Cant Stop My Tears Quotes

#1. there is a list of questions
i want to ask but never will
there is a list of questions
i go through in my head
every time i'm alone
and my mind can't stop itself from searching for you
there is a list of questions i want to ask
so if you're listening somewhere
here i am asking them

what do you think happens
to the love that's left behind
when two lovers leave
how blue do you think it gets
before it passes away
does it pass away
or does it still exist somewhere
waiting for us to come back
when we lied to ourselves by
calling this unconditional and left
which one of us hurt more
i shattered into a million little pieces
and those pieces shattered into a million more
crumbled into dust till
there was nothing left of me but the silence

tell me how love
how did the grieving feel for you
how did the mourning hurt
how did you peel your eyes open after every blink
knowing i'd never be there staring back

it must be hard to live with what ifs
there must always be this constant dull aching
in the pit of your stomach
trust me
i feel it too
how in the world did we get here
how did we live through it
and how are we still living

how many months did it take
before you stopped thinking of me
or are you still thinking of me
cause if you are
then maybe i am too
thin #Quote by Rupi Kaur

#2. He's just pissed because he's been married for so fucking long, he can't remember what a blow job feels like," Matt says, earning a glare from Isaac.

"I don't know that being married has anything to do with it," Pop says and stuffs some Doritos into his mouth. "Your mom and I have been married for almost forty years, and just the other night..."

"No! No! No!"

"Stop talking!"

"Oh my god! #Quote by Kristen Proby

#3. You can't stop my voice cause
You don't own my life but
Do what you want (with my body) #Quote by Lady Gaga

#4. This evening I begin a notebook. If anyone reads this, I trust they will forgive my overuse of "I". I can't stop it. I'm writing this. #Quote by Jonathan Franzen

#5. I began to cry. Barrons looked horrified. "Stop that immediately, Ms. Lane." "I can't." I sniffeled into my cup pf cocoa so he couldn't see my face. "Try harder!" I gave a great sniff and shudder, and turned it off. "I have not been her lover for ... some time," he offered, watching me carefully. "Oh, get over yourself! #Quote by Karen Marie Moning

#6. I love Miley Cyrus. "We Can't Stop" is my ringtone. It's, like, one of eight songs that I have on my phone. I listen to it on repeat. It helps you to do anything you need to do. I'm at the gym, "We Can't Stop" is great. I'm trying to fall asleep: "We Can't Stop." #Quote by Molly Tarlov

#7. What's wrong?"
Before I could stop myself, I mumbled, "I'm used to resting my head on a warm tiger-fur pillow is what's wrong."
He grunted, "Hmm, let me see what I can do."
Panicky, I squeaked out, "No, really. I'm okay. Don't bother."
He ignored my protests, scooped up my mummy-wrapped self, and set me down again on his side of the fire. He turned me on my side so I faced the fire, lay down behind me, and slid an arm under my neck to cradle my head.
"Is that more comfortable for you?"
"Uh, yes and no. My head can definitely rest better in this position. Unfortunately, the rest of me is feeling the complete opposite of relaxed."
"What do you mean? Why can't you relax?"
"Because you're too close for me to relax."
Bemused, he said, "Me being too close never bothered you when I was a tiger."
"The tiger you and the man you are two completely different things."
He put his arm around my waist and tugged me closer so we were spooned together. He sounded irritated and disappointed when he muttered, "It doesn't feel different to me. Just close your eyes and imagine I'm still a tiger."
"It doesn't exactly work like that." I lay stiffly in his arms, nervous, especially when he began nuzzling the back of my neck.
He said softly, "I like the smell of your hair." His chest rumbled against my back, sending massaging vibrations through my body as he purred.
"Ren, can you not do that right now?"
He lifted his head. "Yo #Quote by Colleen Houck

#8. It was the first day in the life of the new lean and mean Peabody.
An hour later, she lay on the grubby floor wheezing like the dying. Her quads and hamstrings burned, her glutes wept, and her arms couldn't stop screaming for mama.
"Never doing this again," she announced. "Yes, you are," she corrected. "Can't. Dying. Can. Will. Help me, I think I broke my ass. Wimp, pussy. Shut up. #Quote by J.D. Robb

#9. KRIT

"Fuck," Matty whispered.

He'd heard her.

