For the rest of my life, I will count each day with you well spent.
In this ridiculous, dramatic, messy world, you, my love, are the only thing that always makes sense.
There’s potential for a story in every stranger, but you’re in control of the narrative just as much as they are.
I hope for love to still embrace me when I’m hardest to love me, when I’m the perfect noun for disastrous, when I’m complicated and flawed, when I can’t even look at myself.
I don’t know where he is in the world right now, but I know that he’s out there somewhere.
Of all the things that you can describe about her is that she isn’t easy.
You were born to be a storyteller and I was never bored to hear your voice. You always have something to be told, to be laughed, and to convince me that the universe is actually kind.
There’s a certain radiance you emit when you’re in love.
I thank 2016 for the chance to discover how much I love being with you.
Don’t let hardships make you hard. But never be too soft.