Holly Riordan

You have gentle, tender sex as often as you have rough, animalistic sex.

You never thought you’d forget the ex that held your heart for so long, but now he’s barely a blip on your radar.

I cry over stupid shit.

We shouldn’t text them too much. We shouldn’t sleep with them too early. We shouldn’t come across as too eager. We’re trying to follow a specific set of dating rules, so even if we like someone, it’s impossible to let them know.

We can demolish the hatred in our hearts and replace it with hope, we have to. We can’t let the bitterness win.

When I’m alone in the shower, without social media to scroll through or friends to text, it gives me time to think — and time to think is dangerous.

You’re not heartless. You’re human. It’s natural for you to have feelings, and it’s dangerous for you to run from them.

You’re not unlovable because of what your parents put you through.

I can’t fall in love over a phone.

My beauty comes out the most when I’m happy. I look the most beautiful when I’m doing something I love.

I want someone who will happily sing along to the songs we hear, even if it’s the hundredth time he’s heard it that day.

Half of the time, I’m told that I should be happy without a boyfriend, and I know it’s the truth, but it’s hard to believe when the other half of the time I’m bombarded with commercials about happy couples, Instagram photos of #RelationshipGoals, and articles with tips for finding a boyfriend.