He asks. He always asks. He always asks if I love him. He never asks what type of love I feel.
Love is nothing but a pile of chips stacked on a roulette table. 333 more words
A certain matter lays heavy on your heart. You try to forget it. Forget him. Forget her… but it just keeps coming back up again. You keep replaying what she said or what he did and the pain is just as real as it was the day it happened. 89 more words