“Pick your poison.” he said.

“I choose you.” she whispered one last time.

I just want to cry but I seem to have no tears left in me.

We didn’t break up how I imagined. There was no raging argument, no storming out and swearing. We broke up quietly, kindly. I left and cried in my car desperately alone.

I feel like a sandcastle on the beach in love with the oceans waves. I know you’ll tear me down but I so desperately miss your presence.

I miss you so much

I’m done chasing you. Now I’m moving on.

I want to break your heart. Smash it up and crumble it into little pieces. Maybe then you’ll understand what it feels like to be me.

Our love is like a delicate plant. And you forgot to water it.

Fight for me you stupid fucking son of a bitch. Fight for me like you want me… please want me.

When I loved you and you loved me, I didn’t know what to do. And now, I know what I’m doing and am ready for it all. But you don’t love me anymore.

What is love?

Is it sleepless nights and racing hearts?

Is it calm touches and the gentle caress?

Is it lust and heat and desire?

Or is it simply feeling at peace and at rest for the very first time?

It takes us a lifetime to die and yet that is no time at all.