Semana en líneas #19

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-¿Eres el marido de Sonea?
Cery miró al mago, sorprendido.
-No.
-¿Su, hum... amante, entonces?
El joven notó que se ruborizaba. Apartó la mirada.
-No, solo su amigo.
-Ya veo. Ha sido un acto heroico venir aquí.

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-Te dije que conocía a una persona, un sirviente del Gremio. Podría haber vuelto ha hablar con ese hombre, y preguntarle los planes que tenía el Gremio para ti, pero no lo hice. ¿Sabes por qué?
-No.-Ahora su voz sonaba confundida.
-No quería descubrir que el Gremio de verdad quería ayudarte. Si pasaba eso, volverías, y yo no quería que te marcharas. No quería volver a perderte.

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And that’s just it, isn’t it? That’s how we manage to survive the loss. Because love, it never dies, it never goes away, it never fades, so long as you hang on to it.

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Sleep would be so welcome. A warm blanket of black to erase everything else. Sleep without dreams. I’ve heard people talk about the sleep of the dead. Is that what death would feel like? The nicest, warmest, heaviest never-ending nap? If that’s what it’s like, I wouldn’t mind. If that’s what dying is like, I wouldn’t mind that at all.

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Adam is crying and somewhere inside of me I am crying, too, because I’m feeling things at last. I’m feeling not just the physical pain, but all that I have lost, and it is profound and catastrophic and will leave a crater in me that nothing will ever fill.

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―I don’t really care. I shouldn’t have to care. I shouldn’t have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.

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― If you stay, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll quit the band, go with you to New York. But if you need me to go away, I’ll do that, too. I was talking to Liz and she said maybe coming back to your old life would be too painful, that maybe it’d be easier for you to erase us. And that would suck, but I’d do it. I can lose you like that if I don’t lose you today. I’ll let you go. If you stay.

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Sometimes you make choices in life and sometimes choices make you.