Let her be lonely. Let her believe that no one in the world truly understands her. Give her the freedom to fall in love with the wrong person, to lose her heart, to have it smashed and abused and broken. (…) Let her have secrets. (…) Let her make mistakes. (…) Let her sit outside at night under the stars. Give her a flashlight to write by. (…) Love her, and let her go.
(from)
(via paris2london)
It’s really one of the few machines I think to be perfect.