Natalia Vela

If you’re going to love someone who has been cheated on, do it wholeheartedly, do so with purity. Unpack your baggage in front of them. Let them in. Doing so makes this person feel not only like you trust them, but like they can feel comfortable trusting you and doing the same.

In a world without depression, I wouldn’t be a master of pretending. The simplest of things wouldn’t exhaust me. If I didn’t have depression I wouldn’t go through those weeks where I avoid human contact at all costs.

I think I’d much prefer it this way until I hold hands with someone who makes me feel like the stars tangled themselves between our fingers.

I wouldn’t mind it, being in a room alone with you, getting to know you, opening myself up. I just find myself intrigued by you. I’ve never been more curious. I have a feeling we speak the same language.

I’m done hanging on to your words, done listening to the songs you send me through the periods we go without speaking, done ever believing you actually ever felt something for me.

I waited, I wished, to see you turn back and say I choose you, be with me, but you didn’t. It’s the most physical kind of wanting and of aching I’ve ever known.

An introvert will always understand the importance of space and alone time because they are so self-sufficient. The introvert needs time alone to unwind, to recharge, to clear their minds and when you need the same they will understand and respect your wishes and never take offense.

You are the opposite of weak, the opposite of shame. You’re all human and all grace.

I know you always said “I love you” like a promise you couldn’t keep.

We don’t speak. Thumbs to jaws. Mouth to mouth. Heartbeat to heartbeat. In sync. There isn’t a sound in the room except the words to songs I don’t know reverberating through my core.

There’s something about you that is so intriguing. There’s something about you that makes me feel at ease.

Love isn’t a place that hurts. Love is supposed to be a home.