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“You know, there’s a big difference between not being able to live without someone and loving them.”
There is a big difference between not being able to live without someone and loving them.
In reality it seems like you have her trapped, and that’s why she won’t leave you: not because she loves you, but because you’ve made her feel that she can’t be without you.
I know the difference between love and being trapped, between love and being addicted.
“You’re broken, Hardin, and I can’t fix you.” His face falls at the realization of what he’s done to me, and to himself, and he stands in front of me with all emotion pulled out of him. His shoulders sink, and his eyes are no longer brilliant as he stares back at me, finally seeing a blank expression mirrored back at him. I have nothing left to say, he has nothing left to break inside of me or himself, and by the way the color has drained from his face, he’s finally realized it.
You love me when you shouldn’t, and I need you. I have always needed you and always will. When you left me just last week it nearly killed me, I was lost. So completely lost without you. I went on a date with someone last week. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I can’t stand to chance losing you again. My fingers tremble, and I nearly tear the flimsy paper trying to hold it still enough to read. I know you can do better than me. I’m not romantic, I won’t ever write you poetry or sing you a song. I’m not even kind. I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you again, but I can swear that I will love you
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Pain… such a simple word, but so packed with meaning.
Lately I’ve become very well acquainted with pain—the ache has become nearly unbearable.
Love is the single most important emotion one can hold. Whether it’s your love for God or your love for another, it’s the most powerful, overwhelming, incredible experience. The moment when you realize that you are capable of loving someone else more than yourself is quite possibly the most important moment in your life. It was for me, anyway. I love Hardin more than myself, more than anything.
He’s been my hero, my tormentor at times, but mostly my hero,
All I want is her and me, me and her: Tessa and the mess that is fucking Hardin.
No matter how forced the behavior is, he is trying, and in that I find solace, a steady certainty that even in the middle of the brewing storm, he will be my anchor.
Women do too much shit to impress men who can barely tell the difference.
“You’re everything to me,” I say.
