But then again love is a dirty, bloody, messy game. Love doesn’t give a fuck about rules or honesty. And as much as love can make one feel alive and want to change for the better, it can also kill you and, with it, your dreams. All in the blink of an eye.

After that day, I discovered one indelible truth. I discovered that love wasn’t everything that mattered in life. It was an emotion that not many had the luxury of feeling without any pain attached to it. Many say that love will set you free, but I disagree. Love is a cage, a very painful one; its gilded bars made with yearning, heartache, and unfulfilled dreams. And the moment I realized that love wasn’t necessary to one’s survival I became free. No one would have the power to hurt me again.

Love is never supposed to hurt. Love is supposed to heal, to be your haven from misery, to make living fucking worthwhile.

They say being in love and loving someone are two different things, right? I mean, you love your best friend, but you love your husband, right? Falling in love with someone is easy. It's loving when the newness has worn off, when life gets tough, when things get in the way, when physical passion is gone, that true love remains. When love can conquer it all.

You’ve got to work hard to pay for life, party harder to enjoy life, and love hardest to live life,

The thing about being selfish is that you don't care if someone is at your feet begging you to stay with him, offering you the world, his heart and soul. It doesn't matter. You'll do whatever you want to do. What you need to do for yourself. Nothing matters but what you want. What you think you need.