It was me who couldn't breathe now. I had thought it was an accident. But she'd fucking done it on purpose. To protect me. Holy hell.

"I'm gonna go . . . ," Matty trailed off. I listened to his footsteps until he was gone before pulling back and looking down at Blythe.

"You got in front of a six-foot-three one hundred and eighty pounds of muscle because he was going to hit me?"

She nodded. "It was my fault he was going to hit you. I was just going to stop him."

She was going to stop him. This girl. Never in all my life did I imagine there was anyone like her. Never.

"Sweetheart, how did you intend to stop him? I could handle him. I've kicked his ass many, many times." I cupped her chin in my hand. "I had rather had him kick my ass than to have anything happen to you. That was fucking unbearable. You can't do that to me. If you get hurt, I won't be able to handle it."

She signed, and her eyes locked back toward the stage. " I made this worse. I'm sorry. Can you go fix things with the two of you so you can get back onstage?"

The distressed look on her face meant I wasn't going to be able to leave. I wanted nothing more than to take her back home and hold her all night. But she was really upset about this. I had overreacted. She had been sitting over here staring at the floor with the saddest lost expression, and I couldn't #Quote by Abbi Glines

#10. My dad says stop thinking that way. "You be lookin' backward all the time, Brady, you're gonna have one heck of a crook in the neck." He smiles when he says that. But I know what he means deep down, and it's not funny. You can't keep dwelling on the past when you can't undo it. You can't make it happen any different than it did. #Quote by Priscilla Cummings

#11. Cadan tipped my chin up to meet his solid red eyes. He stroked my jaw and waited until I said something. But what can I say? I don't want to practice on anybody, much less Luke. What if I can't stop? What if I hurt him?
"What happens if I can't stop feeding?" I asked quietly.
Cadan shrugged. "We'll find a good spot to bury the body. #Quote by Barbara C. Doyle

#12. When I look at you, I still see the son I love more than my own life. But I also see a man who has become so far removed from what matters that his perception is skewed. Family is real, son. A home to settle into - that's real. People who love you and care about you. You've had a phenomenal career, and I'm proud of you. But it's time to stop basing your worth on championships and endorsement deals. You can't buy happiness. You can't earn it. God isn't counting all the deals you're racking up - and neither is your family." He lifted his brow. "And neither is Lucy. For the first time someone's looking at the person inside - and you have to decide if you're going to let her in and be the man she needs you to be." His father turned his head toward a family picture on the mantel. "It's a risk. But one I've never regretted. #Quote by Jenny B. Jones

#13. I lay on the ground, but then I can't reach - I don't want to take my foot out of the tub - but I've got to call somebody because I've got to get a band-aid or something to stop the bleeding. #Quote by Danny DeVito

#14. i want the moon tattooed on my wrists
my grandmother keeps asking me to pray,
i don't have the heart to tell her that my
poems are the only God i have left in me

my mother keeps leaving without saying goodbye
i wish she'd let me cut my hair in the 7th grade,
maybe i'd know how to deal with loss by now

i told myself i'd stop kissing boys who didn't know my name
i said, i'd stop picking at my bones like broken decorations,
i'd quit with the smoking and the drunken poems, and when
i said things like "my bones are heavy" i would only mean it
as a good thing


heavy bones can't be broken,
you can't break heavy bones #Quote by Irynka

#15. I like listening to good music - and I can't stop playing my album. #Quote by Robbie Williams

#16. In this moment I resolve to kiss my husband with an open mouth forever. I want to freeze him the way I see him in this instant: dark eyebrows, sexy, sleepy hair and sleepy eyes. But we can't freeze the way that we see the people we love, as much as we would wish. I know that I will kiss my husband with a closed mouth again, at some point. I know that I will even kiss him with a closed heart.

