Torn Carian Cole Quotes

I want you to be my first. I want you to be my last. I want you to be all the in-betweens. I want you. Just you. Only you

I'm just waiting for the one that makes me feel like forever wouldn't be long enough.

Lateness is a trait of disrespect and it gives the person waiting for you time to think about your other shortcomings.

She’s everything. My past. My present. My future. My twin flame— the one who shares the path of my soul.

When I look at you, I don't see my father's friend, or my uncle, or my godfather, or an older man. All I see is the person I've always loved and has always made me happy. That's it. I just see you.

A few stray leaves are floating along the surface, and I like how peaceful they look, not going under the water, and not blowing away either. Just floating, weightless and effortless. I want to be a leaf.

How can one little moment, one tiny touch, one quickening breath change so much?

I quickly learned that the illusion of appearance will always outweigh the truth of what’s really inside.

Karma, you are one demented bitch.

Did you forget?" I ask playfully, leaning a little closer to him, his hand on my neck pulling me forward, gently coaxing me even closer. "You're the man I'm going to marry someday.

Something feels different. How can one little moment, one tiny touch, one quickening breath change so much?

If coffee was a person, it would be my best friend. I

I wanted to be responsible for igniting a feeling in a soul just as lonely and broken as my own.

Somewhere in hell Satan has just pulled out a bag of marshmallows and is roasting them in my honor.

Hello, Satan. I know you've been waiting patiently for me since the demise of the good and noble Uncle Tor. I have a feeling I'll be staying here a while.

because all I see when I look at him are eyes the color of a sky I ached to see but was kept hidden from me for ten years.

I can almost believe this girl could love me, scars, damage, ugliness and all. And oh , how ferociously I would love her back if given the chance.

My love, walk in the rain with me, kiss me in the misty fog. Let me hold you all night under the hush of the wind. I’m waiting for you, throwing pennies, making wishes. I’m wishing only for you, always for you. Come back to me. I'll fight for you, I’ll fight for us. Wish for me too and I’ll make it come true. I love you forever and longer.

I'm tired of the fight. I'm lonely. I want to play.

The secret to fairy tales is believing in them. That’s what makes them come true.

Tor: I've always loved how unconditionally you love me Ah. The power that words can hold is nothing short of amazing. They

I don't know," I admit. "I guess I'm just nervous about graduating and things changing. And I've had a shit week with the kids at school calling me a slutty prude." "Slutty prude?" He repeats. "How is that even a thing?" I throw my hands up. "I have no idea! Leave it to me to create some new form of loser. It's been total hell.

And I guess we’re perfect together because her demons are strong enough to wrangle with mine.

So much power hides in words, and once you speak them, you give them life, and you have to accept the truth that comes with them.

I can almost believe this girl could love me, scars, damage, ugliness and all . And oh, how ferociously I would love her back if given the chance .

One forbidden touch, one taboo kiss, and we destroyed who we were.

Love is like an onion, with a lot of layers and a lot of tears before you get to the good part.

Her liking the feel and smell of cozy and dirty while she's wearing nothing but my shirt is not something I should be thinking about. But I do, for a quick second, before I bury it deep in that place in my chest with the other thoughts I don't let myself think about.

It was dark, and there was light. Flashing, burning. There was warmth, and there was ice. Melting, oozing. I was flying, but I had no wings. Floating, drifting. Until there was nothing at all. And the silence screamed the loudest, crying to be heard.

I'm an uncle. And my two best friends are parents. And we're all fuckin' under sixteen.

My love, For all the times I pushed you away My heart was trying to pull you closer

So I shredded their cash, put it in a box with a fresh pile of the dog's shit, and mailed it back to them. Mature? No. Immensely satisfying? Hell fuckin' yes.

She’s everything. My past. My present. My future. My twin flame—the one who shares the path of my soul.

The power that words can hold is nothing short of amazing. They can hurt you, and they can heal you. Or, they can completely gut you. And sometimes, like now, they can make everything right in your world.

I just want that magical feeling I wrote about years ago when I used to write the lyrics for the band’s rock ballads. I want crazy fucking love. I want someone that'll never let me go. I want to wake up to my best friend every day.

Why is it acceptable to get involved with a total stranger, who could do any number of things to hurt you or betray you, but not get involved with someone who has cared about you since the day you were born? Is it all a matter of social perspective?

I'm not surprised when she reaches towards me and lifts my shirt, her eyes widening in appreciation as she takes in my abs. When you have lots of muscles and ink and hair that's longer than the norm, people think they can touch you. Pet you. Like it's okay.

She’s like the star on top of the Christmas tree— that final glittering touch that brings it all together.

My love, Come back to me. My heart misses you. My soul aches for you. My body needs you. My mind craves you. You Are My Forever

Me: I'm sorry I scared you. Kenzi: You never scare me, Tor. Shit. Wrong answer, little girl. Wrong. Fucking. Answer.

I wish you weren't who you are...

Young love...first love is so innocent. So pure and trusting. So all encompassing. I shouldn't be on the receiving end of that love from her at my age, but in all honesty, she's my first love, too.

