Forbidden Tabitha Suzuma Quotes

You can close your eyes to the things you do not want to see, but you cannot close your heart to the things you do not want to feel.

I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?

At the end of the day it's about how much you can bear, how much you can endure. Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves.

At what point do you give up - decide enough is enough? There is only one answer really. Never.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have.

As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.

It's always nice being wanted. Even if it's by the wrong person.

He is my soul mate, my fresh air, the reason I look forward to getting up every morning.

There are no laws, no boundaries on feelings.We can love each other as much and as deeply as we want.No one, Maya, no one can ever take that away from us.

You've always been my best friend, my soul mate, and now I've fallen in love with you too. Why is that such a crime?

I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don't find funny, saying things I don't really mean - because at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we're all the same.

It's horrible being ashamed of someone you care about; it eats away at you. And if you let it get to you, if you give up the fight and surrender, eventually that shame turns to hate.

But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.

This is the definition of happiness: a whole day stretching out ahead of me, beautiful in its emptiness and simplicity.

Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves.

And this is something I must accept - even if, like acid on metal, it is slowly corroding me inside.

How-how can we make it against the whole world?

I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you of all people. Throughout my life you were the one person I could turn to. The one person I could always count on to understand. And now that I’ve lost you, I’ve lost everything.

Before there was anything, there was Lochan.

Because at the end of the day that’s what we’re all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we’re all the same.

He will think Lochan wasn't loved, but he was, more deeply than most people are in a lifetime.

I am overcome by a feeling of complete detachment. I am a mere object to these people. I am barely human any more.

I don't know when it started - this thing - bit it's growing, muffling me, suffocating me like poison ivy. I grew into it. It grew into me. We blurred at the edges, became an amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.

At what point does a fly give up trying to escape through a closed window–do its survival instincts keep it going until it is physicaly capable of no more,or does it eventualy learn after one crash too many that there is no way out? At what point do you decide that enough is enough?

Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.

If I keep breathing, then I have to keep living, and if I keep living, then I have to keep hurting, and I can't - not like this.

Do I realy regret that night? That one moment of joy beyond compare – some people never experience it in a lifetime. But the downside to that taste of pure happiness is that,like a drug, a glimmer of paradise, it leaves you craving more.

Lochie. The boy I once loved. The boy I still love. The boy I will continue to love, even when my part in this world is over too.

He shakes his head with a slow smile. You'd better be right. If the phone rings, I'm unpluggining it, I swear to God-“ You'd do that to your five-year-old sister?“ I gasp in mock outrage. For one whole night alone? Jesus, Maya, I'd sell her to the gypsies!

We can love each other.' I swallow hard to ease the constriction in my throat. 'There are no laws, no bundaries on feelings. We can love each other as much and as deeply as we want. No one, Maya, no one can never take that away from us.

Nothing can relieve the pain. Not crying, laughing, screaming, begging. Nothing can change the past.

It's always nice being fancied. It's always nice being wanted. Even it it's by the wrong person.

Get through today – you can fall apart tomorrow. Get through tomorrow, you can fall apart the day after . . .

And I know how he feels–it’s so good it hurts.

The words fire from my mouth like bullets, ricocheting off the walls before I can even register what I'm saying.

This whole time, my whole life, that harsh, stony path was leading up to this one point. I followed it blindly, stumbling along the way, scraped and weary, without any idea of where it was leading, without ever realizing that with every step I was approaching the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. And now that I've reached it, now that I'm here, I want to catch it in my hand, hold onto it forever to look back on - the point at which my new life really began.

Puedes cerrar los ojos a las cosas que no quieres ver, pero no puedes cerrar tu corazón a las cosas que no quieres sentir.

only a matter of time before it broke through our fragile web of denial, forcing us to confront the truth and acknowledge who we are: two people in love – a love that nobody else could possibly understand.

Time has stopped; time is racing. Lochie's lips are rough yet smooth, hard yet gentle. His fingers are strong: I feel them in my hair and on my neck and down my arms and against my back. And I never want him to let me go.

I love you in–in every kind of way.’ ‘I feel like that too . . .’ His voice is shocked and raw. ‘It’s – it’s a feeling so big I sometimes think it’s going to swalow me. It’s so strong I feel it could kil me. It keeps growing and I can’t – I don’t know what to do to stop it. But – but we’re not supposed to do this – to love each other like this!

...and my loneliness, always my loneliness - that airless bubble of despair that is slowing stifling me.

At the age of five she has already come to terms with one of the life's harshest lessons: that the world isn't fair.

She can't just be a face, a body; there has to be more than that, some kind of connection. And I can't connect, don't want to connect, with anyone.

What else could he possibly have done? What choices did he ever have?

