bite me

“Actually, there is a word for that. It’s love. I’m in love with her, okay? If you’re looking for the word that means caring for someone beyond all rationality and wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you, its love! And when you love someone y-you just don’t stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy. Even then. Especially then. You just- you don’t give up because if I could give up… If I could just, you know, take the whole world’s advice and- and move on and find someone else, that wouldn’t be love. That would be… That would be some other disposable thing that is not worth fighting for. But that is not what this is.

I am troubled and harsh and hopeless. Though I have love inside me. But I don’t know how to use love. Sometimes it scratches like barbs.

You weren’t the first to leave me but you were the first to swear you wouldn’t.

“Don’t,” She furiously wiped the tears from her eyes, “Don’t say that you won’t leave me. Everyone says they won’t leave,” She hiccuped, pressing her palms against her eyes before letting out a loud sigh, “But they always do.”

She was a lion’s roar, broken glass, and a thousand tiny paper cuts: frightening, beautiful, and very, very cruel.

I think hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go.

She treats you the way she wishes someone would treat her. So please don’t be annoyed if she keeps asking if you’re alright. It’s just because no one ever asked her.

I just can’t get rid of the feeling that I am a bad person with a good heart. I always want to do the right thing but in the end I’m fucking things up. In the end I’m always fucking things up.

I’m not really so hard & cynical after all — in fact I’m still dangerously soft.