She is not sorry for being the girl who loves with everything she has.
I don’t think it’s our fault that we do it. It’s how our hearts were made, really. It’s how our hearts were molded and held. We were born to be givers. To be the ones with bigger hearts than most, that grow and grow without needing to be full.
A love like ours can’t be explained because it’s just you and me, and you’re all I’ll ever need.
Because, just like earthquakes, the aftershocks of loving someone too much can be stronger than the initial destruction.
I fell in love with the fall, and with him, all at once. And I knew right then and there that I was never going to fall back down.
Wherever you might be right now, I want you to look in to the nearest mirror, and say, “I am beautiful.” Say it more than once, say it over and over, shout it, sing it, embody it.
You believe that you’re unworthy of love and attention because your past taught you that you’ll never be loved the way you always wanted to. You continue to settle for half-love or almost relationships because that’s what you know for sure. That’s what you got used to. That’s what you secretly think you deserve.
I thought about how wildly beautiful it is that we were once just strangers, wandering around this earth without the taste of each other’s names on our tongues. How life simply happens, love simply happens. Especially when we’re not looking.
You’re sitting in between two boys and you love both of them. They look through you, the glass window in a burning room. It’s ironic that panic buttons cease to matter when everything’s already up in flames.
It’s sitting with them in silence and being okay with it. Because silence doesn’t make them uncomfortable and sometimes they just appreciate the company.