Dominic Riccitello Quotes

People are so worried about being accepted that it causes them to lose themselves and in turn, lose moments.

Don’t break my heart. Crush it. Destroy it. Let me wallow it until I feel hollow in it. I’ll bash in the pain. I’ll scream your name and then one day I suddenly won’t.

I touched him. From brain to body, in ways I couldn’t quite understand. But he did and for him, that was all that mattered.

I loved you with different words than you knew and that seemed to scare you.

Wrote you a poem or two. You didn’t enjoy them, but I did for you.

I think if we stop running towards broken arms, we’d all be just fine.

When you look in the mirror, do you look at yourself or for yourself?

When someone says they love you, don’t believe it. Love is shown with actions and not words.

They say if the love is true, then it’s easy. But that’s false. Love is complicated. It’s sticky. It’s bliss and it’s a mix of emotions. It’s not easy.

His eyes said what I cannot see.

I pushed him against his Jeep, looked him dead in the eye and kissed him. He asked if he could come up, and I just walked up the steps and said, not yet. That was the moment I knew I loved him.

The hard part wasn’t breaking up. The hard part is forcing myself to fall out of love with you.

I write the right. I do the left.

I, too, was fiercely independent and thought I could make two equal four.

The meaning of life is to die living it.

I stopped writing in the obvious. I wrote how I saw it and if they don’t understand it, that’s fine.

I loved you before all of this. When there was nothing. When there was only a single atom in the night sky.

They’re scared of death, but that’s like being afraid of life.

You have to grow. You have to be. You have to love yourself unconditionally.

Some days I wonder if I stopped writing about him, if I’d love him a little less.

Three years later and I’m still writing about you. I don’t know if that says more about you or I.

I never expected you to understand, but I did expect you to be there.

You were a rhyme who mattered, a being who slipped all too often.

What if I were to wish upon a blood moon that I could have you standing here and I standing there? And when it happens to arrive in eighteen years, that you’ll be there, waiting for me like I’ll be waiting for you. As we did on the night where the moon shined down and I saw you standing in white with eyes that could ignite and a fire which couldn’t quite die.

The beauty was nothing made sense. We were complex. We were intricate. We were designed with flaws which seemed to make everything perfect. But the defining word is seem. We don’t see what’s in front of us until it’s away from us. Until it’s behind us. Until it doesn’t bother us. Sometimes things aren’t perfect, yet they appear to be. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense until it does. But it always does.

Sometimes love them more than you, but just make sure you love yourself too.

I never said I love you because I knew he would understand it differently. I loved him, and I still do, but it was as a chapter. It wasn’t as a fairytale ending.

You don’t need them. It’s that simple. But for some reason it’s complex. It’s difficult. It’s dangerous. We can’t seem to fathom it.

Maybe the problem isn’t everything and everyone around you, but what lies within you.

We must make tough decisions to see if it’s worth it in the end.

We were one, even in the darkest corner.

It was our first date and I asked what his favorite movie is. He asked if I’d judge him, but instead of judging him I just loved him.

I’ll never know if it was figuratively or literally when he said I drove him crazy.

We live in a world of contrast and it’s sad we are among people who can’t seem to grasp the differences surrounding them.

I danced as he twirled in and out of consciousness, and there we were, one in love and the other astray.

Hallucinations aren’t always out of the ordinary. How do we know we’re not hallucinating if everything seems plausible?

Sometimes relationships aren’t meant to be forever. We stumble upon one another to learn, to love, to appreciate and become who we’re supposed to be.

They’re scared of the other kind of love. The one which lacks hurt, but pains after awhile.

running with sharp knivesnever got me so farbut running with youseemed lovely

We love certain people until death. We love others until we don’t. And sometimes we never fell in love in the first place. Falling in love isn’t necessary. Building character, life experience, development, and self-love: those are important. People get lost in the idea of affection for another person that they completely disregard themselves. That’s dangerous. Life isn’t about building something with someone. Life is about building something for yourself, but if someone comes along and they align, you share it with them.

It wasn’t worth it, but at the time it was. And that’s all that mattered.

How you react to a situation says more about you than you know.

I like the chase, scavenging and how we unravel. Standing naked with all my pores at the door. Waiting for a response, a love, someone to call my home. Where my emotions graze the air and I’m lying half past gone.

He was beautiful and still is, we just couldn’t flow within the same constellation.

I remember things like dates down to minutes, what they smelled like, how they walked and how they tug their hands in their pockets. I twine myself in nostalgia of moments and not necessarily the people in them. I long for the idea of the past and occasionally forget the present. I find myself lost in memories, just looking to recreate the moment; forgetting the past is in the past and what we have is now.

Looking back and wondering if it could have worked eventually hurts more than trying and failing.

Maybe I hold on for too long, but maybe you don’t hold on for long enough?

I stopped writing in a way they would understand because it wasn’t for them or even him. It was for I to understand, for I to make sense, and for I to let go of it.

Loving you was hard, wanting you was harder, but kissing your forehead was insanity.

To fall in love with pain is to fall in love with art.

Not every relationship is meant to last. Some are there to create an impact on your life. Relationships that last three months are just as important as ones that last a lifetime.

I loved everything to anything to everyone who surrounded him. He was perfect. A delusion with a sweet melancholy taste. He was crazy, but he was my crazy and inside, everything felt right.

It didn’t affect him because he couldn’t fathom how I felt. He never saw how I held or how I dealt. And when a breeze hits, his first thought is never a scent. We worked in different ways and different places, which were divided by a constellation.

I romanticized him until he was the perfect being. A soul so beautiful, but so immensely evil too.

We do things because we want it, not because they’re good for us.

I stumbled upon something and someone so magnificent I was truly blind to it.

It was perfect, but perfection is terrifying.

I loved you with texture. You loved with a softness. Texture brought detail, softness brought folds. Folds brought creases and creases had secrets.

I smell him in intervals, in varieties, in ways I don’t quite understand.

He said he was going to fix everything and I believed him. But I believed him before and again some. And I guess I got lost in the resentment of disbelief.