They say that love makes the world go ’round—and they’re probably right. But what kind of love do we actually deserve? Just the kind that crosses our paths? Or do we deserve something deeper, something more?
She doesn’t expect you to be her savior. She didn’t ask for one.
There comes a time where you feel alone, so alone, that it doesn’t even matter how many people you have around you because the emptiness is seeping out from within.
No I am not going to say you were my person because you are my person. You will always be my person.
Love is not understanding what you’re feeling because there isn’t a word in the English language to describe what you feel.
However, there is no need for you to defeat the loneliness, because at the end of the day; all of us are destined to be alone.
Empaths tend to carry the weight of the world, or be a bleeding heart, or always offer her shoulder to cry on, or fill in your own cliché.
You are my brilliant ending; my fairy tale amidst sappy Harlequin romance novels; a love that doesn’t compare to the words of Nicholas Sparks, of Emily Bronte, or John Green.
You probably didn’t even realize how heartbroken I was.
This unholy war we’ve decided to call love. Maybe we just wouldn’t know anything else.