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.

Sometimes the anxiety takes over and I can’t seem to fathom the love he gives me.

I realized I loved him after everything went wrong so I wallowed in self-pity and prayed I could wake up.

Sometimes forever doesn’t happen. And that’s something we all occasionally forget.

You were quite lovely, but I mixed lovely with homely because I was young and naive. So plain and simple, yet pleasant and handsome. You felt like home, but that’s where I went wrong.

I love and I lust and it really doesn’t matter if they love me back because sometimes that’s what love is.

Love is the intense feeling behind dying and killing for someone other than yourself.

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.

They always come back, but we don’t always answer.