What is love? Is it an overused word or lifes best-kept, yet sweetest, mysteries?

I can tell you missed my by the way you run your fingers through my hair as we dance under the stars on this warm summer night.

Love is: when you miss him even before he's gone, when you could listen to him talk forever and never get tired of hearing to his voice, when the sound of his name sends chills down your spine and when you see his smile as soon as you close your eyes.

Life is too short so, kiss slowly, laught insanely, love truly, and forgive quickly.

People keep telling me to hang on- but my arms are getting tired, and I'm losing grip.

Love is like a song, but it's just to sad to write.

Just look and dream. Remember, he's saved for someone special.

If you asked me if I could, would I go back, do it all over again. Have fun, be with him, and live my life with no problems, but know my heart would be broken, and I'd be miserable... I'd say yes.

Love- another form of suicide

It hurts so much to talk to you as just friends.