Try to love someone who you want to hate, because they are just like you, somewhere inside, in a way you may never expect, in a way that resounds so deeply within you that you cannot believe it.
Today I begin to understand what love must be, if it exists. When we are parted, we each feel the lack of the other half of ourselves. We are incomplete like a book in two volumes of which the first has been lost. That is what I imagine love to be: incompleteness in absence.
Luv not one, Luv not two Luv d one who luvs u true,
Luv not three, Luv not four Luv d one who luvs u more,
Luv not five, Luv not six Luv d one who really sticks,
Luv not seven, Luv not eight Luv d one who really waits
At sunrise everything is luminous but not clear. It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us. You can love completely without complete understanding.