I want to tell her that I can't pull her down. I want to tell her that she has to let go of my hand in order to swim. I want to tell her that she must live her own life. But I sense she already knows that these options are open to her. And that she, too, has made her choice.

Family: the most important thing of all. My siblings may drive me crazy at times but they are my blood. They’re all I’ve known. My family is me. They are my life. Without them I walk the planet alone. Forbidden, Tabitha Suzuma

I've never seen anyone sleep with their head hanging off the back of a wooden chair before - was the couch not comfortable enough for you?

But then why is it so terrible for me to be with the girl I love? Everyone one is permitted to have what they want, express their love as they please, without fear of harassment, ostracism, persecution, or even the law. Even emotionally abusive, adulterous relationships are often tolerated, despite the harm they cause others. In our progressive, permissive society, all these harmful, unhealthy types of "love" are allowed--but not ours.

Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.

And I know how he feels—it’s so good it hurts. I think I’m going to die from happiness. I think I’m going to die from pain. Time has stopped; time is racing.

If I move, if I speak, if I so much as blink, I'm going to lose this battle.

Pressed up against him, I can feel the thud of his heart against mine, his ribcase expanding and contracting rapidly against my chest, the warm whisper of his breath tickling the side of my neck, the brush of his leg against my thigh. Resting my arms on his shoulders, I pull back a little to get a look at his face. But he isn't smiling any more.

I feel like I'm going crazy: seeing you every day but never being able to - to hold you, to touch you when anyone else is around. i just want to take your hand, kiss you, hug you, without having to hide all the time. All those things every other couple takes for granted!

And the very important fact that I'm here to worry with you and go through all of this - every little bit of it - by your side, even your worst-case-scenario, should it somehow come to that. You wouldn't be doing any of it alone.' Her voice drops and she looks down at our hands, fingers entwined, resting on her lap. 'Whatever happens, there will always be us.

I think I’m going to die from happiness. I think I’m going to die from pain.

Never before have I imagined my life without him—like this house, he is my only point of reference in this difficult existence, this unstable and frightening world. The thought of his leaving home fills me with a terror so strong, it takes my breath away. I feel like one of those seagulls covered in oil from a spill, drowning in a black tar of fear.

She has already come to terms with one of life's harshest lessons: that the world isn't fair.

She reaches out for the crumpled sheet at the end of her bed and wraps it round beneath her arms. The white material swirls around her feet, making me smile. I pull on my underwear and join her by the window, kissing her cheek. ‘I do.’ She looks at me questioningly and then down at the sheet before breaking into giggles. ‘In sickness and in health?’ she asks. ‘Till death us do part?’ I shake my head. ‘Way beyond that,’ I say. ‘For ever.

Everyone else is permitted to have what they want, express their love as they please, without fear of harassment, ostracism, persecution or even the law. Even emotionally abusive, adulterous relationships are often tolerated, despite the harm they cause others. In our progressive, permissive society, all these harmful, unhealthy types of 'love' are allowed - but not ours.

¿En qué punto decides que suficiente es suficiente?

Puedes cerrar los ojos a las cosas que no quieres ver, pero no puedes cerrar el corazón a las cosas que no quieres sentir.

Todo es una actuación. Ellos se burlan de los demás y se meten con los solitarios sólo para poder encajar. Y yo no estoy mucho mejor. Puede que parezca confiada y habladora, pero paso la mayor parte de mi tiempo riéndome de chistes que no me parecen graciosos, diciendo cosas que realmente no quiero decir. Porque al fin y al cabo eso es lo que todos estamos tratando de hacer: encajar, de una u otra manera tratando desesperadamente de fingir que todos somos iguales.

Y de repente me di cuenta que, mientras tuviera a Lochan, nada ni nadie podría hacerme daño.

whatever happens ,there will always be us.

Talking to adults is bearable; it’s talking to people my age that’s impossible.

Even though I’m surrounded by pupils, there is this invisible screen between us, and behind the glass wall I am screaming – screaming in my own silence, screaming to be noticed, to be befriended, to be liked. And yet when a friendly looking girl from my maths class comes up to me in the canteen and says ‘Mind if I sit here?’ I just give a quick nod and turn away, hoping to God she won’t try to engage me in conversation.

Estar juntos, no dañamos a nadie; permanecer apartados, nos extinguimos.

I don’t understand. Why can’t she just be like the other teachers? Why does she have to care?

At what point do you give up – decide enough is enough? There is only one answer really. Never

Sometimes love chooses us

I want to be with you, no matter what. I love you-" "But not enough.

Me limpio las mejillas y vuelvo la cabeza para mirarlo —¡No hemos hecho nada malo! ¿Cómo se le puede llamar terrible a un amor así cuando no le estamos haciendo daño a nadie? Él me mira, sus ojos brillan a la débil luz. —No sé— susurra.—¿Cómo algo tan malo puede sentirse tan bien?

