Love Reckons Hours For Months
Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.
Your absence has gone through me like thread through a needle everything I do is stitched with its color.
The more you go far from me, The more you ‘ll Feel my Love Increased.
When you are in a relationship, you are aware that it might end. You might grow apart, find someone else, simply fall out of love. But a friendship isn’t a zero-sum game, and as such, you assume that it will last forever, especially an old friendship. You take its permanence for granted, which might be the very thing so dear about it.
Before I sleep and after I wake up and all the hours in between you occupy my mind. So, practically every moment of the day you are in my thoughts. I miss you.
Our hours in love have wings; in absence, crutches.
This is the sad bed of chosen chastity because you are miles and mountains away.
Don’t measure the distance; measure my love.
Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Distance is the key to love’s eternity.
Separation is not the end of love; it creates love.
Love knows not distance; it hath no continent; its eyes are for the stars.
Ever absent, ever near; still I see thee, still I hear; Yet I cannot reach thee, dear!
Why is it that when you miss someone so much that your heart is ready to disintegrate, you hear the saddest song on the radio.
Your absence has not taught me how to be alone, it merely has shown that when together we cast a single shadow on the wall.
Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell.
Here in my heart, that’s where you’ll be; you’ll be with me, here in my heart. No distance can keep us apart, long as you’re here in my heart.
Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.
As contraries are known by contraries, so is the delight of presence best known by the torments of absence.
Days of absence, sad and dreary, clothed in sorrow’s dark array, days of absence, I am weary; She I love is far away.
Change can be good but its always tough to let go of the past.
When you’re in love, sometimes you have to swallow your pride, and sometimes you have to keep your pride. It’s a balance. But when the relationship is right, you find the balance.
Maybe that’s what it all comes down to. Love, not as a surge of passion, but as a choice to commit to something, someone, no matter what obstacles or temptations stand in the way. And maybe making that choice, again and again, day in and day out, year after year, says more about love than never having a choice to make at all.
I miss him in so many ways, but right now I miss him in the way you always miss someone when you’re single among a room full of couples.