He was the sort of guy who took a lot without giving her anything back The more he hurt her the more desperately she loved him. Life's strange. Sometimes things happen almost as if we're punishing ourselves for some fault that we can't really identify.

It was a relationship with occasional moments of beauty, but one that had never found it's balance.

so if you love him, why keep him waiting for 13 years? Because I was afraid. Afraid of not being worthy, afraid of not knowing how to love him, afraid of waking up one day and not loving him anymore.

On calm days, you always think you've conquered them. You think that in the end you've finally done them in. That you've got rid of them for good, now and forever. But that seldom happens. Most of the time, the demons are still there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. Tirelessly waiting for the moment when our guard drops. And when love goes away.

We are young, but We already know that in life's great game those who are most unhappy are those who haven't taken the risk to be happy. And I don't want to be one of those

You'll stop hurting when you stop hoping.

Even when apologising, this guy turns on the charm. And the worst thing is that it works. She had reached a point in her life where she no longer expected anything from men, though that didn't stop her from falling in love with them.

It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. What scares you, is not your weaknesses, but your strengths.

When you decide to hit rock bottom, humiliation is part of the deal.

She needs someone who will be everything for her: her friend, her boyfriend, her confidant, her lover and sometimes even her enemy.

Your soulmate can also be your downfall.

He understood then that neither time nor distance had lessened his love for her. But was love that made him ache with suffering truly worth fighting for?

Now he could say for sure that he'd never known a feeling stronger than that of being at one with another person - that rare feeling of not being alone anymore.

In years past, to keep their men close, women would wear a ring and bear children. It doesn't work like that today. Nowadays, how do we hold on to those we love? I've no idea.

A miserable collection of little secrets, that's all any of us is.

Love is always dangerous. To love is to hope you'll win it all while running the risk that you could lose it all. And sometimes it's also about accepting that there's a risk that you'll love more than you are loved.