Love is born with the pleasure of looking at each other,
It is fed with the necessity of seeing each other,
And is concluded with the impossibility of separation.
sumtymz itz harder 2 say ''no"
wen i really mean yes
sumtyms itz harder to close eyes
wen i really want to c. ..
but d hardest moment is to let go sumone
wen i really want him to stay.. .. : (
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
