"We meet people, and fall in love, and when we part they leave marks for us to remember them by. Our lovers sculpt us, they define us, for better or worse. Like a pinball, we slam into them and rebound in our different directions, propelled by the contact, and after the parting we might be scared, stronger or more fragile, or needy, or angry, or guilty, but never unchanged. Our lovers linger inside us, like ghosts, haunting the corridors and deserted rooms, sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming, but always there, waiting…"
— George Sands in Being Human (via isummonedyouhere)
(via thyblackwidow)
