I loved you, but then you broke my heart. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive you for that.
Lying in bed last night she tearfully asks me, “If I hadn’t told you I loved you, would you have still slept with Tasha?”
This morning I think that if it hadn’t been so damn good, I might feel guiltier.
I looked down at the last sentence I had written on the damage report. “In retrospect, breaking up with her while driving wasn’t exactly the best idea.”
Our eyes catch. My heart fights to get away.
There’s is nothing more beautiful than the words that escape a person’s mouth when they are in a state of love. Destroy that love, and their mouths will be silenced for eternity.
The boy altered the course of a river and petted a dragon and built a house of rubies as these were the only three wishes of his beloved. The girl still chose another guy over him because she had a fourth wish of breaking someone’s heart.
On a fine August day love grew between them.
On a fine November day, love was lost and they became each other’s nobody.
I said that you should leave LA because it’s what you want to do. What I meant is: I love you more than I love having you.
Some people suggested that I move to another town. But there’s a strange comfort in going alone all the places we used to go together: it proves you’re not necessary for this world and this life to exist.
When she thought about him, The Great Thing That Never Was, she could observe herself dissolving into a completely unpredictable mass of emotions and raw nerves. If she saw him again, would she say, “Fuck you,” or ignore him completely, or throw her arms around his neck?