Is everything how we really make it? Are we all just happy or do we settle for what seems to make others happy? What is it that makes us know what we want or what is truly best for us?
Sometimes I feel like we settle because settling is the easiest thing to do. Love seems to be so hard so we choose to piece moments together just to label it as love in order to keep it with us.
Do we regret what we do? What we have? Who we have? Or do we find reasons to make it all right?
I’d have the craziest dreams but never seem to be able to live them out. Is it because I choose not to or because you’re not the one my dream is really about?
This is what we have, moments, time and an unbalanced level of happiness. Do we settle for love because were afraid to be weak and alone or is there really something holding on to something that’s really there.
Every thought rumbles inside me, preparing to explode, leaking out into scrambled words that to you, at the moment, has no meaning.
Listen. Learn. Live.
Questions cause your heart to skip beats, bouncing off the walls of your chest and sinks deeper back into your chest, causing pain.
I’m just saying you can do better.
Yet you stay because love holds you, or is it the idea of love.
It doesn’t have to make sense to you, sometimes it doesn’t make sense to me; but I’m still here.