<b><i>Dear Thisbe, I wish there weren't a wall. Love, Pyramus.</i> Pyramus and Thisbe were lovers in a Greek myth, children of rival families, forbidden to be together.</b> <i>He's just as attracted to Henry's cloudy tempers, the way he comes back from them, and the millions of shades in between. “He's the most loving, nurturing, selfless person you could hope to meet, but there is a sadness and a hurt in him that is tremendous, and you may very well never truly understand it, but you need to love it as much as you love the rest of him, because that's him. And he is prepared to give it all to you, which is far more than I ever, in a thousand years, thought I would see him do.</i>” —> “<i>That's the choice. <b>I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose.</b> I love him on purpose.</i>” I feel that this book does a great job of encapsulating the difficulty of loving someone that comes with their own struggles. Most of the time, in queer relationships, there is this additional effort to balance the volatile mood of a person who has endured suffering (being in the closet, rejection or the paralyzing fear of it, familiar neglect, low self-esteem) but it does not necessarily make the person terrible, unlovable, or despicable. The act of waiting for someone, waiting until they're in a safe mental and physical space, is just another way of showing love, but most of the time it's taken as an excuse to stop loving altogether. <i>If Alex's head is a storm, Henry is the place lightning hits ground. “Before you, I was all right letting everything happen to me. I honestly have never thought I deserved to choose. — But you treat me like I do.” “Take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.”</i> The love between Alex and Henry is intoxicating, in such a good way. It goes to show how good the connection and romanticism between two people can get, against all odds. They anchor one another, and push each other forward. The way they express this love gives such warmth and comfort to the reader, it's poetic and mesmerizing: <i>“You not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream.” “When have I ever, since the first instant I touched you, pretended to be anything <b>less</b> than in love with you?” “I've memorized it. Topography on the map of you, a world I'm still charting. [...] Your spine's a ridge I'd die climbing.</i>” And the way the author writes about love just makes you feel such adoration for a relationship of this kind, the sweet and tender feelings despite everything that is harsh and difficult in this world: <i>Four-nearly-five years in, the main thing he's learned is that Alex is a world without end. All Henry wants is to go on with him forever. To keep finding new favorite parts, to keep turning things over and studying their soft bellies and finding the best bits. So, he will. Love, Henry has found, has a way of growing backward. You fall in love with a person in the present, and then every person you've ever been gets to fall in love with every past version of them.</i> <b> “Come, hijo mío, de la miel, porque es buena, and the honeycomb, sweet to thy taste.” </b> I've come to relate to both characters deeply, for who they are and how they present themselves. Their personality, strengths and weaknesses. Dreams and aspirations, of changing the world for the better. Intellect, sweetness, and fierceness. Some of these quotes resonated with me on a deeper level: <i>“No matter how many places I've been or people I've met or books I read, this place is proof I'll never learn it all. [...] Everything is a story, never finished.” He thinks about roots, about first and second languages. What he wanted when he was a kid and what he wants now and where those things overlap. And there it is. He's been teetering on the edge of letting go of this specific dream for months now, terrified of it, but the relief is startling, a mountain off his back.</i> <i><b> “Sometimes you just jump and hope it's not a cliff” </b></i>

4,5 ⭐️