“Isn’t it funny how days can become years, and yet still one person means everything to you. Even when everything tries to pull you apart, you just cling closer to one another. Maybe it’s our need for familiarity or maybe just maybe it’s just love.”
“The way I see it, you have two options. To quit this, us, our relationship, or we fight , fight like we never have to make it to the moon and back. If I’m still the person you find solace in, home in, happiness in, then fight, fight for us, fight for me.”
“All I know is if you’re in love with someone, you should be happy. If the person you’re with doesn’t make you happy, doesn’t make a whole zoo rumble in your tummy, doesn’t make you want to scream from the top of the mountains, what’s the point. And more importantly, where is the love?”
“Perfection? What does that mean? Having desirable qualities. Who gets to decide what is desirable? Not me, and not you and not anyone on this planet. So honey, how could you possibly say you’re not perfect, when the word itself has no one meaning. It could just as simply mean that we are perfection to someone, yourself counted.”
“Your heart feels heavy, you sweat like crazy, your muscles constrict, your brain make incoherent thoughts, you’re left mumbling like a fool and some how those are signs of being in love? Must be ironic, such a blissful emotion puts the human body in havoc.“
‘Finality, it’s a strange concept, we constantly try to not reach finality, when in actuality we claim all things are temporary, meaning everything has its end. A time will come, when finality will reach me. When finality will reach my emotions, my relationships, my ties to anything material. Me, who I am and who I was, may just become a memory , but someday that will reach it’s finality too. I hope to make peace with it and greet it as a friend when it approaches .How? Well it’s simple enough, enjoy my life and make peace with it as well.”
I don’t know why I felt compelled to write them, but I did. Here there are out in the open for other’s to read.