I love you. I hate you. I like you. I hate you. I love you. I think you’re stupid. I think you’re a loser. I think you’re wonderful. I want to be with you. I don’t want to be with you. I would never date you. I hate you. I love you…..I think the madness started the moment we met and you shook my hand. Did you have a disease or something?
I know you. Inside and out, Sara. I know you, and I’ve accepted it all. Every bit of the crazy. And I love you anyway remember?
Fuck me,” I whispered, giving him permission, taking him into my flesh, a soft invitation to madness.
Sometimes there’s no cure for the crazy.” Dale sighed, stroking my hair. “I think we all just have to keep loving through it. Maybe that’s the cure.
He felt like sin but tasted like love so what's a clumsy girl to do but stumble in delicious crazy love.
Can someone decide to leave everything and move to a dreamland?Was it possible?if yes, how can one do it without being called crazy or a coward?
Isn't it interesting that in Acts 11, at the end of verse 26, it says, The disciples were called Christians first at Antioch. What I find interesting is the simple thought that the Christians didn't name themselves. But rather, they were called (or named) Christians by those watching their lives. I wonder if it would be the same today. Could someone look at your life or look at my life and name me a Christian? A humbling thought for sure.
My mind is being consumed by you.My body is longing for you. Just one touch or a kiss, And I shall be satiated for a thousand years.
God is the only being who is good, and the standards are set by Him. Because God hates sin, He has to punish those guilty of sin. Maybe that's not an appealing standard. But to put it bluntly, when you get your own universe, you can make your own standards.
Because of that, he didn't know how to love someone who actually loved him. He had learned a twisted, tormented kind of love filled with pain and exploitation.
She averted his eyes, but not before he recognized the pain in them, a tormented and languished gaze, a stare preserved for people who were able to love deeply enough that they could be destroyed by it. For a moment, he knew that gaze intimately, remembering it from a time long gone. The ache of a shattered belief once known. He knew that feeling.
She averted his eyes, but not before he recognized the pain in them, a tormented and languished gaze, a stare preserved for people who were able to love deeply enough that they could be destroyed by it.
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins.My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth.Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school.She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita.
See? That’s it,” he said, waving his hand. “That’s part of what makes us so great, Luce. I’m crazy. You’re crazy. Together, we make our own brand of crazy.
I love you in my very own way.Like a stone loves the mosses around itLike a sea loves the pebbles in itLike a coincidence...Taking you as the way you are,With all the bruises, scars and broken parts all around you and your heart.I love you in my very own wayBy throwing the stone, the mosses, the sea and the pebbles to your headLike i want to kill you.Just because of envying the love That my heart spend on you.
Every morning when I wake up, I kiss her forehead as symbol of gratitude and appreciation and she repays me back with a lovely smile.
Sweat dripped down his chest. She never thought she could envy a piece of fabric, until she saw the T-shirt kissing his skin the way she wanted to.
The batshit kind of love that makes no sense at all… and at the same time… all the sense in the world… That is us… You and me, a “WE.
Say it aloud! Let everyone hear... I want a crazy lover who isn't afraid of shouting my name from rooftops, or in busy streets, or during an argument. I want a crazy love where freedom sparks in, two bodies and souls are sewed together, and there is nothing artificial nor any kind of societal pressure. Is it hard to search or too much to ask for?
The sun glowed behind the monotonous, gray January sky, a tease of light through the heavy hazy. Noah gazed out the window. He hated when the sun shined against the overcast sky creating a white, blinding glare while the ball of yellow remained hidden, a tantalizing possibility without a promise. Maybe it would poke through; maybe it wouldn't. That type of sun was a capricious as a woman.
Looking at that pain in her eyes, he felt a closeness with her that he had never experienced before. Like they shared something powerful and unspoken, something so deep and devastating, it bonded them together. He knew then, that if she didn't forgive him, he would never survive.He was nothing without her.
We yearn for a stranger to poke around in our heart. Such an irrational thing it is. Flutter once and lunacy behold.