on my way home

It’s all right to love someone who doesn’t love you back, as long as they’re worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.

The world only exists in your eyes. You can make it as big or as small as you want.

It is only once in a while that you see someone whose electricity and presence matches yours at that moment.

I knew that what was left of me would always love you, but never in quite the same way.

If we wait until we’re ready, we’ll be waiting for the rest of our lives.

I love that word. Forever. I love that forever doesn’t exist, but we have a word for it anyway, and use it all the time. It’s beautiful and doomed.

If only we could see the endless string of consequences that result from our smallest actions. But we can’t know better until knowing better is useless.

There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.

Almost. It’s a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. not yet. Soon, maybe.

It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.

I don’t ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight.

I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.

Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.

And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.

There are people we meet in life who miss being important to us by inches, days, or heartbeats. Another place or time or a different emotional frame of mind and we would willingly fall into their arms; gladly take up their challenges or invitation. But as it is, we encounter them when we are discontent or content and they are not. Whatever they are, we are not and vice versa. Two trains going in different directions that pass for a few powerful moments at full speed, blasting noise and wind but then they are gone. Whatever serious chemistry might have been possible if, isn’t.

I swear I only want to hear about you, to know what you’ve been doing. It’s a hundred years since we’ve met- it may be another hundred years before we meet again.

When I first met him, I knew in a moment I would have to spend the next few days re-arranging my mind so there’d be room for him to stay.