Read SOA And Is Now Sobbing A River

Until it was nothing more than a gray paper moon, hanging in the sky.

1Q84, Haruki Murakami, Book 3

“Loving someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it’s cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.”

— A man called Ove, Fredrick Bachman.

Just want to Live, Laugh, Love. Why is it so hard?!

𝑭𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

The feminine urge to love them with your whole heart even when you know it will never be reciprocated.

I pretend to be scared to cross the road just to hold your hand

Oh, things I do to be near you.

You said I make you blush with my words

You make my blush with just your existence

𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔

Little did I know that I was making the most common and the most painful mistake women have made all throughout the ages: to naïvely think that with their love they can change the men they love.

I regret many things in life. Loving you was one of them.