diary of a hopeless romantic

“Why don’t you talk anymore?”

I was done with love

"(...) when you're kissing her Touching her, staring in her eyes? Tell me, do I ever, do I ever cross your mind When you run your hands through her hair like you did to mine? Tell me, do I ever, do I ever cross your mind?"

“Human touch. Our first form of communication. Safety, security, comfort, all in the gentle caress of a finger. Or the brush of lips on a soft cheek. It connects us when we’re happy, bolsters us in times of fear, excites us in times of passion and love. We need that touch from the one we love, almost as much as we need air to breathe. But I never understood the importance of touch. His touch. Until I couldn’t have it. So if you’re (reading) this, and you’re able, touch him. Touch her. Life’s too short to waste a second.”