sentences and phrases about feeling

[سنبلا]

To My Friends Who Are...MARRIED
Love is not about "it's your fault", but "I'm sorry", not "where are you' but "I'm right here", not "how could you" but "I understand", not "I wish you were", but "I'm thankful you are."

To My Friends Who Are...ENGAGED

The true measure of compatibility is not the years spent together but how good you are for each other.

To My Friends Who Are...NOT SO SINGLE

Love isn't about becoming somebody else's "perfect person." It's about finding someone who helps you become the best person you can be.

To My Friends Who Are...HEARTBROKEN

Heartbreaks last as long as you want and cut deep as you allow them to go. The challenge is not how to survive heartbreaks but to learn from them.

To My Friends Who Are...NAIVE

How to be in love: Fall but don't stumble, be consistent but not too persistent, share and never be unfair, understand and try not to demand, and get hurt but never keep the pain.

[سنبلا]

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Red roses were her favorites, her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows. The year he died, the roses were delivered to her door. The card said, "Be my Valentine", like all the years before.

Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say, "I love you even more this year, than last year on this day. My love for you will always grow, with every passing year." She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.

She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day. Her loving husband did not know, that he would pass away. He always liked to do things early, way before the time. Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.

She trimmed the stems, and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband's favorite chair.
While staring at his picture, and the roses sitting there.

A year went by, and it was hard to live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude, that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there were roses, sitting by her door.

She brought the roses in, and then just looked at them in shock.
Then, went to get the telephone, to call the florist shop.
The owner answered, and she asked him, if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her, causing her such pain?

"I know your husband passed away, more than a year ago,"
The owner said, "I knew you'd call, and you would want to know.
The flowers you received today, were paid for in advance.
Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance.

There is a standing order, that I have on file down here,
And he has paid, well in advance, you'll get them every year.
There also is another thing, that I think you should know,
He wrote a special little card...he did this years ago.

Then, should ever I find out that he's no longer here,
That's the card...that should be sent, to you the following year."
She thanked him and hung up the phone, her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached to get the card.

Inside the card,

Read More The Two Teardrops

Two little teardrops were floating down the river of life. One drop said to the other, "I am the teardrop of a girl who loved a man and lost him." Who are you? "Well, I am the teardrop of the girl who won him."

Love is very strange. Love is unconditional commitment to an imperfect individual. You need it but when you love, it's like destining yourself for pain. You become addicted and dependent on the person. You become strong and at the same time, you open yourself up to being hurt. Love can make you bear any kind of pain and any kind of sacrifice. It can also make you feel stupid and act stupidly. Sometimes when you love and end up giving so much of yourself, subconciously you only discover how much you've given when the person you love hurts you or has to say goodbye.

Then you realize, an important part of yourself is already

[The Eagle]

	Nice, if we have love in our lives True love And remember who loved us and Must remember our loved to keep the sweetness of this life I loved the poem Roses by James A. Kisner We know Jack Benny arranged to have a single red rose sent to his wife Mary Livingston, every day after he passed away thnx sumbila best wishes Eagle