For some of us love comes into the room, kicks her
shoes off, finds the most comfortable sofa, and lies down, rests, has no intention of going anywhere. For others love walks in smoking a cigarette, checking her watch every two seconds, jittery, with one hand on the doorknob, heart rate up, always in sprinter’s position, ready to run.

Eric Jerome Dickey

Mots clés love



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It’s scary telling someone you care about, someone you love who you really are.

Eric Jerome Dickey

Mots clés love identity scary



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It is silent, an anagram for listen.
That is what I do. Listen while she remains silent.

Eric Jerome Dickey

Mots clés silence listening



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People know your tragedies and they treat you like
you’re not human. Like you’re a three-headed goat. A monster from some other planet. They keep reminding you of your pain.
You see how they look at me? They’re stuck on that person I used to be. They can’t see that old life as just a moment in time that I’ve moved on from. It was a horrible life.

Eric Jerome Dickey

Mots clés tragedy moving used-to-be



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Losing your job is like having your identity stolen, like having what defined you run through a paper shredder. After a while the despair gets you, and it gets you good.

Eric Jerome Dickey


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She’s a smart woman. I love that. Intelligence is a wonderful and powerful aphrodisiac. To me, it enhances beauty, makes an ordinary woman look like a movie star.

Eric Jerome Dickey


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He says, “Your husband fucked my wife.”
We look at each other and this time it’s different. Now I know him.
“My husband didn’t fuck your wife.” My voice is soft. Not amorous, but the tone of a bewildered child. “They had a relationship, then came home and fucked us.

Eric Jerome Dickey


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Most women got this thing called compassion. It doesn't make them foolish, just more forgiving. More capable of trying and hoping things worked out.

Eric Jerome Dickey

Mots clés love women relationships



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the most painful good-byes were the ones that were never said, never explained

Eric Jerome Dickey


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Ownership, even in love, is an illusion. No woman owned any man and no man owned any woman.

Eric Jerome Dickey


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