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

Maybe the problem isn’t everything and everyone around you, but what lies within you.

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

There was something really crazy about the way you said my name.

I came for a portion but left with the universe.

You embrace death because life doesn’t exist without it.

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

The difference between fucking and loving is taboo to some because not everyone can separate their emotions.

I always cherish moments in the aftermath, never truly understanding their impact twined with my life experience in that very second. And to me, that is a beautiful realization.