“If one day,” she said to him, “you happen to fall for another and you are torn between her and I,”

“Please don’t hold onto me. Please promise me that you will love her the way she deserves to be loved, and that you will let me go.”

“Because,” she breathed, “I think I am more than just an option.”

“I think, I deserve to be someone’s top priority, to be someone’s one and only.”

—  L.W. // Forgotten Words #78 // No one deserves to be an option

It’s terrifying because it doesn’t feel painful to me, yet. It’s terrifying because everyone else has been sharp and sudden and finite. Everyone else has been falling from rooftops, slamming face first into the concrete.

But with you, it’s like I’m still waiting to hit the ground. It’s like being suspended in mid-air and feeling the wind crash into me. It’s like jumping and jumping and jumping but never making it past the seventeenth floor. It’s like closing my eyes and finding myself back on the ledge, taking the first step.

With you, it’s feeling the fall a thousand times over but never hitting the concrete. It’s my heart going numb but never stopping, just slowing down enough to know I’m still alive. It’s the adrenaline rush and the constant anxiety of it all

—  Reena B.| The breathlessness of it all.
I don’t trust people easily. So, if I’m still by your side after all these years, then you’re doing something no one else has been able to do. You accepted me.
I’m so torn between
wanting sadistic revenge
and wanting to forgive you.
—  VoicelessConfessions || Eternal Dilemma

The weather continued to get brighter and colder, and suddenly the world was full of colour again, and the light was so bright that Algy’s eyes could hardly adjust to it after months of gloomy grey half-light. He set off into the sunshine, and flew over to a high point on the north coast, where he found a fine spot to sunbathe which was sheltered from the bitter north-east wind. The sea had turned deep blue, and he could see for miles in every direction. It was a truly glorious late-winter afternoon!

i. the first time you hear your mother talk about being brave, you would want to reach across the table to show her the list of the things that could’ve made you the happiest if only you weren’t too anxious to even move your feet to try. you would want to ask her where she’s been all these years, and why, why on earth, she’s talking to you about it just now, and you would want to cover her skin with shame for not teaching you how to be brave enough to let yourself live someplace where the oxygen is far different from the kind you’ve gotten used of living with… but, no, you wouldn’t do all this, because it would sink in that maybe, just maybe, this is also her first time to know of bravery.

ii. don’t go back to being scared just because your brave is different from other people’s. if theirs include jumping off high cliffs and skinny-dipping and kissing strangers while yours include saying how you truly feel and simply flaunting your new haircut, then it’s perfectly okay. besides, it all starts there: learning how to embrace your own while watching others parade theirs.

iii. drop the mindset that being brave is the only choice you have to be able to go through the day, because truth is, choosing to be brave is just the beginning. so, no, tell yourself that being brave is not the only choice you have–it is actually just the first of many. so wait ‘til bravery introduce you to a world made of endless choices. let it. you deserve the assurance that you aren’t caged.

—  Irally Cariaso, On Being Brave

I may not see you as much, but I’ll always be here for you.

In my most darkest moments, you were there. It must’ve taken a lot of strength and will power to stick by me, I’ll always be grateful for our midnight talks and hours spent sat in your living room.

I’ve seen you at your best. I’ve seen you laugh until tears are swarming in your pretty eyes. I’ve seen you cry and crack, I’ve seen you push on and succeed.

At the heart of it all, you’re my best friend. And I’ll always be here, through whatever, just as you are for me.

I love you, dear friend.

—  ‘Until The End’, from me to you.
I love how she poses in front of the camera with those cute and pesky gestures. Whenever I see her eyes smiling from her cheeks, it freaks my soul out. I love the way she stares at me, it slowly melts every part of my heart as if I was a butter in a pan. I love how she giggles whenever I crack jokes and the way she distracts me whenever I tell stories. My heart always skips a beat whenever I hear her laugh. I love the way she entwines her arms on mine whenever we’re in a populous place. It makes me feel that I’m the most significant being in her world. Whenever she holds my hand, it removes my worrying and uncertainties. Her fingers perfectly fit in the spaces between mine. I love her brown eyes. I could see the world and even the whole universe in them. Those great heavenly bodies are imprisoned on her eyes. It perfectly fits on her. Whenever she sings songs, it drifts me away from a different dimension as if we’re the only one living on it. I love the way she wants me to be with her every single time. Whenever she calls me “baby”, it produces romantically excitement and shivery feeling inside of me. I love everything about her. I really do.
Maybe it’s not true love, written in the stars, or the makings of a romance novel, but what kind of love is? Love at first sight— do I believe it? I’m not sure yet. I believe that love starts out as a mutual understanding, a mutual liking of another person. Love changes, grows, and evolves to fit both of your lives. This relationship starts to build and an unbreakable bond is forged. Sometimes it’s romantic, and most other times it’s platonic, but regardless, it’s love. So, maybe you weren’t love at first sight, or even like at first sight, but you are like and love with time. You are the very best kind.
—  1:06am thoughts// I’m still unsure about what you mean to me, but let me tell you, you are something
One day, you’re gonna meet someone and they’re gonna love you more than anyone ever has. I’m not going to lie to you, it won’t be perfect. It won’t be sunshine and daisies all the time. It’ll be hard and painful. You’ll fight and argue and cry and want to bail. The butterflies in your stomach don’t last forever. But what you get is better - you get safety, comfort and love. Love is unpredictable, it can be harsh, it can bite and wound harder than a knife, because emotions are harder to forget. Harder to heal. But at the end of the day, if you get it, hold onto it. Love is perfectly imperfect, not because it sets out to overpower you, but because it is a very real, very human emotion.
—  ‘Love’, words said by a girl who wants to believe in love and kindness, but it’s not always easy. 

I’m between your thighs again but
This time I’m on my knees
Begging for another chance.
The cold air of unease separates our aching figures
Tainted with my pleas that
Linger in the fog of your dissipating love.

- but I’m still shackled to your ankles
Grasping at the shards of the thousand
You couldn’t keep,
Fingers grappling to rebuild
The world we filled.

I can’t find the pieces.

You turn
To walk away
I sink
Into my hands
Fading to the ground
With the love you never found.

—  It was too much to be enough