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This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn’t ther

David Levithan

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David Levithan
Age: 52
Born: 1972
Born: September 7
Author
Novelist
Writer
Short Hills
New Jersey
Ther
Memorial
Staring
Standing
Stills
Still
Something

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There are few things harder than being born into the wrong body.
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I still don’t know if this is a good quality or a bad one, to be able to be in the moment and then step out of it.
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We stay this way until twilight colours the window and the hour calls me home
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You can't know what it is like for us now--you will always be one step behind. Be thankful for that. You can't know what it was like for us then--you will always be one step ahead. Be thankful for that, too.
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having someone think of me that way was like discovering a new window in the room i'd lived in all my life.
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I wonder if it's possible to start a new relationship without hurting someone else.
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All this hoping for something- or someone- that's maybe hopeless. I'm having a hard time processing what I am supposed to believe, or if I'm even supposed to. There is too much information, and I don't like a lot of it.
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I don’t want you to think I got through this undamaged, okay? But I’m learning to live with it. Because otherwise, the damage is all you are.
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Love me less, but love me for a long time
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I have taken advantage of other people's weaknesses in order to cover my own.
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It was rather awkward, insofar as we were both teetering between the possibility of something and the possibility of nothing.
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dissonance, n. Nights when I need to sleep and you can't. Days when I want to talk to you and you won't. Hours when every noise you make interferes with my silence. Weeks when there is a buzzing in the air, and we both pretend we don't here it.
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She stays in the same spot, anchored by the profound, desperate loneliness of a bad relationship.
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Feeling someone else's anger is bad being left alone is worse.
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Maybe language is kind, giving us these double meanings. Maybe it's trying to teach us a lesson, that we can always be two things at once.
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luckily, tiny texts me every five minutes or so. i don't know how he does it without getting caught in class. maybe he hides the phone in the folds of his stomach or something.
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When the shock wears off, you always hope there's understanding underneath.
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you’d think that silence would be peaceful. but really, it’s painful.
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When is a night over? Is it the start of sunrise or the end of it? Is it when you finally go to sleep or simply realize that you have to? When the club closes or when you everyone leaves? It's over when you decide it's over, she says. When you call it a night. The rest is just a matter of where the sun is in the sky.
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...and suddenly you started singing out your love for me. My name and everything, loud enough to reach the top floors of all the buildings. I should have told you to stop, but I didn’t want you to stop. I didn’t mind if your love for me woke people up. I didn’t mind if it somehow sneaked into their sleep.
David Levithan