When I Was In School, I Started Writing Short Stories. Then, I Wrote Poetry. But What I Really Want To

I regret many things in life. Loving you was one of them.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, from “Prometheus Unbound”

Kalank (2019) 2:13:10

The feeling when they behave in the most childish way in front of you and no one else.

It's like they are opening their inner child to only you <3

THE SONG OF ACHILLES || Madeline Miller

“Loving someone is like moving into a house,” Sonja used to say. “At first you fall in love with all the new things, amazed every morning that all this belongs to you, as if fearing that someone would suddenly come rushing in through the door to explain that a terrible mistake had been made, you weren’t actually supposed to live in a wonderful place like this. Then over the years the walls become weathered, the wood splinters here and there, and you start to love that house not so much because of all its perfection, but rather for its imperfections. You get to know all the nooks and crannies. How to avoid getting the key caught in the lock when it’s cold outside. Which of the floorboards flex slightly when one steps on them or exactly how to open the wardrobe doors without them creaking. These are the little secrets that make it your home.”

— A man called Ove, Fredrick Bachman.

You are my favorite person Dumbass

I reread our texts. I cry to the words that made me laugh.

I hold onto to my crumbling self, as it drifts apart in your memories.

Mohabbat karne wale kam na honge,

Teri mehfil mein lekin hum na honge.

"It's just that I need to speak to someone.

Not someone. You"

—One Day