Quotes About Emotions

There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether you're in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself.

Her vulnerability is open, but she's safe within it.

It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I've gotten it backward, maybe it's just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don't think that's it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn't happened to meet her.

Love is love. I have never fallen in love with a gender. I have fallen for individuals.

If I'd managed any of these ifs-- would I have been able to avoid the inevitable fuck-up, the full-force fuck-off? My pride shut me up, my heart shut me down, and together they ganged up on my hope and let her get away.

We are so used to releasing words. We don't know what to do with them if they stay.

He is much stronger than I think I am. He is mischievous, outgoing, ready to soar through the clouds, while I often feel like the cloud itself.

You haven't missed me for one fucking minute. You have never for one single second in your entire pathetic fucking life missed me. You might have missed fucking with my head, and you might have missed the satisfaction you so clearly got from demolishing me, but those are your emotions you're missing, not mine. I'm afraid I can't help you.

Beautiful sadness is a myth. Sadness turns our features to clay, not porcelain.

When first love ends, most people eventually know there will be more to come. They are not through with love. Love is not through with them. It will never be the same as the first, but it will be better in different ways. I have no such consolation. This is why I cling so hard. This is why this is so hard.

I barely notice colors unless I taste them. Not the yellows or the greens. I taste the deeper blues. The darker reds.

that's it -- hundreds of texts and conversations, thousands upon thousands of words spoken and sent, all boiled down into a single line. is that what relationships become? a reduced version of the hurt, nothing else let in. it was more than that. i know it was more than that.

Every you, every me. Fractals. Fractures.

Pride is allowed to have an element of worry, especially when you are a mother.

It's okay," I tell her. "It is okay to be happy

There is nothing that will add depth to despair like the feeling of deserving it.

Happiness is so rarely a part of my vocabulary, because for me it's so fleeting

The heart is a treacherous beast, but it means well.

It is an awful thing to be betrayed by your body. And it's lonely, because you feel you can't talk about it.

I wake up feverish, sore, uncomfortable. Is it sickness or is it heartbreak? I can't tell. The thermometer says I'm normal, but I'm clearly not.

It's a fine line between love and stalking. I decide to walk it.

Truces may stop the battles, but part of you will always feel like you're at war.

I see Nick's number. I debate whether to assign a name to his number. If I commit to that, then I will truly be heartbroken if he never calls me again; my heart will knot each and every time I use this phone and see his name in there. I would probably end up having to trash the phone entirely.

lying awake beside you, these thoughts run through my head.