in-love

Perhaps fate brought us together,And the incidents in between made us close,Falling in love was a simple choice,But breaking my heart, that was yours.

Dear Matthew-There's one more thing I didn't get to tell you that night in my bedroom. Here it is: I love you. I'm in love with you. I have been for a long time. This might seem like a strange thing for me to say given the fact we aren't speaking to each other. But I've decided that it's possible to love someone for entirely selfless reasons, for all of their flaws and weaknesses, and still not succeed in having them love you back. It's sad perhaps, but not tragic, unless you dwell forever in the pursuit of their elusive affections.

Five seconds, and my body's humming. I go half-man, half-machine, and my thoughts go straight to touching her more, to how far I want to go, how far she might want to go, and damn, I start to hurt. No amount of music or hard work will fix this. My body's a beast. A beast that's been held back too long.

Now, I'm not going to deny that I was aware of your beauty. But the point is, this has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you, I began to realise that beauty was the least of your qualities. I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it. I didn't understand what was happening to me. And it was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn't matter to me. And it's not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I'll do anything you say.

Confidence is not posting endless selfies, or repeatedly protesting how happy or in love we are, it__ a subtle yet noticeable sheen that emanates from our being - our eyes, our words, our body language.

This last week has been a little hell for both of us simply because I didn't understand my own feelings. And because I can't understand them, I blame her for provoking in me feelings that make my world seem suddenly unsafe.

She was a coquette; he was sure she had a spirit of her own; but in her bright, sweet, superficial little visage there was no mockery, no irony. Before long it became obvious that she was much disposed towards conversation.

Are you in love? What makes your heart beat faster? What do you want people to think about when they hear your name.

It is difficult to love someone who loves you, but easy to hate someone who loves you, and love someone who hates you.

When the love-led man had ceased from his labours Bathsheba came and looked him in the face.'Gabriel, will you you stay on with me?' she said, smiling winningly, and not troubling to bring her lips quite together again at the end, because there was going to be another smile soon.'I will,' said Gabriel.And she smiled on him again.

We'll meet again, but you're a lifetime away, and I need you now.

I thought about how the past can become so small. An entire day, 24 separate, heavy hours, becomes the size of a tiny brown leaf falling from a tree. Before you know it, a whole year is just a pile of dead leaves on the ground. The year or so I__ spent in love with Chad was starting to feel so long ago, swept away by the wind. I knew that this year would soon feel far away too.

Loving her was heaven that turned to hell when she died.

Desires are what can most easily ruin us, lovely.

The young girl inspected her flounces and smoothed her ribbons again; and Winterbourne presently risked an observation upon the beauty of the view. He was ceasing to be embarrassed, for he had begun to perceive that she was not in the least embarrassed herself.

Voicemail #1: __i, Isabel Culpeper. I am lying in my bed, looking at the ceiling. I am mostly naked. I am thinking of _ your mother. Call me.__oicemail #2: The first minute and thirty seconds of ____e Gotta Get a Message to You_ by the Bee Gees. Voicemail #3: ____ bored. I need to be entertained. Sam is moping. I may kill him with his own guitar. It would give me something to do and also make him say something. Two birds with one stone! I find all these old expressions unnecessarily violent. Like, ring around the rosy. That__ about the plague, did you know? Of course you did. The plague is, like, your older cousin. Hey, does Sam talk to you? He says jack shit to me. God, I__ bored. Call me.__oicemail #4: __otel California_ by the Eagles, in its entirety, with every instance of the word California replaced with Minnesota. Voicemail #5: __i, this is Cole St. Clair. Want to know two true things? One, you__e never picking up this phone. Two, I__ never going to stop leaving long messages. It__ like therapy. Gotta talk to someone. Hey, you know what I figured out today? Victor__ dead. I figured it out yesterday, too. Every day I figure it out again. I don__ know what I__ doing here. I feel like there__ no one I can ___oicemail #6: __o, yeah, I__ sorry. That last message went a little pear-shaped. You like that expression? Sam said it the other day. Hey, try this theory on for size: I think he__ a dead British housewife reincarnated into a Beatle__ body. You know, I used to know this band that put on fake British accents for their shows. Boy, did they suck, aside from being assholes. I can__ remember their name now. I__ either getting senile or I__e done enough to my brain that stuff__ falling out. Not so fair of me to make this one-sided, is it? I__ always talking about myself in these things. So, how are you, Isabel Rosemary Culpeper? Smile lately? Hot Toddies. That was the name of the band. The Hot Toddies.__oicemail #20: __ wish you__ answer.

The brain becomes illogical, in the throes of new romance.

Fell in love first,Fell in love quickly__ike I was pushed.Fell in love next,Fell in love slowly__ike I was strolling.Falling in love now And feeling crazy.Thinking of closing my eyesAnd jumping.