I miss you. God, I miss you. Not in the way you miss people, but in the way you miss being home.

She is the kind of woman that breaks your heart by being too good at loving you. She’s the kind that you don’t deserve and you know it - so you spend the rest of your life earning that right - the right to deserve her, and hoping to god it’s good enough. And you know what? It is.

I love you but I don’t know what to do.

No matter how much pain this has caused, if I could rewrite my life, you’re one of the few things I would never delete.

and four years later you’re dancing around your kitchen with a pint of milk in your hand. the windows are open wide, the neighbors are still awake, and they are watching you. they are watching you fall in love with being alive.

The best revenge is to improve yourself.