Today my heart hurt for the first time in a while

“Thank you for filling my heart with all of these colors even if you are not aware that you do. You really do.”

“if i promise to make you spaghetti once a week for the rest of our lives, will you make sure i have coffee every morning? if you protect me from all the evil clowns in this world, i promise to hold you on the nights where it feels too hard to breathe. despite my fear of heights i will fall for you, as long as you promise to fall too.”

“It’s a tragically beautiful thing, don’t you think, to have somebody to miss.”

“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.”

““Too much imagination. Too much creativity. That’s why dreamers don’t succeed in the real world.” they told me. “I know,” I replied. “But in all the worlds I’ve created I was free—and I was alive—and I was loved. And I still am.””

“There’s not one day that I don’t wonder if it’s worth it, but you always remind me that it is. That even if the sky falls and the world crumbles, we will fight our way through this, hands held, one step at a time.”

He loves like fire. Every time he touches me, I can hear summer calling my name, and I melt, melt, melt when our eyes meet. He keeps me warm on winter nights, but sometimes the light of his love burns me into nonexistence. See, I love like ice. I send chills down his spine and goosebumps litter his skin when our lips touch. My kisses are like cold water droplets slipping down, down, down until he is shaking with it. My love freezes time. We express in different ways, but we are self-aware. We recognize that fire and ice must tread carefully around one another, for they are each their own extreme. But I would rather his love burn me to death than swim in the same icy ocean with someone, looking at each other through salt-blurred eyes, only to realize we’re miles apart and we’ve gone numb to the waves.

“(…) how much honey can the heart stand, I wonder, before it must break?”

“My father slapped my heart, but my mind is what broke. I am the name of the nameless. I am the voice of the voiceless. I am the love of the hopeless. I roam and roam, not knowing that I am rootless.”

In all the seven seas, the oceans, and the breeze, find your way home. And realize all that you search for: exists in your very existence.

You type what you’re feeling and press send before you have a chance to talk yourself out of it. And then you wait, and wait, and wait, and nothing comes back, so all those things you thought were so important to say, really, they weren’t. They weren’t worth saying at all.

Maturity… is knowing what your limitations are. Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter can be said to remedy anything.