Lang Leav

Lang Leav

Yazar
3.7/10
3 Kişi
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3
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0
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14
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And then. Two little words that hold a world of promise. And then the light pierced through the dark, forbidding sky, and the rain stopped falling. And then I met you.
He is the thought behind the feeling, the swelling in my chest; the starlight in the evening, the yearning when I undress. He is the sound behind the sighing, the song of every bird; the tears in all my crying, the ache in every word.
“The sad thing is,” she said, “the moment you start to miss someone, it means they’re already gone.”
And if we never talk again, I want you to know that I miss that most of all — and every time the sun goes down, I think of all the things I wish I could tell you
“Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone.”
“But what about the ones who do know? The ones who never took a damn thing for granted? Who tried their hardest to hold on, yet could only look on helplessly while they lost the thing they loved the most.”
“Isn’t it so much worse for them?”
I think love is about being your darkest, most destructive self. To be loved, not in spite of this but because of it.
I think you were always meant to know me a little better than anyone else. And our lives were fated to converge like some cosmic dance. I know there is a terrible distance between us. But our bodies are made of stardust, and we are hurtling through space and time, toward the most beautiful collision.
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Yazarın biyografisi

Adı:
Lang Leav
Doğum:
Tayland

Yazar istatistikleri

  • 3 okur okudu.