Slowly I learn. I'm learning that being kind to myself is not being selfish. I'm learning that my body, my body is mine, and is not to be compared to any other.
Slowly I learn that if you ever want to fall in love, you fall not for words, but for actions. You fall for the way their presence makes you warm, not the way their compliments make you blush. Fall like petals, ever so slowly and with all of your grace, not too hard into a place still unknown.
If I had a thousand lives, I'd learn all the languages. But I only have one, so I will take pain to master the language that will bring us together, closer than ever, till the beginning of forever.
I thought love was portrayed wrong in the movies, because how could something that beautiful be so effortless. I thought it was supposed to be hard. That it meant I had to heal somebody for them to be able to love me. You showed me how wrong I could be.
Now as I reflect on the taste of your lips, I know I let true love slip through my finger tips.
I've had to learn that, not every heart comes filled with unrecognized rage. That not every kind word hides secrets full of hate. Love is more than fairy tales and pretty songs, beating hearts and simple thoughts. It's bigger than castles and kingdoms, demons and dreamers, roses, poems and old dusty speeches. It's a whisper in the wind, it's a hand holding tight when the worst possible news steals your breath and holds it like a vice. Love, forgets to remember and remembers to forgive when it does.
Silent and anonymous nights are turning loquacious once again. The broken heart was healing, learning to keep body and soul together. It seemed like blossoms were blooming again, the heart was relieved from pain. The eyes once flooded with rain are being charming again. Yes, her heart was mending and his love for her was building it up. Her soul once engulfed with pain, is nurturing once again. She started framing her dreams again, this time with the person who accepted her with all her scars.
I remember the day we met, both shy, but wanted to talk. Even when we tried, we didn't know what to say. Since the day our convesations grew, I became very fond of you, hoping you felt fond of me too.
Words are few between us, yet our hearts speak loud. A glance tells our story in the calm of shared dreams. Silence builds a bridge, every gentle touch reassures. We find peace in stillness in our quiet connection.
Our silence sings its tune, glances fill the gaps, every look tells a story. In quiet momments, care is felt, every shared breath speaks the language of tender hearts.
I see a world of wonder, in the soft glow of your eyes. Every glance holds a secret of hope and endless care. They reflect truth and passion, a mirror to my soul. Every look a promise of love that stays ever near.
To mend a broken heart, you have to break your heart in the process.
Love, like a flame, can flicker and fade; but it can also be reignited.
Like two rivers merging into one stream, their souls converge like an unending dream. The world fades away to mere background noise. In their arms, time finds its sacred place.
I hope when I meet love again, it will be introduced to me as love and not sadness mistaken for love nor just temporary happiness mistaken as romance. I hope that it will choose me without even trying to change myself according to its interest. I hope that I am exactly what it is looking for. And when it finds out that I am both a work-in-progress and damaged, I hope that it will still see me as someone good enough to stay with.
I wasn't out looking for you, but you came into my small world, like a soft flame sparking my dim light. Time passed and I felt myself thinking of you throughout my days, excited to hear your voice. You brought me out of a void I was feeling, a state of bitterness i had simmering iinside. Now the only thing simmering is my heart.
I know you're scared, nervous and afraid, but maybe this time it won't hurt, it'll just sting.
Falling in love is easy, staying in love is harder, letting go the hardest, and moving on, moving on feels impossible until you do.
I had told myself never again, but her oak brown eyes make it impossible to refrain. Alone at night, thoughts of her drive me insane. I know she thinks I might be the one she's been waiting for, early days still, but I'm starting to adore the open mouthed smile she gives me every time she lays her eyes on me. Still, I'm scared. Scared of the sadness that I may regain if I choose the wrong girl again.
Unplanned love may seem like fate, but it's up to us to make it great.
I keep hearing little thoughts, saying I have been here before. Full of the joy and happiness before it all came to an end filling me with a diseased sadness that poisoned my mind. How could this be any different?
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