Moonlight on my thoughts

I think that if I ever have kids and they are upset, I won’t tell them that people are starving in China or anything like that, because it wouldn’t change the fact that they were upset. And even if somebody else has it worse, that doesn’t change the fact that you have what you have.

Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.

She terrified him. He knew she didn’t need him. He knew at any moment she could take two steps in those big heels and be out the door. Incredibly independent, she always knew what she wanted. And knew exactly what she deserved. She was smart. Driven. Ambitious. Smarter than him, but he’ll never admit it. He hated that she always had to be right, even if she if she argued the sky was green and the grass was blue, he’d be obligated agree. She was pretty. Not like the magazines; she was naturally beautiful. He loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams or the way he wished he could trace every freckle on her apple shaped cheeks. He loved the way she looked in her glasses or how sophisticated she looked while chewing on a pen cap. The surprised expression she’d give him when he bought her favorite candy or how mad she’d look when he done something wrong. She was funny. She was loud. Even obnoxious at times. Her laugh wasn’t delicate, but enormous. Although it was overpowering, he loved hearing it. Because he knew he was doing something right. He loved the way she’d dance around the kitchen, the way she would sing the words to songs wrong, or the sound of her voice when she was tired. He loved when she used big words he couldn’t put into context or how she’d make him spend hours trying to figure out the right ones to express how much she meant to him. He was terrified by her and simply because he was falling madly in love with her.

We all have one foot in a fairytale, and the other in the abyss.

I cannot be known
better than you know me.