He wasn’t a good person, but I painted him to be and since I painted it, I believed it.

Some people you’re not meant to get over.

I remember things like dates down to minutes, what they smelled like, how they walked and how they tug their hands in their pockets. I twine myself in nostalgia of moments and not necessarily the people in them. I long for the idea of the past and occasionally forget the present. I find myself lost in memories, just looking to recreate the moment; forgetting the past is in the past and what we have is now.

Loving you was easy. Hating you was hard. Falling out was insane.

If I had amnesia, I know I would fall in love with you all over again.

Silence is only awkward if one cannot feel a connection with the other.