The things you love will destroy you. Every time.

We knew that beauty was everywhere around us. But we frequently made the mistake of forgetting that it was also within us.

I liked the ocean. I felt that it was just as much a part of me as my very soul. The ocean was the only place I knew where losing yourself and finding yourself meant the same thing.

It doesn’t matter how much I wish, or how much I feel, or how much I know. It doesn’t matter that I feel like you’re the only one for me. It doesn’t matter that you’re all I think about, all I talk about, and all that I am. It doesn’t matter if I can’t share it with you. Nothing I feel matters if I can’t share it with you. Nothing I do matters if you aren’t a part of it. I can write or talk all I want, but that doesn’t make you mine. Just because I love you the same way I used to doesn’t mean you come running back to me. It doesn’t matter that I realized my mistake, that I realized that you’re my one and only, if I can’t have you. Just because I love you doesn’t make you love me. Writing about you doesn’t make you love me. I could say all the nicest things in the world, and spill my whole heart out, but if you didn’t care, it wouldn’t even matter.

I can’t promise that I won’t let you down.

Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word.

Sometimes the things you want the most don’t happen and what you least expect happens. I don’t know – you meet thousands of people and none of them really touch you. And then you meet that one person and your life is changed.

Some secrets are safer kept hidden. Some secrets are too dangerous to share, even with those you love and trust.

In that moment, I felt my heart break. And I thought, “I can’t live without you. I don’t want to live without you,” and then it slowly crept into my mind that no matter how bad I wanted or needed you, it wouldn’t matter. Somehow, and very painfully I was sure, my life would continue. With or without you, right?

I shouldn’t still feel like this. Not after this much time.. you shouldn’t be able to affect me this much. I shouldn’t catch myself constantly drifting off, daydreaming about what was and replaying all the old memories. Little things said or done shouldn’t still remind me of what used to be.. you shouldn’t be all I think about. Not after this constant hurt. Not after all this time.. but boy, I have a feeling you’re going to be the one I compare everyone to from now on..

And then, there’s another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. It’s called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded.

If anyone asks, I’ll tell them we both just moved on. When people all stare I’ll pretend that I don’t hear them talk. Whenever I see you,I’ll swallow my pride and bite my tongue, pretend I’m okay with it all, act like there’s nothing wrong.

Some things you can fix and some things you can’t. And I just think it is a shame to walk away from the things you can.

But the actual touch of him lingered, inside her heart. That remained. In all the years of her life ahead, the long years without him, with never seeing him or hearing from him or knowing anything about him, if he was alive or happy or dead or what, that touch stayed locked within her, sealed in herself, and never went away. That one touch of his hand.


4 Responses

  1. Post more! I miss them

  2. I visit this website a lot and really enjoy reading all the quotes that are posted, but i really wish you would post more frequently…

    • I completely understand and I honestly would more if I could, but I am really am doing the most that I can right now.

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