Mon Chéri,

you treat them like they  have a heart like yours but not everyone can be as soft and as tender you don’t see the  person they are you see the person they have the potential to be you give and give till  they pull everything out of you and leave you empty

I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

Always, over and over, these days and nights will come, the anxiety, the aversion, the doubt. And I will still live, and I will still love life.

But tell me, who decided to paint you so flawlessly yet never gave you the confidence to stand in the light.

your wounds will never be a burden to a lover who has ears that never close, and has patience that runs deeper than oceans. your wounds will never be a burden to a lover who appreciates your journey so far, and pours honey on parts of you that still need healing. your wounds will never be a burden to a lover who celebrates your being by the sun, and thanks god for your existence with the moon.

I am so afraid of disappointing the people I love, I often forget that I am someone I love too. And I need kindness just as much as I believe the people I love do.

People always change, but memories don’t.

To heal a wound you need to stop touching it.

Be with somebody who always wants to know how you slept.