Loving

Loving the right person at the wrong time,
Having the wrong person when the time is right,
And finding out you love someone right after
That person walks out of your life.

And sometimes, you think you're already over a person,
Until you see them smile at you again,
You'll suddenly realize that you're just pretending
To be over them just to ease the pain of knowing that
They will never be yours again...

For some, they think that letting go is one way
Of expressing how much you love the person,
By sacrificing your happiness for theirs,
Without realizing that the other person's
Doing the same thing for them.

Most relationships tend to fail
Not because of the absence of love;
Love is always present,
It's just that one is being loved too much
And the other was being loved too little
We always fall in love with the person we think we love,
Only to discover that what we loved about them fades.
Bad experiences are always remembered,
But it's the wonderful memories that are captured
To remind us that there are brighter days ahead
And that happiness exists.

You need to learn to let go when you're hurting too much,
Realize that sometimes love just isn't enough
And accept the fact that things aren't always gonna be the same.

“There is someone out there who will love you more.”
It's all the thought you put into your decisions
That impairs your judgments
When your heart already knows what you need to do.

Listen to your heart. Even though it's on the left side, it's always right.

Why the reckless survive

"And they want the risk, because risk taking, for them, is part of being alive...As for me, when I avoid those risks, I feel safe and virtuous but perhaps a little cramped. And I suspect that, like many people who watch their diet carefully - despite the lapses - and exercise more or less scrupulously and buckle up religiously, I am a little obsessed with immortality, with the prospect of controlling that which cannot be controlled. I know I am doing the sensible thing - my behavior matches, most of the time, the spectrum of real probabilities. But against what scale of value? I sometimes think that the more reckless among us may have something to teach the careful about the sort of immortality that comes from living fully everyday."_Konner

by Jake Christie

A SUBTLE KIND OF LOVE.  a story. He loved her in a distant kind of way, the same way the sun heats the Earth. If she were to disappear completely, he knew through pure logic that it would have no great, disastrous effect on him. He would not cease to be; he would not stop breathing; his heart would not stop beating; the world would not stop spinning. The sun would keep shining, radiating heat, if the Earth were not there. On a certain, purely physical level, her absence would have absolutely zero effect on his person. And yet... He loved her in an abstract kind of way, the way a bee loves honey. He wasn't sure why he wanted to love her, but he wanted to love her just the same. Maybe somebody told him once that he should be in love with somebody, so he felt a need to pick somebody and it just so happened to be her. Maybe. Being in love was nice, sure, but he didn't need to be. And yet... He loved her in a removed kind of way, the way a butterfly's wings can start a tsunami halfway around the world. He knew that it had an effect on her, but he wasn't sure how great. On a certain level he was aware that if he were to stop, if he were to disappear, it would have a drastic effect. For him it would be one less flap of his wings, in a manner of speaking, if such a thing were possible without him falling from the sky. And yet... He loved her in a subtle kind of way. It wasn't the kind of love you see in movies, with swelling music and giant gestures and running through the streets to catch a departing train. It wasn't the kind of love that Byron or Shakespeare wrote about, with flowery language and hyperbole and iambic pentameter. It was still and deep, like water that you might mistake for shallow if you just watched the surface. It was entirely his, not dependent on her own feelings for him, and it would still be there whether she, or him, or everyone else on the world disappeared. It was a subtle kind of love, but it was true. And she loved him just the same.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination

“There is no way to happiness.

Happiness is the way.
So, treasure every moment that you have.
And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special.

And remember that time waits for no one.
So stop waiting until you finish school, until you go back to school,
Until you lose ten pounds, until you gain ten pounds,
Until you have kids, until your kids leave the house,
Until you start work, Until you retire,
Until you get married, until you get divorced, until Friday night,
Until Saturday morning, until you get a new car or home,
Until your car or home is paid off, until spring, until summer ,
Until fall, until winter, until you are off welfare, until the first or fifteenth,

Until your song comes on, until you’ve had a drink,
Until you’ve sobered up, until you die, until you are born again,
To decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy
Happiness is a journey, not a destination

Work like you don’t need the money,
Love like you’ve never been hurt,
And dance like no one’s watching.” Author Unknown

Quote

"Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, “you owe me.” Look what happens with a love like that. It lights the whole sky"._Hafez

Ở trong phim hoạt hình Winnie the Pooh, gấu Pooh đã nói thế này : "If even there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember: you are braver then you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we're apart, I'll always be with you" 
--- 
"Kể cả nếu có một ngày mai khi chúng ta không ở bên nhau nữa, thì bạn vẫn phải nhớ lấy điều này: bạn dũng cảm hơn là bạn tưởng , mạnh mẽ hơn là bạn thấy và thông minh hơn là bạn nghĩ. Nhưng điều quan trọng hơn cả là, kể cả khi chúng ta xa nhau, thì mình vẫn sẽ luôn ở bên bạn."

Happy endings

When I was young, I wished I could read the ending of my life in Anderson fairytales. Not until now have I stopped craving for an answer but I've realize that I'm the one that writes the ending of my own.