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Give me yourself so that I can love every part of you, so that I can stand beside you when the storms come, so that we can make meaning of this life, even when it hurts.

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I don’t want a superhero, a prince charming, a savior. I don’t want anything other than an imperfect soul intertwining his arms, his hands, his heart with me.

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Don’t you dare think you can close our door, but keep it opened just a crack, in case you want to return when your legs aren’t as unsteady.

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I am not the girl you get to hold for a moment, then let go of. The girl whose worth is determined by the eagerness of your hands.

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I don’t do casual, I don’t do part-time.

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Love is not searching for a flawless person, but embracing your mess, another’s mess, and the beautiful mess you can make together.

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I don’t care for someone who longs to feel my body; I want a man who is desperate to touch my heart. Someone who wants to learn my mind, who I am, what I believe, what I think about, what I love.

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I don’t want a relationship that can’t be labeled, a connection that has no commitment nor promise of a future. I want someone whose heart I can hold.