I pray for our love. I pray that even if I kiss my husband with a closed heart, my heart opens again to him. When I desire my husband. I am grateful to desire my husband. What can we hope for in a marriage but to keep seeing things anew? With the people we love, it is so easy to stop seeing them at all. #Quote by Melissa Broder

#17. Look. There's only one of me, and it's all I've got. I hate seeing myself dissolve and slip and separate so that I'm living in one half, my mind, and I see the other half of me helpless and frantic and driven and I can't stop it, but I know I'm not really going to be hurt and yet time is so long and even a second goes on and on and I could stand any of it if I could only surrender- #Quote by Shirley Jackson

#18. Hanging on to it a little, are you? … There's a trick to letting it go, in case you're interested… You can't try. Trying is a struggle and doing is an act. You can't witness the act of trying, but you can see the results of doing. Trying brings on stress because not only do you have the problem, but now you have all this frustration with it not going away just because you want it to. It's kind of like being told not to think of pink elephants- impossible. What you have to do is stop. You say to yourself, this is over for now. I'm done for now. Take your mind to another place and concentrate on that peaceful place. Deep breaths. Go limp. Put your mind in another state. It takes practice, but it gets easier, over time… My gramma used to say, you can only feel one feeling at a time. For example, you can't feel trust and fear together. If you want to trust but you're afraid, fear is still in charge. If you trusted, there wouldn't be fear. She also used to say you have to listen to what you feel- feeling fear could be warning, right? ...
Don't make love to your problems- they'll never give you back the satisfaction you give them. And, your troubles aren't worth the paper they're written on, but that doesn't mean writing them down won't help you get a fix on 'em. And, God respects you when you work, but he loves you when you dance… she also used to say, 'if Jesus walked the earth today, he wouldn't be hanging out with Billy Graham. He'd be found with the drug addicts and pros #Quote by Robyn Carr

#19. Our eyes finally meet - he's still staring at me, lips parted. And I can't get a read on his expression. As the moments stretch on, a bud of nervousness blooms in my stomach, its vine wrapping around my vocal chords.

"I…I wasn't sure what you had planned for tonight. You didn't tell me."

Those long lashes blink, but he doesn't say anything. I raise my hand toward the kitchen.

"I can go change if this isn't - "

"No." Nicholas steps forward, his hand up. "No, don't change a thing. You're…absolutely perfect."

And he's looking at me like he never wants to stop.

"I didn't expect…I mean, you're lovely…b-but…"

"Wasn't there a movie about a king who stuttered?" I tease him. "Was he a relative of yours?"

He chuckles. And call me crazy, but I swear Nicholas's cheeks go slightly pink.

"No, stuttering doesn't run in my family." He shakes his head. "You just knocked me on my arse."

And now I'm beaming.

"Thank you. You look pretty great too, Prince Charming."

"I actually know a Prince Charming. He's first-class prick."

"Well. Now that you've tarnished a precious piece of my childhood, this better be some date," I tease.

"It will be."

He holds out his hand to me.

"Shall we? #Quote by Emma Chase

#20. My secret vice is Sudoku puzzles. Can't stop playing them. My parents are accountants. I blame them entirely. #Quote by Lisa Gardner

#21. He was dead before. He knew it, didn't you see it in his eyes? My jacket."
"Your jacket?" I say, with enough force that my shaky voice makes Corr start. "How about 'my jacket, please.' "
Sean Kendrick looks at me, perplexed, and I can see he hasn't a clue of why I'm upset with him. Why I'm upset at all. I can't stop shaking, as if I've taken all of Corr's trembling and made it my own.
"That's what I said," he says after a pause.
"No, it's not."
"What did I say?"
"You said my jacket."
Sean looks a little bewildered now. "That's what I said I said. #Quote by Maggie Stiefvater

#22. We need a test!" I jump up out of the chair and pat my body down. "Where's my wallet?"

"In your pocket," she replies dryly.

"I'll be back!" I race out of the house and drive the short distance between Dom's estate and the nearest village. After I find a drug store and buy one of each kind of pregnancy test they have, I race back to my hopefully pregnant wife.

"That was fast," she murmurs with a grin. She was still sitting in the lounge chair, sipping her coffee.

"Should you be drinking coffee?" I ask.

"Let's not get crazy," she responds. I need coffee.

"I got one of each kind," I announce and opened the bag, sending small white and blue boxes scattering.

"Uh, Caleb, we only need one."

"What if we can't figure them out?" I ask and pick one up to examine it. "All of the instructions are in Italian."

She laughs hysterically and then stands, wiping her eyes.

"It's not funny."

"Yes, it is. Pregnancy tests are pretty universal, Caleb. You pee on it and a line either appears or it doesn't." She rubs my arm sweetly and kisses my shoulder before plucking the box out of my fingers. "I'll be back."

