Debo confesar que me enamoré del encanto de tu sonrisa.
Ann
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imagine thinking you're hard to love for so many years and then there's someone who loves you like it's breathing.
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No sé lo que se siente estar limpia.
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How wild is it that every version of you probably exists still, somewhere, in someone’s memory? The messy you, crying on the floor exists still in your mind. The happy, sun-soaked you, exists in your best friend’s memory. No part of you has died, all parts of us exist always, simultaneously and hidden.
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Llegas a estar mejor pero no vuelves a ser el mismo.
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