dearoldlove: I know you miss me. So why can’t you just say you’re sorry?
dearoldlove: You hurt me. But when you came over and sat in my lap, I had a relapse. You were warm, I liked it.
Romance takes place in the middle distance. Romance is looking in at yourself...– The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood (source: helplesslyamazed)
Live your daily life in a way that you never lose yourself. When you are carried...– Thich Nhat Hanh (via lazyyogi)
dearoldlove: We bonded over music. Too bad I felt like background noise.
dearoldlove: I’ve met many men after you, many men far better than you, but they never seem to say my name quite like you did. They way you said it—I could hear myself in it.
Not a Matter of Deserve
dearoldlove: I’m still waiting for an explanation. I deserve one. *So why did you leave? and why didn’t you tell me? You still don’t know how much that hurt, do you? and the worst part is I still want to be with you…. maybe I love you. You never gave me the chance to see it*
dearoldlove: I blame the end of our relationship on us never watching Moulin Rouge together.
Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.– Simone Weil (via dirkhanson)
dearoldlove: I can’t shake the memory of your hands on my hips and your breath on my cheek.