Love until you feel like your heart might give out, and even then, keep loving. I promise there will never be enough to go around.
I can see you in everything I do, in every place I go, in the claps of thunder outside my window, in the sound of my best friend’s laugh from miles and miles away.
Realizing that you’re made of more than your mistakes kick-starts your whole world.
I know you. I know you’re hurting, and that right now, you think you’re not good for much of anything.
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I don’t know who I’m writing this for.
She is fire. She smolders, burning and collapsing into herself every single night just to see what happens.
You were made for more, to move mountains and jump to the stars, and I know you’ll find exactly where you’re supposed to be. I know it.
Loving you was and never will be past tense. You’re never just a thing of the past, a lifeless figure that slowly fades to grey with time.
Because when you see her, it won’t be anything like you imagined. It’ll plant a seed of sadness in your heart and you’ll want to reach out for nourishment, just like old times.
It means wanting everything to be perfect, but having trouble finding the motivation to give it your all. It means knowing you can, and probably should, accomplish a task relatively quickly, but something stops you dead in your tracks. The dreadful feeling is underneath your skin, weaving its way throughout every corner of you.