We depend on love because the first time your mother held you, that’s all she put into your tiny heart. We depend on love because the first time you felt your heart break, that’s all they took from you. That last little bit of love, forever bittersweet. We depend on it, we depend on them, we’re inflicted. There’s no cure for it, so we’ll continue to search for it. There is a sea, there is a waterfall. There is a flame, there is a volcano. There is a pebble, there are mountains. Little things, tiny little reasons as to why you’ll always smile. It affects us. There’s an empty hole, you’ll just try to fill it.
It’s never enough (via everylittlepieceofyou)















