"She holds her hair up with only two chopsticks and a bobby pin.
Think Atlas. Think shoulders.
When your sadness starts to feast,
she carries the light down from the
mountain and hands it to you,
tells you to set it on fire.
Think Prometheus. Think savior.
On Sunday, she steps out of the shower
and you don’t think you’ve ever seen
anything more beautiful than
the way she walks towards you
with a towel on her head,
water clinging to her like there is
nowhere else it would rather be.
Think Aphrodite. Think sea foam.
You love her like mythology.
You love her like the impossible stories of Gods and monsters.
When she sings, think fairies.
Think mermaids. Think hymns.
She is the face of the river that
Narcissus fell in love with,
confusing hers for his own.
She is Medusa’s fury,
You are kissing her in a crowded
restaurant and it feels like praying.
You are watching her instead of the
and you don’t even notice."
"At some point you will realize that you have done too much for someone or something; that the only next possible step is to stop. Leave them alone. Walk away. It’s not like you’re giving up, and it’s not like you shouldn’t try. It’s just that you have to draw the line between determination and desperation. What is truly yours will eventually be yours, and what is not, no matter how hard you try, will never be."
Some lovers were never lovers, they were only nicotine laced toxic. A former smoker may long for the feeling of a cigarette between his lips every now and then. Does this mean he is in love with cigarettes? No. This is not love. There’s a difference between love and unhealthy addictions. Love does not kill you. Love does not darken the color of your internal organs. Love does not make it hard to breathe.
Remember, this when you crave to hear the voice of someone who once suffocated your lively heart; there is a difference between love and nicotine."