I didn’t fear you. I feared us. I feared what could have been. I feared what could be. I feared the connection we had between each other. The toxicity because I could grasp the danger.

I don’t want content. I want slight fear. Anxiety. I want a longing devotion for a twist of absence. The feeling of complete isn’t quite pleasing.

They’re scared of death, but that’s like being afraid of life.

They’re scared of the other kind of love. The one which lacks hurt, but pains after awhile.

He steals your knees, not because he needs you, but because he feeds off of your fears.