It’s you. It’s always been you. It’s been you since the day we met and it will forever be you until the day we are no longer living. It’s always going to be you that I think of when I am awake at 3am and when I wake up at 6am. No one can ever come close to you and I don’t want them to. They could try for hours days and years and they will never be you. You are my happiness and my sadness. You are my laughter and tears. You are the one I think of when I fall asleep and the one I think of when I wake up. It’s always been you and as I tell you these words you will never read I feel as if you know. We both know. Everyone knows it’s supposed to be us but us. No one else will ever match as perfectly as we do and no one will mentally combine as amazing as us. We can try all we want to deny what we know is true but it will never work. We are meant to end up together and you know that. You know that. Even the girl you are with right now knows it. She knows she isn’t the one and she knows what people say. It’s us. It’s always been us. One day it will be us.
—  When will we finally admit it? (paxadisee)
Escribiría un libro y después otro y otro, llenando toda una biblioteca con ellos, rodeándome de sus letras, sus comas, sus puntos seguidos y apartes… y me dormiría con todos y con cada uno de sus títulos, despertándome de nuevo entre ellos, recordando con tierna alegría lo protegido y querido que fui por la literatura.
Lei guardò fuori dalla finestra, il velluto nero della notte avvolgeva il mondo, il suo sguardo nel vuoto.
Fu in quel momento che vidi una profonda tristezza passarle negli occhi, i dubbi che solo un cuore fragile può far nascere. Erano pieni di parole mai pronunciate e decisioni lasciate sospese. Vedevo l'ombra di quell'ultimo amore, quello non vissuto, che sapeva di felicità, quello mai iniziato per paura di delusioni.
Era malinconia e solitudine. Era vetro, freddo e fragile. Era come vedere l'inutile perfezione di un'errore mai commesso.
E mi chiesi, con grande sconforto, se si potesse morire per tanto dolore, quando in effetti non si era mai vissuto.
—  Stefania Leonoir
Lo so che ti sembra smielato ma l'amore è passione, ossessione, qualcuno senza cui non vivi. Io ti dico: “Buttati a capofitto! Trovati qualcuno che ami alla follia e che ti ami alla stessa maniera!”
Come trovarlo? Bè, dimentica il cervello e ascolta il cuore.
Io non sento il tuo cuore perché la verità, tesoro, è che non ha senso vivere se manca questo.
Fare il viaggio e non innamorarsi profondamente, beh, equivale a non vivere. Ma devi tentare perché se non hai tentato non hai mai vissuto.
—  staywithmeyou
Your absence is nothing but a trivial matter to others, but for me it is consuming. The moments spent without you seem to lack the same amount of life they once encapsulated so effortlessly.
—  (c.m) // I miss you
There was something about the way he held my back and how he said my name under his breath. And something about the way he looked me dead in the eye when he first told me he loved me; holding my hands at that moment too. He knew exactly how I liked my coffee and knew my order by heart at our favorite restaurant. He would love taking pictures of us together and would do anything to make me smile. Calling me at 1:30 in the morning when he knew I was mad at him just to hear my voice and tell me goodnight. Always running up behind me to open the car door for me even if I was 2 feet away. I was stupid to let him go, because now that he’s gone I can’t seem to find anyone else who can make me happy.