Layla

by Colleen Hoover

supermodel’s, but she was never comfortable with herself. It became one of the things that irritated me about her because no matter how beautiful she was, her insecurity was the loudest thing about her.

I’ve always wanted someone I could instantly click with and then just fucking drown in.

Concern might be the only difference between liking someone and loving someone.

Falling in love with her was weightless, like air was breezing through my bones. Falling out of love is fucking heavy, like my lungs are carved from iron.

I don’t want to see her upset, but the selfish part of me would rather see her upset than not see her at all.