Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there.
I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together again and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken -- and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived.
It's always about love matters. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one girl, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well.
There's a moment in life where you can't recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can’t live without him. And even if she wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love her sneezes more than anyone else's kisses.
That's my love for you. I love you. Can you feel the love tonight?
