Kumpulan Prosa Pendek Love Looks Pretty on You

And I can already picture us ten years from now, living our lives like parallel lines. Looking across at each other from time to time.

All this time, I thought I was writing for the lovers, when I’ve been writing for the writers.

I am in a tug-of-war with my past self. We’re fighting over who gets to keep you.

When my best friend told me

she was in love

my first thought was,

i hope he is good to her.

And it suddenly occured to me,

what I held in my heart for her

was hope, when it should

have been expectation.

Now that you have it all, do you ever wish you could go back to when you had it simple?

One day a moment will come to you,

and you will live every day of your life,

with this moment.

It will come

and it will go–

it will go before you are ready.

And it’s memory will feel more real to you

than the moment you lived it,

 

and this moment has a life

that is separate from yours

yet is wholly belonging.

It will come

and it will go–

it will go before you are ready.

And for the first time

you will learn what it is

not to be ready

You are a writer bleeding words onto a page. And the ones who hate you will trample on that page. And the ones who love you will cut you, to keep you bleeding.

The novelist struggles

The poet suffers.

Be patient. Your voice will find its way into the world, not in one loud instance but a steady trickle that turns into a deluge.

Universal law dictates that not a soul can hurt you without first handing you the keys to their own destruction.

Time goes by and your world gets so much smaller. Your heart grows so much bigger.

What is the part of you that you can’t stand? How do you hide it and who are you most afraid will find out?

Here’s the story of my life. Hoping they would care about me or wishing they wouldn’t care so much.

There are days when I don’t see you, touch you, hear you. But not a day goes by where I don’t feel you.

The less you speak, the more weight your words will carry when you do.

There will come a time when your journey will matter less than imparting what you’ve learned to those who wish to follow in your footsteps.

At the core of love is strength, and in its center is the quiet constant of your inner voice.

The one that no one hears but you.

Yet everyone can see, by the way you carry yourself in a crowded room. The power in how you use your words–the only thing you have ever loved in one continuous line.

A line that runs alongside your life.

And lives to tell your story.

in the only way that you know how.

I want to be someone without things. Untethered and boundless. To move gently through this world, without owing or owning. Take only the things I need and give back what I don’t.

Live my life twice over.

And love my life for once.