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Being in love is the single most profound understatement that could be. It’s perplexing having these disconcerting, foreign feelings shoved into your innermost being and not knowing what you’re to do. It’s lying awake at 2a.m. missing the pointless, late-night debates about how penguins deserve to fly or how guys shouldn’t be obligated to text the girl first. It’s realizing how much he looks like his brother, and how sweet he is to his parents and sister. it’s feeling almost lost when he’s not there. It’s realizing that you’re always sitting towards the direction that he’s in. It’s wanting to talk to him about things that can’t even be fathomed in your own mind. It’s the reluctancy to say the words “I love you”, because you’re actually consummating the worth that is going into it now. It’s daydreaming about unrealistic scenarios you yearn to have with him. It’s getting an almost sadistic sense of joy when you hear him telling other people that you’re the only one for him. It’s reveling in the embarrassment that comes whenever his voice cracks. It’s totally and completely, the beginning to a new unrequited end. 

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"How dangerous,” she thought, “to finally have something worth losing."

Source: blossomfully
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"It is after all," she said, "brave, to need somebody."

"It is brave, to willingly open your heart and to invite scrutiny of your soul. And it is brave to show darkness and trust him not to escape with all of your secrets."

"And it is brave to try," she whispered, "when growing up, all they teach you is how to stand alone. So I will let myself need him and I will allow my fingertips to learn the cracks in his ribs. Because even if it kills me I would rather feel daggers than to live in cotton softness.

"After all, what is life without a little death?"

"

- Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #63 (via blossomfully)
Source: blossomfully
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"Perhaps,” she said finally, “I was so consumed with the need to feel something, that I did not notice what I was feeling at all."

- Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #64 (via blossomfully)
Source: blossomfully
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"

The first time she said it, he was on the floor, looking for something.

"I love you."

It was quiet, as if a passing thought. But he froze, like it was the most important thing in the world.

"Say it again," he said, turning to look at her.

"I love you." She whispered.

And there was something about the way she sat there, quivering like a leaf, that made him want to sit down and hold her forever.

"I love you I love you I love you."

She was getting much too brave, and the words rolled off her tongue like they’d been waiting for a long time to be heard.

"I have been too afraid all my life." She said. "But I am tired now. Screw building walls and hiding emotions.

"I am fucking terrified, and perhaps I don’t know much. But I love you," she laughed. "I know that I love you."

"

- Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #55  (via blossomfully)

(via blossomfully)

Source: blossomfully
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tfiosmovienews:

Things to be found in John Green books.

(via -johngreen)

Source: tfiosmovienews