that we weren’t ready to go; that we weren’t smart or knowing or heroic; that we were just animals whose animal bodies stopped working without any sort of schedule or any consent from us.”

Here is a secret: just the idea that she is alive and she in this world makes me ache.