I always think of you before I fall asleep. The words you said, the way you looked. The things we laughed about, the silent moments we shared. And when I dream, I’ll dream of you. Because it’s about you, it’s always about you.

I want to say I love you. I want to say that I am so, hopelessly, desperately, absolutely in love with you. But words are the knives that can tear a fragile friendship into a million ribbons, never to be whole again. So I have to make a choice. No matter what I feel, you must never know the truth. I might love you, I might be crazy, but no matter what I think I feel…you can never know.

There is nothing beautiful about the wreckage of a human being. There is nothing pretty about damage, about pain, about heartache. What is beautiful is their strength, their resilience, their fortitude as they display an ocean of courage when they pick through the wreckage of their life to build something beautiful brand new, against every odd that is stacked against them.

Nikita Gill,

Wreckage

(via

meanwhilepoetry

)