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| It always fascinated me how people go from loving you madly to nothing at all, nothing. It hurts so much. When I feel someone is going to leave me, I have a tendency to break up first before I get to hear the whole thing. Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that its over, that I’ll never see him again like this… well yes, I’ll bump into him, we’ll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we’ll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. There’s a moment in life where you can’t recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can’t live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else’s kisses.
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It is easy to forget how perfectly life works out. When you are down, you believe that things never work in your favor. But if you look back, you see that, in many cases, things happened exactly the way they needed to.
If you were a flower, I'd be your bee.
If you were a fish, I’d be your sea.
If you were just you, I’d be just me.
And together, forever, we’d live in a dream.
Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think,
I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside
remembering all the times you’ve felt that way
I’ll tell you the truth so close to your lips it’ll taste like a lie.
There’s a tongue in my mouth. It matters. This fucking matters.
The only thing that works is the truth and you are the hardest truth to tell.
It’s alright to get caught stealing back what you’ve lost.
My heart is beating too fast, but I’m not scared.
My chest is cracking open, but not in a painful way. I’m speechless, and I love it.
Stop leaving and you will arrive. Stop searching and you will see.
Stop running away and you will be found.
Taking one’s chances is like taking a bath, because sometimes you end up feeling warm and comfortable, and sometimes there is something terrible lurking around that you cannot see until it is too late you can do nothing but scream and cling to a plastic duck.
See me down so you get down
No, you’ve got me all wrong
I just want to kiss your lips
And you kiss back
Is that too much to ask?
What do I know about love? Not much— that’s the safe answer. Even when I think I have a grasp on it, something comes along to make me realize I don’t know anything at all. It’s just a concept to me. It’s the thing that all the songs are written about, the thing that makes smart people act stupidly. If I can make love a concept, it makes me a better observer. And it also leaves a place inside of me hollow. Sometimes I can actually feel it. To reach down inside that part— I wonder how it would feel, to touch a void. That nameless empty.
I tried to read between the lines
I tried to look in your eyes
I want a simple explanation
For what I’m feeling inside
I gotta find a way out
Maybe there’s a way out
Hold your head high, heavy heart.
So take a chance and make it big,
‘cause it’s the last you’ll ever get.
If we don’t take it, when will we make it?
Don’t worry, you may think you’ll ”never” get over it
but you also thought it would last “forever”.
And I can feel your eyes on these words as I write each one. And I know you read it. And it's the tips of your fingers that pushes back on each key. And your hand on the mouse. And your back in that chair. And I just want you to know, that I know.
And so she she screams to her past
but I used to be someone better back then
she used to be someone better back then
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|  At first I was angry because you had fallen in love with someone else. But you seem so happy now. I didn't even know you were sad.  We get bored with the routine and crave beauty and excitement. Fire is beautiful and we know that if we get too close it will kill us But what does that matter? It is better to be happy for a moment and be burned up with beauty Than to live a long time and be bored all the while.
You know what they say You can’t have it so you want it back I’m way past that. Believe me. If you could be in my life like you’ve been on my mind It’d be so easy.  Day one, day one. Start over again Step one, step one. I’m barely making sense. For now I’m faking it till I’m pseudo-making it. From scratch, begin again But this time I as I and not as we.  For fear you will be alone
You do so many things
That aren’t you at all.
Love isn’t something you feel, it’s something you do.
And if the person you’re with doesn’t want it,
you know, do yourself a favor and save it for someone who does.  I miss you sitting next to me. I miss you falling asleep. I miss carrying you to bed.
I miss looking at the ceiling and listening to you breathing.
I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. 
You can never replace anyone because everyone is made up of such beautiful specific details.
Do they live unhappily ever after?
Of course.
Do they undo their mistakes ever?
Never.
It turned out he wasn’t in love with me like I thought. What I’m trying to say is, I understand feeling as small and insignificant as humanly possible and how it can ache in places you didn’t know you had inside you. And it doesn’t matter how many new haircuts you get, or gyms you join or glasses of champagne you drink with your girlfriends, you still go to bed every night going over every detail and wonder what you did wrong, or how you could’ve misunderstood and how in the hell for that brief moment you could think that you were that happy. And sometimes you can even convince yourself that he’ll see the light and show up at your door and after all that however long all that may be, you’ll go somewhere new and you’ll meet people who make you feel worthwhile again and it’ll be as though your soul will finally come back and all that fuzzy stuff, those years of your life that you wasted that will eventually begin to fade.  Well you’re not awake but you haven’t been sleeping And you hate god but you don’t believe in him And you’re not scared but you’ve still got your eyes closed.  People aren’t either wicked or noble.
They’re like chef’s salads, with good things and bad things chopped and mixed together in a vinaigrette of confusion and conflict.  I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to move on when the one you love walks away from you. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.  | | |
|  I’m scared that I’m going to end up alone. I’m scared that I’m always going to be somebody’s friend, or sister, or confidant, never quite somebody’s everything.  You think that you’ve been somewhere because you’ve felt some pain.
You think you’re somebody now you know the game.
Common now please, don't play with that flame.
Everybody's a nobody until they prove their strength. 
I hope that you are a disaster.
I’m sorry, but I do.
I hope that you are thunder and lightning.
I hope you are a forest fire,
I hope you kill the dead wood
and burn off the rotting leaves.
With the canopy gone, the sun can get in.
You need new growth.
Making love was never about you and me in a bed.
We made love whenever we held hands.  Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time? My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.  I'm getting answers to some questions that I never should have asked And it's getting old. It's decomposing fact Cause when I thought it couldn't get much worse, Life stabbed me in the back  I've had it up to here with your morbid ways You're happy being sad and you prove it every day  I’m all out of midnight phone calls and flowers sent to your door. I’m out of throwing letters off fire escapes and drawing a cathedral in the sand. I’m out of spray-painting your name on freeway overpasses. I’m low on cute names given between blankets and 9am. I’ve got no dramatic displays of public affection left. And now everyone else I ever love is going to think me boring. Because I used it all up on you. | | |
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Stop talking about love. Every asshole in the world says he loves somebody. It means nothing. It still doesn’t mean anything. What you feel only matters to you. It’s what you do to the people you say you love, that’s what matters. It’s the only thing that counts.
If I never knew you, I’d be safe but half as real.
I suddenly saw it all so clearly. I’d sold both of us short — by taking something most people never have, and throwing it away for something less. I’d been in such a rush to impress people who really didn’t matter. I’d torn apart the only ones who did.
I learned that no matter how much you care, some people will never understand. I’ve learned that it takes years to build up trust and it only takes suspicion, not proof to destroy it. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t compare yourself to others; they are more screwed up than you think. I’ve learned that the people you care for most in life are taken away from you too soon  You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.  No one deserves to be treated that way. So even if you love him with your entire heart, with every fiber of your being, with so much passion that it hurts to think about it, you need to forget what you want and remember what you deserve.  Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one else has to,
and when they lock the gates before you, find a way to climb them  | | |
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