It is difficult to heave through lungs that are heavy and being held down by the words I can never find the courage to speak to you. I want so badly to scream out my burdens that you never cared to hear. You avoided them, causing my hands to shake and head to pound. I was weak compared to the control you had over me. When I spoke out to you, I was immediately filled with regret. Throat burning like I'd just downed six shots of *****, wishing I actually had instead of saying what would never matter to you, or even cross your mind even once when you left me. You were so good at lying and making me feel as though I was delusional, seeing things that never occurred. But now I know that you were a liar and I was just vulnerable. Now I realize that I don't need your so called "love". I don't need your lies to feel good, I only need myself and that's good enough for me.

You are a star burning brightly in the sky. You are among millions, slowly burning until your end. But you are not wasting time. People will look up occasionally, pointing you out from the rest, and they will think, "wow, what a beautiful sight." But soon, you will be forgotten by them. And that's perfectly fine. Because soon, someone else will see you, and again begins the fascination of your beauty.
You'll always be someone's shing star.
Do not ever stop shining.

I confused the sound of my heart beating trying to warn me that there's so much more to life, with the sound of thunder in my head, booming that he is all I need.

You treated me almost as though I was a book. You saw me, your eyes gleaming with curiosity and interest. You claimed me as yours, and opened me up. You memorized everything about me, just like you would your favorite book, scanning and remembeing the look of the outside, the artwork and the specific details. Then you read every part of me, the chapters of my life and every story in-between. The good, and the not so good. You analyzed everything, even reading between the lines. You fell in love with me the way you do your favorite book. But soon you got to the end, filled with disappointment that it was over. You'd hoped for a happy ending, just like your favorite book. But that's not what you got. Instead, you got an emotional, heart wrenching conclusion. But somehow, I was still your favorite.
And although you are moving on to your next book, you have engraved your name into the last page of your favorite book, claiming it to be yours forever.
And even though you may never touch that book, or me, ever again, we will always be yours. And your name will remain with us for eternity.

Your entire existence is a storm.
You don't just walk into a room casually,
No, your every footstep thunders, I can distinctly tell yours apart from others as you carry yourself with the most confident stride.
When you speak, its like you're starting a spark in me, a wild fire that seems to only be caused by the most delicate strand of powerful lightning.
A day with out your presence is discomforting, its like that saying "rain on my parade."
I need you.

I need you to the point where my stomach aches thinking of being anywhere, any day without you. I need you in the simplest ways. I need you when you're telling a joke and you can't help but laugh or smile at the thought of what you're going to say. I need you when you talk about something that starts a fire in you, and you become passionate and defensive about. I need you at 2 a.m. when your deepest fears come out and you just need someone to hold you and tell you that they will never get the best of you. I just need you, all of you. Every kiss, smile, flaw, and promise that you have. I need it all. I don't need you to do anything for me, your existence is enough to fulfill all of my wishes.

When he tells you he loves you and that you mean the world to him, dont believe him. Tell him that cliche phrase "actions speak louder than words." Because in all reality, it's the truth. He needs to prove it. He needs to show you just how much you mean to him. Whether it's driving to your house at 2 a.m. to hug you and tell you he was thinking about you, or even just a late night phone call. If he doesn't kiss you and tell you that his stomach burns with passion and he needs more, or even just simply pull you closer, kissing you more, he doesn't love you. He shouldn't get tired of your touch. If he can't sit in a room with you in pajamas and your hair up, with no make up on, just watching a movie or discussing life, he doesn't love you. He needs to be able to show his feelings without having to feel you physically. If he can't look at you and smile because you're smiling, he doesn't love you. He should adore every last piece of you and not want anything else. He needs to portray his love to you in more than one way, and you shouldn't settle for any less than that.