Bittersweet Love Quotes

“Absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder if there's nothing there to begin with.”
― Mariana Zapata, Wait for It

“And then there's Ireneo. I know I'll probably never see him again, but I'm not sad. The mark he left on me, the way he passed through me, that cannot be erased. Maybe this is what "love is forever" means: it's not timeless, but it leaves a mark so deep that it accompanies us all our life.”
― Assia Petricelli, Per sempre

“He grabbed hold of Hanna's arms and pulled her inside the lift with him. Once again, the doors began to close, but Hanna stepped her foot back in its way.
Asa was still holding on to her and she looked into his eyes sadly, shaking her head.
'Asa, I can't. I can't come with you. Grey-
'Grey won't be an issue,' said Asa defiantly.
'We'll be away from here! And we'll look out for each other, like we always have. Hanna, please - don't do this.'
Hanna reached up and placed her arms around his neck, hugging him. It took him a few moments to realise she had. He did not get the chance to hug her back properly.”
― H. J. Redshaw, Mark Four Hundred

“Asa really wanted her close by his own side, like she always was, giving him the strength to do what he needed to do ... what he was about to do.”
― H. J. Redshaw, Mark Four Hundred

“Alexa emits a sad but fond chuckle and once again reaches over to gently slip her hand into mine,
When she lets go, I can't help but wish she didn't.”
― Carli J. Corson, It's a Love/Skate Relationship

“Your leaving carried its own light.”
― Mira Hadlow, Nearly: Poems

“”Do you think she’ll like your new tattoos?
Instinctively, I touched the inside of my forearm where one of the sleeves of ink began. What had started as an act of defiance had metamorphosed into armor with every new design. Little black songbirds flew up my skin, the arc of a wing shading the scar beneath. Woodland details filled in the gaps between the varied species of birds and a curl of honeycomb rounding my left biceps.
The latter had been an impulse, really. A nostalgic dig of the knife that suddenly felt far too exposing.”
― Ruth McKell, Honey in Her Veins