(Vancouver Island, around Kamloops, BC)
"We didn't speak the same language..We had endearments, kisses, warm looks. What we were missing was the words."
He brings me to tears (of laughter, joy, et plus). Do you ever have a novel that you hide for some reason in some dusty crevice in your bookshelf, then one day you are absolutely compelled and near maniacal to find, read, and DESTROY all who cross paths with you and that book..?
I did this three nights ago with More Die of Heartbreak. Words written like they were just for me. At the most paramount moments. When all my own thoughts and opinions on myself and past are dry and empty. I can't explain anything I do. But Bellow is dragging me in; he's a tugboat in the foggy deepest of blues. And I was nearly a sinking wreck.