Heart Bones

by Colleen Hoover

Damaged people recognize other damaged people. It’s like a club you don’t want a membership to.

Me encantó ésta frase.🖤

“Because most of the time, the fun you have that leads to the pain is worth the pain.”

Maybe you don’t have to know a person’s history to realize who they are in the present.

True that.

I feel like a flower being taken out of the shadows and put into the sun. I’m blooming for the first time since I broke through the earth’s soil.

I like being kissed by someone who actually respects me.

Hearts don’t have bones. They can’t actually break.”

Right now, I just want to feel what I’ve always deserved to feel during sex—like my body is respected, and my touch has more than just a monetary value.

Simplemente aplausos👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

It becomes everything I’ve never experienced during sex. It becomes love.

I’ve never felt more appreciated than I feel right now. Not only appreciated, but savored. Respected. Wanted. Maybe even loved.

If there’s one thing I learned from Samson this summer, it’s that holding everything in accomplishes nothing. It just causes the truth to hurt even worse in the end.

I no longer want to be the version of myself who judged people before accepting them. I was projecting all the behaviors I resented.

I am still made of steel. Come at me, world. You can’t damage the impermeable.