It’s funny how you can forget everything except people loving you. Maybe that’s why humans find it so hard getting over love affairs. It’s not the pain they’re getting over, it’s the love.
Hold my hand because I might disappear.
Be prepared for the worst, my love, for it lives next door to the best.
Is a person worth more because they have someone to grieve for them?
When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don’t know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don’t know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.
Because being part of him isn’t just anything. It’s kind of everything.
From this distance everything is so bloody perfect.
And life goes on, which seems kind of strange and cruel when you’re watching someone die.