If all that is good dies young,
what we are is never meant to grow old. Fleeting can still last forever.

Just be what you are, love.
A star.
Hang in there.
Your sun will come soon.

I will dance with you, though I am no dancer.
I will sing to you, though I am no singer.
I will write for you, though I am no poet.
All because I am yours.

I still want you to be happy.
Even if it's not with me.
But, I must be honest, when I first said those words
I didn't know the pain they'd bring.

The sun comes up, a new year will begin. Still I hope one day the start and the end will be spent the same. With you.

Here love sits with us, it rests,
smiling gently from the corner.
Never going anywhere.

I am an ocean. Something will always draw me to your shore.
Sure.
There are other beaches out there, but we fit together tidily.

You hold something deep in your eyes. They are kind I can dive in so every time that you cry I am drowning too.

Maybe sometimes you aren't meant to find the words, only to feel them.

Without you, I would be lost in my own world, because you are my whole world. Love, where would that leave me?

Lost.

You wrote it. You live it. It's beautiful. The one word poem that starts and ends with you.

I hope one day you love someone the way I love you.

Because I love you, I hope they stay.

Darling, we have a love that is made of dreams but the insomnia won't let me sleep. The demons won't let me be....

Save yourself from me.

The thing about silence is there's love there if you listen. Just me and you. A book or two. A simple afternoon. Words left unspoken and the quiet sharing truths.

You taught be how to fall in love, but now you're gone. You never told me how to stop.

The main symptom of seeing you is shortness of breath, but I cannot seem to keep the social distance.

I cannot paint, but if I could, I would simply set your face to canvas and show the the world the masterpiece you are.

It was sometime shortly after the beginning I realized I would love you long after the end.

Even if your head is a raincloud, your heart must be in the sky. Sometimes it can get messy, but love will get you high.

Muscles form their own memories, and this heart always remembers you.

For her, I wore my heart on my sleeve. On the shirt that she stole. Still I hope she finds comfort whenever she wears it.

Because in the end it is like the beginning. You are just a beautiful stranger, and I am praying we meet again.

Love sickness (ləv-sik nes):

n.

Of which you are both cause and cure

The space between the ribs is hollow. A heart beats so it must echo. Love, come listen closely, I think you'll hear your name.

It only takes a love that's blind to make a heart feel seen.

We are but dust and star stuff. Find what keeps you grounded. Remember to reach for the heavens above.

We must live many times and only truly love once. That's why my heart keeps finding you.

...And maybe we don’t have to call it anything. Maybe we can call it holding hands, sharing secrets, and three am texts. We could just keep watching movies but not really watching them. No, we don’t have to call it love, even though it can be. Even though I think it is. Even though I need it to be. I just know that I want you. Even if you don’t want to label it. Even if you are not ready to say what it means to me.

So now I am thankful that I can miss you. It reminds me that, for a time, I held you. For a time, we were real.

Another year. Another's here. More promise of much change. Still my only prayer remians, love. That we would stay the same.

It's 11:11. Darling, in each day, this is twice true. It is not the first time nor the time, I find myself wishing for you.

My two cents on our matter is I never want us to change. Here's a penny for your thoughts. Perhaps the other is lucky, and you feel the same.

Steal my heart. Be still my heart. Hopelessly in love. I just want her to be happy even if that happens without me.

If these walls could talk, they wouldn't have much to say now that you're gone.

Perhaps, in that space I felt so empty, I found all the room allowed me to grow.

I can hear your voice in the silence. Softly your words come through. My soul's radio wave carries your whisper as I make my way to you.

Sweetheart, our paradox is this:
surely loving you will be the death of me,
but the life I live without you…
I would rather not exist.

J.c.A