I donāt know if this is called love but all I know is when you speak to me itās the best thing in my day, my week hell, even my year. I donāt know if itās called love but all I know is when your eyes look into mine, I can hear every love poem in the world and I want to write them all down but I canāt. All I know is when you leave its like thereās a hole in my chest and I swear it feels like a part of me is missing. I donāt know if itās love but I sort of do at the same time because you and your stupid brown eyes are in my head every second of every day and I could write novels about your hands and maybe Iām just scared to call it love? I donāt know.
Your secrets are safe here (via thelovewhisperer)











