Did I Crossed The Line?

-"Gardening with the Son I Will Never Have", Ocean Vuong, Burnings

No, I can never fall in love with you again cause I never fell out of love

Even death has a heart

-Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Ilya Kaminsky, from "Musica Humana", Dancing in Odessa: Poems

Thank you to everyone who got me to 500 likes!

Edna St. Vincent Millay, from a letter featured in The Letters of Edna St. Vincent Millay

Why it's always I will kill for you love or I will die for you love but why not I will live for you my love

The most toughest part in any relation is give up,giving up on that person you once gave the world to. You stop giving explanation, you stop expecting things and even though you want to you just stop yourself from going near that person because you know doesn't matter how much you love them or how many times you forgive them, when you will leave because of the pain they cause you they will not even stop you. Their's some silence in the conversation and some words behind the silence which you both don't listen to anymore or don't tend to listen. Sometimes your heart wants to give them the explanation, wants to tell them each and every thing running through your mind but... But you don't cause you know it will not change a single thing so you backspace the whole paragraph and let them be in peace and that's my friend is the most broken part.

Isn't it strange how the idea of comfort for us is so different?Like that's my favourite place to sit, that's my favourite blanket where I feel cosy, or those are my favourite colour of bedsheets. Looking at them just makes me feel so soft.It can be a candle that makes your heart feel lighter when you blow it out.Or it can be looking at colourful flowers or simply staring at the moon.It can be as simple as singing your favourite song whenever you want or as hard as making a painting of your messy thoughts.It can be walking down the street alone in the evening or talking with your friends for hours.I guess it is unique how we humans find comfort in things, foods, songs, places, and sometimes in people too.

- Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena