I don’t pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me. Love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person. Love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of. Love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.

Falling for you wasn’t the plan, but when you held me in your arms, something told me this is where I need to be.

I think you’re the only person who gets me. When I’m with you, the world doesn’t feel like such a problem I can’t figure out.

You’re one of those people I’ll never forget. Because secretly, you were one of those people I would have kept.

I’m going to find a way to be happy, I’d love to be happy with you, thats my dream. But if my dreams don’t come true and I can’t be happy with you, then I’ll find a way to be happy without you.

Yeah, but that’s just it. I mean, the butterflies never seem to accompany the right people, you know? The nice guys who are right for you, they never make your stomach queasy.

We become attached to what’s familiar, and sometimes we hold onto things that are safe and predictable, even if they are bad for us.

There’s a big difference between: Who we love, who we settle for and who we’re meant for.