Lola

“So there's this theory about the multiverse," Hunter starts in sad reverence. His voice was of a morbidly curious scientist. "that says that we're just one copy of ourselves. What if we're just figments of a dying universe? All of this could have already happened. We could have crashed and burned ten times over. But what if there was a multiverse that had a copy of you, that met a copy of me, and they didn't quite have this much...affliction. What if there was another Alex, who didn't have torment thundering down her eyes every time I looked at her. What if we already lived our *'and we lived'*?" he stops to look at me. *Really* look at me, and I could have been seeing the whole universe in his eyes.
"What if it was as simple as *'hey'*?”
― Reem Aquil, X

“Miseries of a birth.”
― Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary: October 26, 1977–September 15, 1979

“I still smell your absence on my skin. It smells of insomnia and rusted key locks...”
― Malak El Halabi

“I’m not wise at all. I told you, I know nothing. I know books, and I know how to string words together—it doesn’t mean I know how to speak about the things that matter most to me.”
― André Aciman, Call Me by Your Name