You chose me, I chose you. End of story.

I did that girly little sighing thing you do when you can't handle all the sweetness anymore and bit my lip.

Sometimes, knowing when to let go is just as important as knowing when to hold tight.

Battle scars just remind us that we survived.

It doesn't matter who you were or what you've done in the past. The only thing that matters is who you are right now.

I want to give you back your first kiss, the one that jerk stole from you. And I want it to be something that even a coma can't make you forget.

The things we should focus on in any life shouldn't be what we've lost, but what we've gained