In meeting you, I also met me, a little bit. It takes someone truly exceptional for that to happen.
We just met. We just met and it's not love at first sight. It's not love at first sight, but boy is this something. Something so so sweet.
Things I'd like to do with you, if the opportunity arose (that we haven't yet done):
- Walk around a museum or gallery, talking about what we see and absorbing the beauty of everything.
- Spend an afternoon in the park, reading and eating and drinking.
- Explore a distant place. Marvel in unison.
- Kiss, properly. Kiss and not stop.
- Go to a music festival, enjoy the music together, get a suntan and a little drunk and enjoy some music.
- Hold hands without it being a momentary thing.
Please please please make these things happen.
i can’t believe it. I actually told you, and I got these beautiful words
“Is it bad to say that I feel the same?”
We’re so disgustingly sweet to each other, how are we not dating yet?
Oh yeah, because we’re both terrified of how we feel
Thursday we adopted a dog together.
I have a happy little family now and I’ve never been happier.
~My Sun, Your Stars
When she asks me what I'm thinking about, the answer, though unspeakable, is always you. Or the idea of you. Or the promise of you. Or the feelings you've very purposely made me feel. Something about you, inevitably.
If I can't have you, I want it to stop. I want my stubborn mind to forget about you. I want my merciless, stupid heart to kick you out.
Because falling in love while already in love truly is the lover's worst nightmare; and the mourning of a love unrequited that disturbed a love requited is the loneliest of them all, its tears the most shameful.
People sometimes tell me I look distracted these days.
I make something up, but I want really want to grab them by the shoulders, and shake them as I say to their faces
of course I am, have you seen her, dammit, have you seen her?