“Sensitive People Should Be Treasured. They Love Deeply And Think Deeply About Life. They Are Loyal,

“I crave space. It charges my batteries. It helps me breathe. Being around people can be so exhausting, because most of them love to take and barely know how to give. Except for a rare few.”

— Katie Kacvinsky

And I wondered what it was like to be chosen. I was never chosen. I was a maybe, a probably, sometimes even a definitely but never the one, never the chosen one.

Unknown

“You can’t always wait for the perfect time. Sometimes you just have to jump.”

— Unknown

Ruth Awad, from “Let me be a lamb in a world that wants my lion”

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs, ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who are alive.

Howard Thurman

Some hearts understand each other even in silence.

Yasmine Mogahed

Mary Oliver, from “Hum Hum”, A Thousand Mornings

Jenny Slate, Little Weirds

for my unrequited crush (disguise)

she wakes at dawn when the sky is painted gold, and pink, to dress in drowsiness.

she doesn’t remember when it started, when her cheeks became so pink, when her heart grew unsteady whenever she tried to think, but now instead of colouring them flush, she drains the colours from that blush to keep and hide away lest someone see it and say her thoughts, spill them aloud— no. that couldn’t be allowed.

so now she wakes two hours earlier, when the sky is painted blue, to carve her cheeks and chap her lips and give off less than she might give so no one would see it and then ask how her glow had grown so fast why her heart beat unsteady over something that she wasn’t yet ready to know.

but instead of stifling it, as she wished, the glow grew and she began to know the hurt that followed, the cramps and aches and loving pains that carved out her heart and gleaned her happiness a constant rain.

until when she tried to cover it someone noticed the flush that couldn’t be missed, under her disguise, the hope that grew in her eyes, the stabs of knives in her heart, every  single  time.

she stifled that pain. till it went away, but to this day something faint stays the pink glow that was stolen from the sun the love in which she is the only one.

“Why not take a chance and bet on happiness?”

— Jenny Han