The damage was permanent there would always be scars. But even the angriest scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written on the skin at all and the only thing that remained was the memory of how painful it had been.

NO. No no no. I dont want to screw you. I just love you. When did who you want to screw become the whole game Since when is the person you want to screw the only person you get to love Its so stupid Tiny I mean Jesus who even gives a fuck about sex People act like its the most important thing humans do but come on. How can our sentient fucking lives revolve around something slugs can do. I mean who you want to screw and whether you screw them Those are important questions I guess. But theyre not that important. You know whats important Who would you die for Who do you wake up at five forty-five in the morning for even though you dont even know why he needs you Whose drunken nose would you pick

Throw your dreams into space like a kite and you do not know what it will bring back a new life a new friend a new love a new country.

My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry to get my work done and try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return.

I belong to my beloved and my beloved is mine.

You only need one man to love you. But him to love you free like a wildfire crazy like the moon always like tomorrow sudden like an inhale and overcoming like the tides. Only one man and all of this.

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too was a gift.

In real life love has to be possible. Even if it is not returned right away love can only survive when the hope exists that you will be able to win over the person you desire.

Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real.

Anxiety is loves greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him but you know he will strangle you with his panic.