Yasothaa > Recent Status Updates

But I'm also feeling all that I have in my life, which includes what I have lost, as well as the great unknown of what life might still bring me. And it's all too much.

I remember watching it all and getting that tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.

How else to explain those lyrics? I'm not choosing. But I'm running out of fight.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude to be friends with someone who often seemed to understand me better than I understood myself.

You definitely dressed sexier that's different. But the you who you are tonight is the same you I was in love with yesterday, the same you I'll be in love with tomorrow. I love that you're fragile and tough, quiet and kick-ass. Hell, you're one of the punkest girls I know, no matter who you listen to or what you wear.

If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?

we still had our problems, but being overly polite with each other wasn't one of them.

Wasn’t expecting a story between heaven and earth.

Kiss him and make love to him, and consider yourself lucky for having met him, for he's the kind of man who'l prove you right.

Long-term relationships-the ones that matter—are al about weathering the peaks and the val eys. And you are stil thinking long-term, right?"

"He'l forgive you, though. You know that, right? He might be angry and you might have hurt his feelings, but he's a good man." She smiled. "Besides, every couple needs to argue now and then. Just to prove that the relationship is strong enough to survive it.*

Be careful what you wish for.

"A good man is hard to find," she said wistful y. "Not everyone is as lucky as you are."

it was hard to fathom that he stil wanted to spend an evening with her. And more important, that she wanted to spend an evening with him. Deep in her heart, she wasn't sure she deserved to be happy, nor did she believe that she was worthy of someone who seemed... normal.

She was attracted to him more than she wanted to admit, and as she stepped out of the shower she knew she had to be careful. He was the kind of man she knew she could fal for, and the notion frightened her. She wasn't ready for that. Not yet, anyway,

"But right now, I'm having plenty of fun living vicariously through you since my love life is pretty much nonexistent. A girl needs to be able to dream, you know?"

That no matter what she told him, he would support her. That he would guard her secrets and never use what he knew to hurt her.

He wished she would trust him with the details of her past, not because he was under the il usion that he could somehow rescue her or felt that she even needed to be rescued, but because giving voice to the truth of her past meant opening the door to the future. It meant they would be able to have a real conversation.

"Is your teacher nice?" "She's real y nice. She's kind of like my dad. She doesn't yel or anything." *Your dad doesn't yel 7" "No," he said with great conviction
"What does he do when he gets mad?" "He doesn't get mad."

"Because i don't want you to think that i can't talk about anything else. That al I do is live in the past.*

I just went ahead and did it because it was the right thing to do. Because I learned that it's okay to accept some help every now and then."

So people lie by omission all the time. People wil tel you most of the story... and I've learned that the part they neglect to tel you is often the most important part. People hide the truth because they're afraid.*

Trust me on this: no one is better off alone.

Because in the end, and no matter how hard it is acceptance helps people move on with the rest of their lives. But sometimes...

That night, he waited for the wave of self-reproach and regret to come, but strangely, it didn't. Nor did it feel wrong. Instead, it felt... okay. Not affirming, not exhilarating, but okay, and he somehow knew it meant he was final y beginning to heal.

I thought maybe everyone's life had an equal balance of good and bad and the only difference was that the good and bad luck was dispersed to each person differently at different points in their lives. I had hope that all my bad luck had been dispersed early on in my life and that things would only get easier.

His words are slow and precise this time. Everything about him makes me want to trust what he's saying. but everything about every single male from my past tells me never to trust anyone with a dick.

You hold a fucking door open for a girl, she automatically thinks you're a gentleman. She thinks you're the type of guy who would treat his mother like a queen. Girls see guys with manners and think there's no way they could be dangerous.

I read once that the difference between an extrovert and an introvert isn't how you act in a group setting.
It's whether or not those group settings give you fuel or drain you.

I began to wonder, if humans are so often disappointing and so rarely successful at love, what can we do to ensure outs is a love that will stand the test of the time?