Walking to class has to be the worse, especially if it is his class. Seeing the couples in the corridors, holding hands, laughing, joking, kissing each other goodbye. It just reminds me of what I don’t have, reminds me of what I can’t have no matter how hard I wish I could. We will never be able to hold hands walking down these corridors, we will never be able to jokingly kiss goodbye between classes and It makes me sick. I never thought Id be the girl who hates love. But I hate love because I love it so damn much and I can’t have it
—  L.S.
If i hadn’t of fallen in love with you, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with writing.
—  L.S.
I was so consumed by loving him that i forgot what hating myself felt like. His voice was the light that guided me through the dark. Everyone needs someone to make them feel like tomorrow is more than just another day. He’s my person. He’s my tomorrow
—  L.S.
Maybe i didn’t fall in love with him as a whole person.
But all the individual things that made him, him.
Like his grown out stubble he refuses to call a beard
His skin like coffee with too much added milk
and the vast oceans that live inside his eyes
—  L.S.
The thing about loving someone double you age, half your age whatever is that no matter how hard your try. No matter how perfectly matched you are, some people simply won’t understand. They’ll laugh, sneer and judge from a far. It shouldn’t be a problem, right? Wrong, because sometimes the other person can’t take the heat, they can’t take the judgement and the pressure. They have careers to think about, sometimes families and consequences. The saddest thing in the world is that as much as we wish it was, love just isn't enough to hold two people together. What’s worse is that the same two people, alone in the world would be the definition of perfect.
—  L.S.
Just don’t forget me.
I hope that I will cross your mind every once in a while.
Maybe if you hear the tune that I always hum when I’m working,
If you meet someone with my name
Maybe if you pass someone in the street with my perfume you might turn you head out of familiarity, and wonder about the girl with a french plait you once knew.
I know I’ll think of you every morning that I drink my coffee black.
Every time I see a blue tie with worn edges.
When I see a man carrying an old leather notebook I won’t be able to stop the corners of my mouth turning up as images of you with yours will flash through my mind.
I know neither of us ever said anything aloud to the other.
But for me
This was real
And even if in five years you call me at 3am
I’ll still be yours
And I’ll still call your arms home
—  L.S.
How long could we have lasted? Another day? Week? Year? Decade? Would we have gotten married, cried during our first dance and honeymooned in Italy? Had two babies, a house with a white Pickett fence and a dog? Would we have clung to each other another few years until we both went down, drowned in our love, beautiful but suffocating. What if you hadn’t of gotten scared? We hadn’t cared about others opinions? What if i was older? Smarter? Prettier? Would that of made a difference? Maybe that would of made you fight harder. Where would we be now?
—  L.S.
Who knew that one day the little girl who was determined she would grow up to slay dragons and go on adventures would give it all up because of a smile, a pair of blue eyes and a fluttery feeling she gets in her stomach when they look into hers. I think it’s just as brave that she stayed, willing to get her heart broken, willing to give up her dreams for her soul mate.
—  L.S.
I want you. I want your entirety. I don’t just want burning passion on a Friday night when red wine and whisky flow through our veins. I want to leave little notes on the kitchen table for you. I want to drink coffee with you in December and orange juice in June. I want you when your angry, sad, ecstatic with happiness. I just want all of you all the time and i guess thats how i know i love you
—  L.S.
Since you left my favourite time of the day is the 3 seconds i get when i first wake up, when my mind is blank and i can’t quite remember anything, just before i’m fully conscious and then it hits me like a ton of bricks and my whole body floods with a physical pain, an ache that hasn’t left since you told me that you didn’t loved me anymore
—  L.S.
We both fell in love with the illusion of love. The illusion of something more than our everyday lives. Something unorthodox something forbidden but inconceivably desirable
—  L.S.