There are no words, no poetry, no language that could make me show you my heart, or to persuade you to show me yours.
I want to find love all over again, love that had no expectation, love that had forgiveness, love that had patience and love that had confidence.
And I have a feeling this love will make me so strong by making me so weak.
If this is what I am going through right now, then I will stick to the narrow road.

Some more than others, some less.
The olive must be crushed to produce the best oil.
To make nice pasta.
Mmm nomnom.