We are in love and meant to be together.
His loyalty, so fierce and unwavering, makes my eyes water and heart ache.
There are two kinds of sorry. There is the sorry imbued with regret. And a pure sorry. The kind that is merely asking for forgiveness, nothing more.
Where we belong is often where we least expect to find ourselves—a place that we may have willed ourselves to forget, but that the heart remembers forever.
I think to myself that when you’re in love, sometimes you have to swallow your pride, and sometimes you have to fight to keep your pride. It’s a balance. But when the relationship is right, you find that balance.
We are one of those couples i used to watch, thinking to myself that I’d never be on the inside of something so special. I remember reassuring myself that it probably looked nicer than it actually was, I am happy to be wrong about that.
I wish i could freeze this moment, somehow delay my final decision, and just hang here in the balance between two places, two worlds, two loves.
I remember that my mother once told me that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.
I learned that getting mad was easier than being sad.
There are two kinds of women–those who eat in a crisis and those who lose their appetite in a crisis.
Sometimes there are no happy endings, No matter what, I’ll be losing something, someone. But maybe that’s what it all comes down to.Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way.And maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.
Anger was something I could control. I could settle into an easy rhythm of blame and hate. Focus my energy on something other than the ache in my heart.
You can’t quantify love, and if you try, you can wind up focusing on misleading factors.
There is no grief like heartbreak.
There are no absolutes in relationships. You can’t take anything for granted. You can count on absolutely nothing but the unexpected. You only get in trouble when you start thinking that you’re some kind of exception to the rule.
When I meet someone I like being with more than I like being alone, I’ll marry her.
Love is seldom—almost never—an even proposition. Someone always loves more.
There is no better audience for someone in love than someone in love.
Love is sharing a life together.
How different this moment feels, for so many reasons. I tell myself that no two loves are identical – but that I don’t have to compare anymore.
