After one has loved, does it mean that we must know the truth and meaning of the word? After one has loved and lost, can one ever really love again? Does love burn out or die? Do we grow out of it? Is it an option? Can we avoid it? Can we abandon it? Can we love or hate love itself? Does it grow over time, or just appear inside our hearts? Is it even in our hearts? Or maybe in our minds?

Questions race through my mind like blood through my veins. Everything I do reflects back to you. Every breath is your's and only your's. I only wish you knew.. I wish you felt the same.. My first, and only love.. I wished for you every night. You were my shooting star. My 11:11. This pain is so persistant. The hunger pangs, migranes, and bruises are nothing compared to the aching in my heart. "My heart always speaks before I know what it will say." Now meeting you for the second time, I can't believe what I've lost. My heart is tearing. My soul just split down the center.
"All you did was get me through, I owe every breath to you."
"Because I feel it all fading and paling, and I'm begging to drag you down with me, to kick the last nail in."
"Your face, it dances, and it haunts me. Your laughter's still ringing in my ears. I still find pieces of your presence here."
"Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command."
"I am scared as I can be, to where I can't breathe. I am lonely as I can be, lonely as I will let me be here alone with you."
"I thought I could love no more, one too many times before. Everytime I look up to the sky, I've got you on my mind"
"I'm not so naive. My sorry eyes can see the way you fight shy of almost everything."