Someday I want to live in a house with a library that I have built
and shelved with all the books that I’ve lost myself in over the years.
I want to curl up with a hot cup of tea, surrounded by all the different
people I’ve loved and the many lives I’ve lived. The memories of
them not worn, like the ones in my head, but as clear and
detailed as ever, preserved right there on the page,
ready to be lived again.