"I'm coming with you." I begin to follow her but she turns quickly with her hands out to stop me.

"Oh no, you aren't. You are not going to watch me pee on this stick."

I scowled down at her and cross my arms over my chest. "I've helped you b #Quote by Kristen Proby

#23. He's close enough now that I can hear his footfall on the pavement, and I know
my chances of outrunning him are slim. I'm practically in a full sprint, and my
pounding heart is begging me to take it down a notch. I try to will my feet to keep pace with its beat; but I think it's humanly impossible to run that fast. And then it dawns on me that my footsteps are the only ones I hear.

Somewhere along the way, Tristan's must have come to a stop. And I can't quite explain why I'm running this fast in the first place. I slow to a jog, intending to just pick up with my original pace; but I can't seem to suck in breaths fast enough to propel my feet any further. My molten shoes stutter to a stop, as my hands come to rest on my knees. I'm still wheezily sucking in breath after breath of thick, humid air, when I warily turn to
look over my shoulder.

Tristan's standing about fifty feet back, hands on his hips and a completely
flummoxed twist in his forehead, his chest rising and falling with equally winded gasps. Evidently I was running faster than I gave myself credit for. As he silently watches me, regaining his breath as I do mine, the confusion on his face turns to undeniable hurt (and not the physical kind). I've wounded him, and I can't even
explain why.

Man, I really am an ass. I start the slow walk of shame back to where he stands, one hand upon my hip as I pull in a few more calming deep breaths. I'm debating whether to #Quote by M.A. George

#24. Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does. #Quote by Margaret Atwood

#25. I just can't stop myself; I'm addicted to making you money. I should be spending all day in a country club or never getting out of my pajamas like Hugh Hefner. #Quote by Jim Cramer

#26. I am a dedicated madman, and that becomes its own training. If you can't resist, if the typewriter is like candy to you, you train yourself for a lifetime. Every single day of your life, some wild new thing to be done. You write to please yourself. You write for the joy of writing. Then your public reads you and it begins to gather around your selling a potato peeler in an alley, you know. The enthusiasm, the joy itself draws me. So that means every day of my life I've written. When the joy stops, I'll stop writing. #Quote by Ray Bradbury

#27. Not able to stop it, I felt a small smile tilt up the corners of my mouth. "Noted. Althought I must protest that you keep forcing unwanted kisses on me."
"It's the only way to get one. Unwanted indeed." He raised a knowing eyebrow at me. Arrogant Knave. I shook my head, feeling sad and happy all at the same time. "Why do you persist, Wolfe?"
His grin was slow and wicked as he stood back from me, allowing my body and mind to breathe again. "Strategy."
"Strategy?"
He cocked his eyebrow. "At first I thought imposed isolation would make you miss me-"
"Why you arro-"
"-But then I realised that it's being near me you can't resist. And there are only so many kisses you'll take before you give in to me completely, Rogan. #Quote by Samantha Young

#28. I was leaning over him when he died. My hands on his chest. My palms felt his last breath move inside him. His chest rose and fell and then kept falling, like it could carry us both straight down through the earth.
I didn't stop pushing, but I knew. Right then. I was breathing hard myself. My lungs probably took int he last air Tariq ever exhaled. It can't possibly be in me anymore, but it feels like it is. Like it's weighing heavy on my chest with every breath I take, even now. #Quote by Kekla Magoon

#29. I'm standing by the cereal, reaching for a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, when I feel my chest clenching but not unclenching. It clenches tighter and tighter, like someone has wrapped a corset around it. My palms are wet. My head is compressing, growing and shrinking at the same time. I can hear my breathing, and it's so amplified that, to my own ears, I sound like Darth Vader. A woman at the end of the aisle is frozen as she watches me. She looks scared...My breathing is getting louder, and I cover my ears to block it out. And that's when the ceiling starts to spin and the air disappears and my lungs won't stop working and I can't breathe at all. I drop everything and run away from the cart and all that food until I'm out the door. I stand in the parking lot, bent over at the waist, breathing in the fresh night air, and then I lie flat on the ground, as if this will open my lungs wider and make them work again, only the breath won't come. #Quote by Jennifer Niven

