From @oink1729:
Our love is written not with dramatically capitalized nouns running, out of breath, into firm, sentry-like, exclamation marks: Oh Joy of Tumultuous Fate! It is written with semi-colons, tender parenthesis, lists. A making things work, muddling through fuck-ups kind of love. A love that will leave this world holding hands. A love in small letters.
From @_ankitachauhan:
Strangers come into our life with an option of certainty. “Love wouldn’t be enough, no matter how much we exhausted from it. Their small gestures, tiny talks and kindness saved our life for a while.
The simply worded letter written in her small hand felt like a surge of love flowing through my body.
Our love is written not with dramatically capitalized nouns running, out of breath, into firm, sentry-like, exclamation marks: Oh Joy of Tumultuous Fate! It is written with semi-colons, tender parenthesis, lists. A making things work, muddling through fuck-ups kind of love. A love that will leave this world holding hands. A love in small letters.
From @_ankitachauhan:
Strangers come into our life with an option of certainty. “Love wouldn’t be enough, no matter how much we exhausted from it. Their small gestures, tiny talks and kindness saved our life for a while.
Although we know we can’t reserve them forever, still their silhouette outlasts the time. Little things matter.
From @ashiejayn:
The third night in a row I was home past her bedtime and my heart strangled with guilt as I watched her sleep.
A folded sheet of paper peeked out from under her pillow, addressed to me.
A folded sheet of paper peeked out from under her pillow, addressed to me.
The simply worded letter written in her small hand felt like a surge of love flowing through my body.
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