Date someone who meets you half way. Date someone who brings you a glass a water when they get themselves one. Date someone who makes sure you don’t spend money on ridiculous things. Date someone your ex hates and your mom loves. Date someone who’d rather spend a Friday night watching movies, than out with 50 people they barely even talk to. Date someone who sleeps on your chest and leaves a little puddle of drool. Don’t date someone who makes you leave oceans of tears.

Look around you. Appreciate what you have. Nothing will be the same in a year.

Fall in love with yourself first.

You think you’ve seen her naked because she took her clothes off? You’ve kissed her lips, and you’ve climbed inside her. Somehow you think that’s enough to know and love someone. Tell me about her nightmares? The ones that have her twitching next to you as you snore on, oblivious. Look down at your unblemished hands and tell me how many times you’ve cut yourself on the pieces of her broken heart. Tell me why she paints, Why she writes, Why she takes long baths. Tell me about her life, her childhood. Tell me about the first man who broke her heart. Tell me about her father and her brother. Tell me about her demons, and her fears. Tell me about her insecurities and the conversations she has with herself. Tell me about everything she wants from life. Tell me all the tiny little things she’s wished upon a star for. Tell me why her favorite city is her favorite city. Tell me why she flinches, ever so slightly, when you call her beautiful. Tell me all the little things you hate about her, and I’ll tell you why I love them. Tell me about her darkness, and I’ll tell you about her light. No my friend, you may have seen her body, but you have still yet to see her naked.

The best revenge is not giving a shit.

You think you’ve seen her naked because she took her clothes off? Tell me about her dreams. Tell me what breaks her heart. What is she passionate about, and what makes her cry? Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, tell me one story about her that you’re not in.   You’ve seen her skin, and you’ve touched her body. But you still know as much about her as a book you once found, but never got around to opening.