#30. Didn't I talk about us like we were a thing from our first date? I fell in love with you that first time we went out for burgers and dancing. I love our weird dates and your belly laugh and how you see beauty in everything. Except yourself. And I love being the one to help you get there. I love the way you daydream I love the way you hold my hand. I can't stop thinking about the way you taste. #Quote by Alessandra Thomas

#31. You can't tell that the coffin holds the body of a boy.
He wasn't even sixteen but his coffin's the same size as a man's would be.
It's not just that he was young, but because it was so sudden. No one should die the way he did; that's what the faces here say.
I think about him, in there, with all that space, and I want to stop them. I want to open the box and climb in with him. To wrap him up in a duvet. I can't bear the thought of him being cold.
And all the time the same question flails around my head, like a hawkmoth round a light-bulb: Is it possible to keep loving somebody when they kill someone you love? #Quote by C.J. Flood

#32. INEZ: To forget about the others? How utterly absurd! I feel you there, in every pore.Your silence clamours in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out - but you can't prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I'm certain you hear mine. It's all very well skulking on your sofa, but you're everywhere, and every sound comes to me soiled because you've intercepted it on its way. Why, you've even stolen my face; you know it and I don't ! And what about her, about Estelle? You've stolen her from me, too; if she and I were alone do you suppose she'd treat me as she does? No, take your hands from your face, I won't leave you in peace - that would suit your book too well. You'd go on sitting there, in a sort of trance, like a yogi, and even if I didn't see her I'd feel it in my bones - that she was making every sound, even the rustle of her dress, for your benefit, throwing you smiles you didn't see... Well, I won't stand for that, I prefer to choose my hell; I prefer to look you in the eyes and fight it out face to face. #Quote by Jean-Paul Sartre

#33. Stop it! Just give me a second!"

"Alright, alright, everyone - " Hank flashed his palms like stop signs and then waved them around as if he were a city flagman exercising his authority to halt traffic. "Stand back, stand back - hands to yourself... in your pockets… there you go." Hank loved the spotlight and demanded it whenever opportunity presented itself. For once, I actually welcomed his inflated need for attention. The pressing against my back let up, and my friends stepped aside.

Pausing first for dramatic effect (typical Hank) he drew in a deep breath and delivered an improvised monologue (also typical Hank.)

"People, people, people… look at what you're doing. Can't you see the effect you're having on this sweet, innocent frightened child? I mean, what is up with the sudden aggressive-mob behavior here? Remember, people, this is our friend! Our colleague! Our schoolmate, chum, pal, our number-one supporter most days! Does she deserve this kind of peer pressure? …this group coercion? …this physical harassment? I say nay! Nay, I tell you! Now I know how excited you are to see her fi~nal~ly agree - after many, many grueling months of relentless persuading - to become one of us. To attempt a mad stab at initiation. To feel what it is to be spectacular! But give the girl some room to breathe! If you push a frightened lamb, she's gonna turn tail and scamper off in the opposite direction, baaaahhing all the way. Then what will our efforts be #Quote by Richelle E. Goodrich

#34. For us, eating and being eaten belong to the terrible secret of love. We love only the person we can eat. The person we hate we 'can't swallow.' That one makes us vomit. Even our friends are inedible. If we were asked to dig into our friend's flesh we would be disgusted. The person we love we dream only of eating. That is, we slide down that razor's edge of ambivalence.
The story of torment itself is a very beautiful one. Because loving is wanting and being able to eat up and yet to stop at the boundary. And there, at the tiniest beat between springing and stopping, in rushes fear. The spring is already in mid-air. The heart stops. The heart takes off again. Everything in love is oriented towards this absorption.

At the same time real love is a don't-touch, yet still an almost-touching. Tact itself: a phantom touching.

Eat me up, my love, or else I'm going to eat you up.

Fear of eating, fear of the edible, fear on the part of the one of them who feels loved, desired, who wants to be loved, desired, who desires to be desired, who knows there is no greater proof of love than the other's appetite, who is dying to be eaten up, who says or doesn't say, but who signifies: I beg you, eat me up. Want me down to the marrow. And yet manage it so as to keep me alive. But I often turn about or compromise, because I know that you won't eat me up, in the end, and I urge you: bite me.

