“If I were a flower, you were the rain I was longing for.”

Please stay, I’d like to waste a little more time on you.

Don’t worry. You didn’t break me. I was already broken when we met.

The difference between yesterday and today is, today I know I don’t need you to survive.

He was my armor and I was his sword.

I love summer and sunny days but there’s a certain magic in rain. There’s a promise of new beginnings and growth that comes with rain.

I smile – even on my darkest days for you once said it melts your heart.

You ask what I’ve been doing all this time as if surviving wasn’t much of an effort.

When I stopped believing in love, the universe sent you to remind me that love, true love, does exist, even for me.

There are many reasons why we don’t tell people the truth. Maybe we’re not brave enough. Maybe we’re afraid to lose someone by telling the truth. Maybe all we want for the person we love is to be happy – with or without us.

My soul speaks a language, only you can understand.

I’ve loved you from the very first moment. But I still have to figure out how to love myself.

I was tired of begging people to stay when they wanted to leave.

He didn’t like drama and I was fucking Shakespeare.

And I wonder if I will ever find a place where I belong or if I am destined to wander.

They say diamonds are made under pressure, but what if I made of glass? and what if I’ll break?

This remains a love story. I just replaced your name with my own.

Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go.

What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.

We are asleep until we fall in Love!

Rain generate hope in the desert so as her touch in me.  

I love you, not just for now, but for always, and I dream of the day that you’ll take me in your arms again.

My life used to be full of everything. Now if you aren’t with me I haven’t a thing in the world.

I live for the nights that I can’t remember with the people that I won’t forget.

I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.