Sorrow Like the Taste of Rain
I let her walk out on me. I think she’d have gone anyway, but I just sat on the floor and watched her go. I didn’t stand in her way.I figured it was her choice, and you can’t hold someone if they don’t want to be held. If someone really wants to be free of you, you have to let them go.
Well, fuck that, fuck that all to hell. Don’t go, please, don’t go.
I love the way your hair shines in the light. I love the way you smile when you’re not trying to hide or impress anyone. I love your laughter. I love the way your voice can hold sorrow like the taste of rain.
I love the way you watch her when she moves through a room, when you don’t think anyone’s watching, because it’s exactly the way I watch her.
I love your eyes.
I love your pain.
I love you.
Yeah, I don’t know. I just really like the line about your voice holding sorrow like the taste of rain.
For proper disclosure, as always, the above is pulled with minor edits from a Laurell Hamilton book I am currently reading.
OMG. I love this.
As do I. I have found myself re-reading it throughout the day. I think it is the rawness of the emotion in it that strikes me.
I may have to borrow it.
I posted the backstory…
-sigh-
Reversing the pronouns will get you back close to the original.
I saw that you posted, but haven’t been home enough to read the novel yet. I hope to get to it tonight or tomorrow.