“I can’t exactly describe how I feel but it’s not quite right. And it leaves me cold.”

If you genuinely feel regret for what you’ve done and wouldn’t do it again, then why would you deserve to continue to suffer if you’ve changed? You aren’t that person anymore. Doesn’t the person you are now deserve forgiveness?

real love is not like the poetry. it is not i love you spat down each other’s throats or finding a reason to live again because you found this one person. It is so much simpler than that. real love is telling them to go back to sleep because it is still early and you know they need it, even if you want them to be awake with you. It’s realizing it won’t always be easy but still choosing them every day and wanting to be the very best for them. that’s it, it’s not as deep as you think.

For the moment I am really very, very tired of everything — more than tired.

in case you need to hear this today-

This is literally the most beautiful poem I’ve ever read.

"You know, love doesn't mean "l never want you to change." But I don't think it means "I don't care if you change" either. So I suppose it might mean, "I believe that you'll always be the person I adore." A declaration of faith, perhaps."

“Everyone must leave something behind when he dies, my grandfather said. A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you’re there. It doesn’t matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that’s like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said.”

You think the world would love you better without your holy edges, without your bleeding wounds and unsightly want. You think the world would love you better but it's just the world.