I am winter, but I wish I was spring.

I used to dream of love, but now I dream of nothing.

I thought I wanted to find you, but now I just want to be found.

I am growing numb to love, when I wish I was warmed by it.

I don’t know anymore.

- T.B. LaBerge // Unwritten Letters to You (via tblaberge)

(via midwestern-darling)