As a child I learned not to run with scissors. As an adult I learned not to run with other people’s words.
Our perceptions and lingering expectations of moments passed is only further validation that we exist primarily in our own constructs of reality, as opposed to a collective, mutual, experience.
I attribute a vivid imagination and a misconstrued sense of meaning for what we often coin as nostalgia.
The fear of hurting another might actually just be the fear of owning his regret.
It is not the similarities that create bonds, but the value in these connections that make all of the difference.
Betrayal is often confused with one’s inability to leave their own comfort zone.
Sometimes getting over the loss is worse than the loss itself.