You are sherbet ice cream on a hot day.

You're in my head, but I'd much prefer you in my bed.

Whenever I try to get over you by getting with someone new, I always find myself wishing they were you.

I'd be ok without you, I could survive.
But who wants to be just "ok."

My favorite memory wasn’t when we were kissing, or cuddling, or ******* so hard, I thought we might break. Those moments were great, but nothing like this. We were sitting up on a diving board. My legs were dangling over the edge, you were sitting behind me, holding me close. You rested your chin on my shoulder, and we looked quietly at the city lights in front of us. You slowly ran your hands through my hair. Then you kissed me softly on the cheek. I've never felt so many butterflies for you as I did in that moment.

Do you ever just lay in bed at night, and wonder what you're doing wrong.

I kinda hope one day you wake up and realize I was always there for you.

All I can tell you Is love HURTS.

You can't have another piece of me.
You've taken too many already.

You know you love someone when you wish you would have met them sooner.

I'm not sure if you mean the things you say, or you're just using me for inspiration because you have nothing else to write about.
Never love a writer.
You will never know what their true feelings are.
Maybe they want to talk to you, or maybe their just using you for their next story.

I want you from your heart to your soul and everything in between.

I cry.  
I cry a lot.
I tell people I don’t, but that’s a lie.
I cry in the shower.  I cry in my bed at three o’clock in the morning.  I cry behind a locked door, covering my face, in a silent house.