“My anxiety and I have what some people might call a "friends with benefits relationship".
We have no love for each other but she … fucks with me sometimes.”

“Sometimes we love others how we should love ourselves…”

“The only reason something feels really good, it’s because you didn’t know it before. If you fall in love, it’s because it captures you and sweeps you off your feet. If you didn’t have anxiety, then you wouldn’t have passion for anything. The reason we have anxiety is because you care and you’re thoughtful.”

“To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost. But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honour what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness.”

“When I’m being love, I don’t get drained, and I don’t need people to behave a certain way in order to feel cared for or to share my magnificence with them. They’re automatically getting my love as a result of me being my true self. And when I am nonjudgmental of myself, I feel that way toward others.”

“When we try to help people, we have to be aware: are we doing it for them, or are we doing it because we want their approval?
If you're doing it for them, just be there with them, and for them, in a space of love.”

“It was never really love,
but we carried the same scars,
and sometimes that is close enough.”

“I don’t think that I’ve been in love as such,
although I liked a few folk pretty well.
Love must be vaster than my smiles or touch,
for brave men died and empires rose and fell.

For love, girls follow boys to foreign lands,
and men have followed women into hell.
In plays and poems someone understands,
there’s something makes us more than blood and bone.

And more than biological demands
for me love’s like the wind unseen, unknown.
I see the trees are bending where it’s been.
I know that it leaves wreckage where it’s blown.

I really don’t know what "I love you" means.
I think it means don’t leave me here alone…”

“We hurt people that love us, love people that hurt us.”

“I don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though I may sometimes regret it because my lonliness is painful. But when I move into the world, it feels like a moral fall, like seeking love in a whorehouse.”