maybe someday....

wordclots:

I want to feel it, the breathtaking certainty, that comes when you’re loved.

She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cosy bed, and to love and be loved in return.

the courage it took to get out of bed each morning to face the same things over and over was enormous.

There comes a point when apologies seem more like broken records rather than genuine contrition. It’s like they say it for their own benefit— to ease their guilt and quiet their conscience, rather than to make amends with those they have done wrong. Because why would you even bother to say sorry, if you’re going to do it over and over again?

Stop setting yourself on fire for someone who stays to watch you burn.

I feel nothing or I feel everything. I don’t know which is worse.

And a mistake repeated more than once is a decision.

You’ll likely end up disappointed if you think people will care for you the way you care for them. Not everybody has your heart.

It is both a burden and a blessing, to feel everything as deeply as I do.

Maybe this is what it’s all about. You love a person for as long as you possibly can until you run out of love. You love them even when they don’t love you. And then you can leave, as quietly as you came, knowing that you gave all you had, knowing that you couldn’t have been any more than what you were and that it was pure, that it was full and that you were honest with it all.