Each person feels pain in his own way, each has his own scars.
What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for and to do it so unconsciously.
No matter how much suffering you went through, you never wanted to let go of those memories.
Now I'd rather be infected with love for the tiniest sliver of a second than live a hundred years smothered by a lie.
Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.
When first love ends, most people eventually know there will be more to come. They are not through with love. Love is not through with them. It will never be the same as the first, but it will be better in different ways.
Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone.
You like someone who can’t like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot.