Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real thing in this strange life of mine that I could ever trust. Tonight I feel that my love for you has more density in this world than I do, myself: as though it could linger on after me and surround you, keep you, hold you.
There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love. It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.
- The Time Traveler's Wife, excerpt
No comments:
Post a Comment