What are some good books about being in love with a dead girl?

“Five minutes ago Hareton seemed a personification of my youth, not a human being; I felt to him in such a variety of ways, that it would have been impossible to have accosted him rationally. In the first place, his startling likeness to Catherine connected him fearfully with her. That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least: for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree — filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day — I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women — my own features — mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her!”

I sat on my bed and said to God: You’ve taken her, but You haven’t got me yet. I know Your cunning. It’s You who take us up to a high place and offer us the whole universe. You’re a devil, God, tempting us to leap. But I don’t want Your peace and I don’t want Your love. I wanted something very simple and very easy: I wanted Sarah for a lifetime and You took her away. With Your great schemes You ruin our happiness like a harvester ruins a mouse’s nest: I hate You, God, I hate You as though You existed.

>>24492349 (OP)
>waaaa that aborted fetus could've been my girlfriend in another life
>*flushes load #23875899 down the drain*

I never really made it with her (I never laid her) and I’m sorry. After Tom and I left the company together, I never went back, and I never saw or spoke to her again. I tried. I’m sorry. I miss her. I love her. I want her back. I remember her clearly now when I try to remember everything important that ever happened to me. I think of her often as I sit at my desk in my office and have no work for the company I want to do. And I think of her often in the evenings, too, when I sit at home with my wife and my children and the maid and the nurse and have nothing better I want to do there, either, biting my nails addictively like a starving hunchback as I slump in a chair in my living room or study and wish for something novel to occur that will keep me awake until bedtime. I liked the fact that she was short and slightly plump (and wherever my hands fell, there was something full to hold and feel). I remember how clear and smooth and bright her skin was; her dimples deepened when she laughed. She laughed and smiled a lot. I miss that gaiety. Now I *would* know what to do with her. I want another chance. Then I remember who I am; I remember she would still be four years older than I am now, short, overweight, and dumpy, probably, and perhaps something of a talkative bore, which is not the person I’m yearning for at all. (That person isn’t here anymore.) Then I remember she’s dead.

>>24492349 (OP)
https://youtu.be/3eNK38nmzw4?si=mLQqksyDhRvtFyvA

Western slowed. He palmed the water from his face. The Kid was becoming obscured in the slashing gusts. Slapping along in his outlandish attire.

He was wet and chilled. Finally he stopped. What do you know of grief? he called. You know nothing. There is no other loss. Do you understand? The world is ashes. Ashes. For her to be in pain? The least insult? The least humiliation? Do you understand? For her to die alone? Her? There is no other loss. Do you understand? No other loss. None.

He’d fallen to his knees in the wet sand. The salt rain blew in off the sea.

ROSIE PROBERT
. . . Remember me. I have forgotten you.
I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever.
I have forgotten that I was ever born.

CHILD
Look

FIRST VOICE
says a child to her mother as they pass by the window of Schooner House

CHILD
Captain Cat is crying

FIRST VOICE
Captain Cat is crying

CAPTAIN CAT
Come back, come back,

FIRST VOICE
up the silences and echoes of the passages of the eternal night.

You were undeflected.
Nickel-tipped, solid silver,
Trajectory perfect
As though through ether. Even the cheek-scar,
Where you seemed to have side-swiped concrete,
Served as a rifling groove
To keep you true.
Till your real target
Hid behind me. Your Daddy,
The god with the smoking gun. For a long time
Vague as mist. I did not even know
I had been hit.
Or that you had gone clean through me —
To bury yourself at last in the heart of the god.

In my position, the right witchdoctor
Might have caught you in flight with his bare hands.
Tossed you, cooling, one hand to the other.
Godless, happy, quieted.
I managed
A wisp of your hair, your ring, your watch, your nightgown.

I have at times observed, when day is new,
A rosy glow suffuse the eastern sky,
With elsewhere all of heaven serenely blue;

And seen the sun emerge so tempered by
The gentle mist, its potency is drowned
And one can gaze on it with naked eye:

Just so, within those blossoms all around –
That cloud cast up by saintly hands to spread
And fall and deck the chariot and the ground –

Adorned with olive chaplet on her head,
A lady came, who wore a veil of white:
Her cape was green; her dress was flaming red.

My trembling spirit, which within her sight –
Albeit years before – had always bowed
In mingled trepidation and delight,

Was, by her veil, denied her features now;
Yet through her potent unseen virtue, felt
Again that ancient love’s tremendous power.

>>24492349 (OP)

Eva drew my head on to her breast. ‘Poor darling, you mustn’t take on so. You don’t see it now, but it was all for the best. She’d have ruined your whole life. Nobody blames you, love. Nobody blames you.’

I pulled myself away from her abruptly. ‘Oh my God,’ I said, ‘that’s the trouble.’

bump

>>24492349 (OP)
That post was made by someone who genuinely believes women care about men at all, lmfao.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

>"There was a girl next door," he said, slowly. "She's gone now, I think, dead. I can't even remember her face. But she was different. How--how did she happen?"

Pro-choicers just deserve to be exterminated. Why should their moral choice be indulged in any meaningful way? They're vermin. They are the moral equivalent of rats and cockroaches.

>>24492360
>fertilized life is the same thing as unfertilized sperm cell
Disingenuous post, but I'll bite. You actually shouldn't be cumming outside a woman, either.

>>24492360
>Implying I don't retain my semen.

>>24492349 (OP)
The Raven and Annabel leigh

>>24492372
La Vita Nuova is more appropriate.

>>24492349 (OP)
Odd Thomas

>>24492360
gamete cells are not a growing human organism

>>24496211
a fetus is not sentient

>>24492360
>semen leakage during sleep is undirect murder