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.

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.

Silence is only awkward if one cannot feel a connection with the other.

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.

The hard part wasn’t breaking up. The hard part is forcing myself to fall out of love with you.

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

His eyes said what I cannot see.