I’d choose you. Every goddamned time.
There was actually nothing beautiful or poetic about it.
You shattered my fucking heart.
It hurts to let go. Sometimes it seems the harder you try to hold on to something or someone the more it wants to get away. You feel like some kind of criminal for having felt, for having wanted. For having wanted to be wanted. It confuses you, because you think that your feelings were wrong and it makes you feel so small because it’s so hard to keep it inside when you let it out and it doesn’t come back. You’re left so alone that you can’t explain.
Damn, there’s nothing like that, is there? I’ve been there and you have too. You’re nodding your head.
If people want to let you go, just let them do it. They may not understand who you are. So don’t play around with fire; don’t give them their cake and let them eat it too. Here is your rule of thumb: they either commit to you or get none of you.
Joey Furjanic, The Heartbreak Hotel: How Long Will You Stay? (via quotestuff)
Even when I detach, I care. You can be separate from a thing and still care about it. If I wanted to detach completely, I would move my body away. I would stop the conversation midsentence. I would leave the bed. Instead, I hover over it for a second. I glance off in another direction. But I always glance back at you.
David Levithan, The Lover’s Dictionary (via quotestuff)
the courage it took to get out of bed each
to face the same things
over and over