"Sometimes it's about playing a poor hand well."
You don't love because: you love despite; not for the virtues, but despite the faults.
The truth is not in the words, but in the silence between them.
The only obsession everyone wants: 'love.' People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you're whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You're whole, and then you're cracked open.