Walking down the street, weaving in and out of the crowds, I try to think of something—anything—to look forward to.

If I keep breathing, then I have to keep living, and if I keep living, then I have to keep hurting, and I can't--not like this.

You never let any of them lose! Even when giving them a run for their money, you always, always let them catch you in the end.

In our progressive, permissive society, all these harmful, unhealthy types of ‘love’ are allowed — but not ours.

This is my favourite time of day, the afternoon barely ended, the evening not yet begun; the languid hours of sunshine stretch out ahead of us before fading into dusky twilight.

What does this mean, then – I’m afraid? Scared of physical intimacy? No. I crave it, I dream about it. But for me there’s no one. No one. Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don’t even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings – of love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed – yet no one to focus them on. It makes me want to scream in frustration. It makes me feel like a freak. But worse than that, I feel so desperately disappointed.

Pero el vacío en mi pecho se abre como una caverna dentro de mi pecho. Me siento tan malditamente solo todo el tiempo. Incluso aunque estoy rodeado de alumnos, hay una pantalla invisible entre nosotros, y detrás de la pared de vidrio estoy gritando, gritando en mi propio silencio, gritando para ser notado, para hacer amistad, para agradarle a alguien.

Separated by so much more than distance and lifestyle, even their memories of a shared childhood have faded from their minds.

they entered the profession full of hope and vigor, determined to make a difference, to heed Gandhi and be the change they wanted to see in the world.

I feel like one of those seagulls covered in oil from a spill, drowning in a black tar of fear.

There are moments during the day when I just grind to a halt and simply cannot find the energy to draw another breath.

Somewhere in my head I have this idea of a perfect guy. But I don't think he even exists.

Esta es la definición de felicidad: todo un día tendidos, hermoso en sti vacío y simplicidad.

Esta es la definición de felicidad: todo un día tendidos, hermoso en su vacío y simplicidad.

Nunca podría negarle ese derecho, el derecho de todo ser humano a elegir la vida que quiere llevar.

Siempre es bueno ser elegido, siempre es bueno ser querido; incluso si es por la persona equivocada.

No hay leyes ni limites en los sentimientos, (...). Podemos amarnos tan profundamente como queramos.

¿En qué punto decides que suficiente es suficiente? Sólo hay una respuesta realmente. Nunca.

I cannot bear the thought of this being just one moment in time, over almost before it started, already retreating into the past. I must hold onto it with all my might.

El hecho que él piense que puede apelar a mi sentido del deber, muestra cuán poco entiende el efecto de sus palabras anteriores, la violencia de las emociones que corren a través de mí.

I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don’t find funny, saying things I don’t really mean - because at the end of the day that’s what we’re all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we’re all the same.

I'm tired of spending every minute of every hour of every day fighting back tears, swallowing repeatedly to try and ease the constant ache at the back of my throat. Even at night, as I lie there hugging my pillow, staring out through the open curtains, I don't allow myself to give in -- because if I did I would fall apart, I would fragment into a thousand pieces like shattered glass.

He’s the hottest guy in school. I’ve fancied him for ages. I can’t wait to go out with him.

Todos tienen permitido obtener lo que quieren, expresar su amor como les plazca, sin temor al acoso, ostracismo, persecución o incluso la ley. Incluso el abuso emocional y las relaciones de adulterio son regularmente toleradas, a pesar del daño que causan a otros. En nuestra sociedad progresiva y tolerante, todos estos tipos de “amor” perjudiciales e insanos son permitidos, pero no el nuestro. No puedo pensar en ningún otro tipo de amor que sea tan totalmente rechazado, incluso aunque el nuestro sea tan profundo, apasionado, cariñoso y fuerte que si nos obligan a estar separados nos causarían un dolor inimaginable. Estamos siendo castigados por el mundo por una simple razón: por haber sido producidos por la misma mujer.

At what point does a fly give up trying to escape through a closed window--do its survival instincts keep it going until it is physically capable of no more, or does it eventually learn after one crash too many that there is no way out? At what point do you decide that enough is enough?

The thing I have feared and railed against these past few weeks – the total loss of control over my mind – has set in, and I have no way to fight it any more. I close my eyes and feel the coil of madness climb up my spine and creep into my brain. I watch it explode like the sun. So this is it, this is what it feels like after a long hard struggle – to lose the battle and finally go crazy.

No sé cuando empezó, esta situación, pero está creciendo, envolviéndome, asfixiándome como hiedra venenosa. Crecí dentro de ella, y ésta creció dentro de mí. Difuminamos los bordes, nos convertimos en una cosa amorfa, que se filtra y se arrastra. A veces me las arreglo para distraerme, me engaño para salir de su morada, me convenzo de que estoy bien.