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“I deserve someone who actually gives a fuck about me because I’ve spent my entire life making other people happy when all they did was leave.”

“tell me a secret” “like what?” “i don’t know anything i cant possibly know everything about you” “okay my secret is i’m afraid” “afraid of what?” (“i’m afraid of you of how much i love you of how much you mean to me because i’m afraid that you’ll get tired of me or decide i’m too much to handle that i’m not worth it anymore i’m afraid that you’ll realize i don’t deserve you that you can do better than settling for me and even though i want you to be different i’m afraid that you’ll end up like everyone else i’m afraid that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me and i’m so afraid of messing it up”) “i’m afraid of the dark” “really?” “yeah there’s just something about the unknown that really gives me anxiety”

““I hope you will always remember one thing.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “What is it?” “Three words,” he looked at her lovingly, “I got you.” “No matter who you are, what you will be and what happens,” he continued, “I got you.” She smiled and slid her fingers into the palm of his hand on her face. “I hope you will always remember one thing too.” “Also three words,” she went on, holding up her middle, ring and pinky fingers, “I love you.””

“It’s you. It’s always been you.”