Sign my death with your teeth #Quote by Helene Cixous

#35. The great thing about celebrity culture is that they can't seem to stop themselves from displaying their ridiculous behaviour. I feel it's my job as a serious investigative journalist to witness all kinds of behaviour and then report back to the audience through the prism of my own anger and bitterness. #Quote by Kathy Griffin

#36. Before I knew what I was doing, I was out of my seat and rushing up toward the railing that divided the seats from the field. I had to make sure he was okay. I couldn't just sit here and watch him lie there in pain.
I heard my name called, but I ignored it as I flung my leg over the top railing and prepared to hoist myself over.
One of the guys working security happened to see me and he rushed over and ordered me to stop.
"I can't. That's my…" My voice broke. I couldn't force the word boyfriend between my lips. It just wasn't enough. It just didn't describe how desperate I was to get to him.
"He's my everything," I finished.
The security guard gave me a grim look. "You can't come on the field."
A lone tear tracked its way down my cheek, and I craned my neck. Frustrated, I glanced up at the big screen to see if it was showing a different angle.
But they weren't playing Romeo. They were focused on me.
I blinked at the site of me half straddling the railing and the security guard standing there with a grim look on his face as he stared me down. My cheeks were red, behind my glasses, my eyes wild.
I turned away from the screen, irritated that they weren't focused on Romeo.
I glanced at the guard. "I'm coming over."
He crossed his arms over his chest as if to say, I dare you.
I flung my other leg over so I was balanced on the bottom rung.
"This is your last warning," the guard shouted.
The crowd st #Quote by Cambria Hebert

#37. I get so nervous on stage I can't help but talk. I try. I try telling my brain: stop sending words to the mouth. But I get nervous and turn into my grandma. Behind the eyes it's pure fear. I find it difficult to believe I'm going to be able to deliver. #Quote by Adele

#38. But you're worried I'll get in trouble?" I try not to show how much this pleases me. I've managed to ignore him for days now and here I sit. Lapping up his attention like a neglected puppy. My voice takes on an edge. "Why do you care? I've ignored you for days."
His smile fades. He looks serious, mockingly so. "Yeah. You got to stop that."
I swallow back a laugh. "I can't."
"Why?" There's no humor in his eyes now, no mockery. "You like me. You want to be with me."
"I never said-"
"You didn't have to."
I inhale sharply. "Don't do this."
He looks at me so fiercely, so intently. Angry again. "I don't have friends. Do you see my hang with anyone besides my jerk cousins? That's for a reason. I keep people away on purpose," he growls. "But then you came along..."
I frown and shake my head.
His expression softens then, pulls at some part of me. His gaze travels my face, warming the core of me. "Whoever you are, Jacinda, you're someone I have to let in."
He doesn't say anything for a while, just studies me in that intense way. His nostrils flare, and again it's like he's taking in my scent or something. He continues, "Somehow, I think I know you. From the first moment I saw you, I felt that I knew you."
The words run through me, reminding me of when he let me escape in the mountains. He's good. Protective. I have nothing to fear from him, but everything to fear from his family.
I scoot closer, the draw of him too great. My w #Quote by Sophie Jordan

#39. I don't know," I stuttered, "Do you love me?"
His gaze was so intent the entire world seemed to stop. "You tell me. I never stop thinking about you. I worry about you all the time. Every beautiful thing I see reminds me of you. I can't finish my practices in Colorado with out wishing you were around," he said in a steady tone. "You tell me what I feel. #Quote by Mariana Zapata

#40. Camus-boy, you're always going to be the same you, just older. It's not like there's a moment when you wake up and go, Shit, I'm grown-up, I don't feel like myself anymore.'
I don't tell him, but this is the scariest fucking thing I've ever heard in my life. Being grown-up should feel like a big transition. It can't be something that, despite my best efforts, I've been drifting closer and closer to every summer. It needs to be a shock. I need to know at what point to stop holding on. And that moment will suck, and probably every moment after that will suck, but at least I'll know that everything that came before really was valid. I really was young and innocent. I wasn't fooling myself. #Quote by Hannah Moskowitz

#41. I don't like you. I don't like how your hair smells, and how I can't stop thinking about waking up and seeing your face. I hate how my bed felt empty when you left. I don't like how good you were with my family, especially Harper, and how I wanted ot see you with them again, but not just as a guest. As a member. You're right. I don't like you at all. #Quote by Chelsea M. Cameron