To Be Honest

by Nelle Starling

you deserve a shout it from the rooftops kind of love. a slow kind of love. a dance in the middle of the street under the stars kind of love, an i will catch you if you fall kind of love. a shoulder to cry on kind of love. a flowers just because kind of love. an if you hurt, i hurt, kind of love. a dream come true kind of love. an i’m sorry i was wrong kind of love. anything less is not worth your time. anything less does not deserve to hold your heart.

letting go means you loved yourself more than to keep holding on to something that hurt more than it didn’t. putting yourself first is never a failure

i break my own heart loving you, but no matter how hard i try to leave that part of me behind, i keep looking for you in the people i meet hoping that i’ll find you again someday.

it's true what they say— not all stories have a happy ending, but ours had a happy middle and beginning and that will always be enough because it means that we are a story worth remembering.

missing you is like a thunderstorm. it is loud, heavy and sometimes unexpected. everything around me is turning gray because i don't remember how to see in color. i look out the window and wonder when it will stop.

it’s a different kind of grief when the person you miss is still alive. when they are just a phone call away. when you can still text them in the morning and before you go to sleep at night. when you can drive 15 minutes to your favorite coffee shop and meet at the park bench for lunch. isn’t it torture? this choice to keep missing them and holding on to hope that maybe they miss you, too.