Sure, he might not have been perfect, but if I thought he was, isn’t that all that matters?

He wasn’t my boyfriend, but he was something. Someone who made a positive impact on my life regardless of the negative. He changed my perspective for the better and made me who I am in this very second. I appreciate, cherish, and thank him for it; and I will for this life and into any life that may come.

True love is not expecting a response when you say I love you.

I believe I’ve already met my soulmate and even if I’m not his, the memory makes me smile because it was truly beautiful.

You were a rhyme who mattered, a being who slipped all too often.

I loved you with different words than you knew and that seemed to scare you.

If I had amnesia, I know I would fall in love with you all over again.

I love him. So much. To the point where you won’t understand. You don’t get it because I don’t get it. It’s there. It exists. It flows. It moves like rapids through my veins. Comes with bursts and occasionally fades with the day, but it’s always there. And when you find love like that, you don’t want to give it up. But sometimes you have to and sometimes you have to give it to someone else. That’s the hard part.

Loving him made me never want to love another human being.