She loved me coming and going, at my worst and at my best. She had a bottomless well of love for me.

She wasn't easy on me, don't get me wrong. She smacked me. She scolded me. She punished me. But she loved me. She really did. She loved me falling off a swing set. She loved me stepping on her floors with muddy shoes. She loved me through vomit and snot and bloody knees. She loved me coming and going, at my worst and at my best. She had a bottomless well of love for me.

I loved her as much as ever and I still did not know how much that was.

I have so much in me, and the feeling for her absorbs it all; I have so much, and without her it all comes to nothing.

I found god in myself and I loved her / I loved her fiercely

She was one of those, who, having, once begun, would be always in love.

she knew I was in love with you.

I was famously in love with a woman who had no time to spare, not even a breath, for she dwelled in a place beyond time or the reach of anyone’s Rolodex, her every breath measured out of pressurized tanks.

She was a mirror that did not lie; whose interest in me was real; whose love was real.

She loved with so much passion as she loved with ignorance. She did not know whether it were good or evil, beneficent or dangerous, necessary or accidental, eternal or transitory, permitted or prohibited: she loved.

She was everything I wanted. She was beautiful and charming, with a quick sense of humor, and she supported me in everything I did.

She already loved me too much to see me as I was.

But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever

Deep is the well of the past. Should we not call it bottomless?