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“You’re thinking, maybe it would be easier to let it slip
let it go
say ”I give up�� one last time and give him a sad smile.
You’re thinking
it shouldn’t be this hard,
shouldn’t be this dark,
thinking
love could flow easily with no holding back
and you’ve seen others find their match and build something great
together,
of each other,
like two halves fitting perfectly and now they achieve great things
one by one, always together, and it seems grand.
But you love him. Love him like a black stone in your chest you couldn’t live without because it fits in there. Makes you who you are and the thought of him gone—no more—makes your chest tighten up and
maybe this is your fairytale. Maybe this is your castle.

You could get it all on a shiny piece of glass with wooden stools and a neverending blooming garden
but that’s not yours. This is yours. The cracks and the faults,
the ugly words in the winter
walking home alone and angry
but falling asleep thinking you love him.
This is your fairy tale.
The quiet in the hallway, wishing for him to turn around, tell you to stay, tell you to please don’t go I need you
like you need me
and maybe it’s not a Jane Austen novel but this is your novel and
your castle
and you can run from it your whole life but this is here
in front of you.
Maybe nurture it?
Sweet girl, maybe close the world off and look at him for an hour
or two.
This is your fairy.
It ain’t perfect and it ain’t honey sweet with roses on the bed.
It’s real and raw and ugly at times. But this is your love.
Don’t throw it away searching for someone else’s love. Don’t be greedy. Instead, shelter it. Protect it. Capture every second of easy, pull through every storm of hardship. And when you can, look at him, lying next to you, trusting you not to harm him. Trusting you not to go.
Be someone’s someone for someone.
Be that someone for him.

That’s your fairy tale. This is your castle.
Now move in. Build a home. Build a house. Build a safety around things you love.
It’s yours if you make it so.

Welcome home, sweet girl, it will be all be fine.”
― Charlotte Eriksson

“Oh, look, the lights are so pretty,�� I said dreamily, having just noticed
them.
I smiled at the way the lights were dancing overhead, pink and yellow and
blue. I felt some pressure on my arm and thought, I should look over and see
what’s going on, but then the thought was gone, sliding away like Jell-O off a
hot car hood.
“F���Բ�?��
“Yeah. I’m here.��
I struggled to focus on him. “I’m so glad you’re here.��
“Yeah, I got that.��
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.�� I peered up at him, trying to see
past the too-bright lights.
“You’d be fine,�� he muttered.
“No,�� I said, suddenly struck by how unfine I would be. “I would be totally
unfine. Totally.�� It seemed very urgent that he understand this.
Again I felt some tugging on my arm, and I really wondered what that was
about. Was Ella’s mom going to start this procedure any time soon?
“It’s okay. Just relax.�� He sounded stiff and nervous. “Just...relax. Don’t
try to talk.��
“I don’t want my chip anymore,�� I explained groggily, then frowned.
“Actually, I never wanted that chip.��
“Okay,�� said Fang. “We’re taking it out.��
“I just want you to hold my hand.��
“I am holding your hand.��
“Oh. I knew that.�� I drifted off for a few minutes, barely aware of
anything, but feeling Fang’s hand still in mine.
“Do you have a La-Z-Boy somewhere?�� I roused myself to ask, every word an
effort.
“Um, no,�� said Ella’s voice, somewhere behind my head.
“I think I would like a La-Z-Boy,�� I mused, letting my eyes drift shut
again. “Fang, don’t go anywhere.��
“I won’t. I’m here.��
“Okay. I need you here. Don’t leave me.��
“I won’t.��
“Fang, Fang, Fang,�� I murmured, overwhelmed with emotion. “I love you. I
love you sooo much.�� I tried to hold out my arms to show how much, but I
couldn’t move them.
“Oh, jeez,�� Fang said, sounding strangled.”
― James Patterson, Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports

“I want you to know that you are my soul and my HEART.
You are my today, my tomorrow and my PAST.
Nothing and no one can ever break us APART.”
― Mouloud Benzadi

“Dovrebbe essere proibito tornare nei luoghi dove sei stato felice, soprattutto se i motivi per essere felice non ci sono più.”
― Bianca Marconero, Un altro giorno ancora

“What do you want?�� Endymion asked her. “Do you want to go?��
“Would you let me stay?�� she countered.
Endymion’s dark gaze met hers. “Whatever you wish of me, if it is in my power to grant it, I will. I do not believe I am capable of less. But you must choose. I cannot do that for you.”
― C.E. Jeffery, Song of the Abyss