love-hurts

Maybe that__ why I was so afraid of Sasha__ love. With him comes the remembering part that I was so good at forgetting.~Piper - 'Breathe Me

And this, my friends, is how love f*cks up your life.

I wish I knew how to get you back. And apparently fate won't let me give up"From Central Park Song: a Screenplay

He__ not yet realized that by giving away nothing but barefaced lies he__ come to wither and rot inside. But she__ still looking for him into the void of his cold heart.

Everything around her was in a fog; the intense light that always shone in his aqua blue eyes was the only thing in focus, but it was suddenly unknown... different... almost embarrassing.

If she had looked into his eyes at that very moment she would have seen the inferno that she had thrown him into.

He could no longer pretend not to have been brought to his knees by her blows, and he could no longer avoid the sentiments that his heart forced him to feel.

You__e driving me crazy, Blaire. Insane, baby. Fucking insane,

I think now we are simply strangers with some memories.

By then there had been other men. She'd flung herself at other closed windows. The windows never broke, but her heart, at the end, was in splinters.

The closer he was the less confident I was.

Drinking the mystery punch that will always get her

It is very difficult to develop a proper sense of self-esteem in a dysfunctional family. Having very little self-worth, looking at one__ own character defects becomes so overwhelming there is no room for inward focus. People so afflicted think: __ need to keep you from knowing me. I have already rejected me, but if you knew how flawed I am, you would also reject me_and since this is all I have, I could not stand any more rejection. I am not worthy of someone understanding me so you will not get the chance...so I must judge, reject, attack, and/or find fault with you. I don__ accept me so how can I accept you?

A tenacious grip on our own ideals, irrespective of hurdles, would propel us towards self-actualization!

I chase goals, not girls.

People say that scars are the sign of victory; the winning marks against what broke them. But how about the wound that never heals? What would that make you? A winner, a loser, a survivor?

Broken hearts show us we__e grown out of one stage, by ripping us wide open for the next.We__e forced to choose what we do with all that pain: turn it against ourselves, aim it at someone else, or tap all that power and reach higher.

Like most cities, London could be a lonely place...