Toren can't make me feel that way. He's old. Okay, not old, but way older than me. He's practically family. He freakin' babysat me. He's been to all my birthday parties and all my school events. He's taken care of me when I was sick. He taught me how to ride a bicycle. He held me when I cried for my mom. He knows all my secrets and dreams. He's... ... everything.

I’ve been racking my brain, trying to figure out what’s the best thing for us to do. What’s the right thing for us to do. And I can’t come up with a fuckin’ clue. All I know is I want to be with you.” He links his fingers with mine. “I can’t fight the rights or the wrongs anymore. I don’t care how old I am or how young you are or anything in between. All that matters is you are my forever. You always have been. You always will be.

It took months for me to get used to the idea of going to other rooms, of being able to go outside, walk around, and return to where I started. The expectation of a wall popping up and stopping me, trapping me, continues to linger. I still expect him to sneak into my space, even though I watched him die. Death doesn’t erase fear or memories. The monsters that live inside us are much harder to get rid of. I’m getting better at battling them, though.

My father used to tell us to try to make a difference in someone's life every day. Even if it's only to make them smile. Today, I made a difference. It was just for a bunch of dogs, but it still counts.

hell can't zip it up into one of my saddlebags because I'm

I've tried to get in the mood with him and turn my brain off and my body on, but so far my body hasn't gotten on board with his groping and nipple manhandling. To me it all feels like a really deranged doctor is giving me an examination, and I can tell he's getting impatient with me stopping him every time he tries to go further.

I want a man to love me someday like my dad loves my mom. That unconditional, no-matter-what, I will fuck with anything that tries to get in my path type of love.

What is that theory about the six degrees of separation? That everyone is somehow connected in some way?

If coffee were a person, it would be my best friend. I'm definitely addicted in a bad way.

I don't want to be a catch. I just want to be with someone for the right reasons. And I want them to be with me for the right reasons, too. I can't deal with bullshit or games or people that don't know what they want, or can't commit to it when they do know.

I have no past without him, and no future without him. Quite simply, he is my world. There’s no way I will ever move on from a love like ours. We belong to each other. I’ve always known it, and I am utterly exhausted from fighting it, denying it, keeping myself from it, and hiding it—as I’m sure he must be, too.

I love how much they love each other. Never fighting, always hugging and kissing, always whispering secrets to each other, and pulling each other closer for kisses. It's like they existed in their own little bubble of love and forgot the rest of the world existed.

Three hours later I'm in a small boutique in town trying on lingerie for the first time in my life when I get a text from Toren.

How bizarre. How stalkery. How romantic.

Who am I?" "Did you forget?" I ask playfully, leaning a little closer to him, his hand on my neck pulling me forward, gently coaxing me even closer. "You're the man I'm going to marry someday.

Once upon a time… I watch as the flames crawl across the pages of the pink bound book, obliterating the tiny words until that very first sentence goes up in flames and smoke. One by one, I toss all my childhood fairy tale books into the fire and watch them get eaten by the orange flames. Tears spill down my hot cheeks, and strong arms embrace me from behind, pulling me back against his chest before I can fling myself into the fire to save my precious books. Those worn pages, and the stories they hold, once saved my life. It’s more than just the books, though. I want to feel the searing burn of flesh like he did. I want the smoke to seep into my lungs and suffocate me like it did to him. “Let it all go.” His warm lips brush against my ear as he pulls us backward, his arms tightening around me. He always knows what I’m thinking, what I need to hear or feel from him—often before I do. He understands the aches of my heart and the memories that lurk and claw at my soul. He’s the only one who knows how to chase it all away. When the last page has burned, and there’s nothing left but ash and memories, we turn away. He drapes his arm across my shoulder, presses his lips to the top of my head, and leads us from the fire as wisps of smoke trail after us like ghosts not wanting to be left behind. This is where it ends. Exactly where we began.

The moment I touched him, I destroyed him.

I’m not the prince on the white horse, Holly. I’m just a fucked-up ugly loser on an old beat-up motorcycle.

She’s like the star on top of the Christmas tree—that final glittering touch that brings it all together.

Look at me, being nice. It’s almost sickening.

I wished you would never doubt me again. I've spent almost eighteen years being there for you, Angel. Because I want to. No one ever made me or expected me to. You're just where I always wanted to be.

It was obvious he didn't want to say those words. But something inside him made him say it, like he had to say it, like they were eating at him, threatening him to let them out. The taboo of what could be hiding in the depths of him awakens a part of me that feels like it's been waiting, patiently, silently for him to come.

For now, I'm happy enough living through the romance books my grandmother sends to my e-reader, but it's pretty sad that the kisses in the books are way more exciting than the ones in real life.

I believe trust is a gift from someone, just like love is. Trusting and loving someone says I have faith in you. And I appreciate the depth of that way more than I do material things. I'll take faith over shoes any day of the week.

Some walls need to be taken down, to get to a resolution. But other walls... those walls have to stay up to protect us.

If coffee were a person, it would be my best friend.

He’s my other half; the one who makes my heart beat. The man who makes me feel every feeling that could possibly be felt – and then some. The man who held me and loved me through almost every moment of my life. I have no past without him, and no future without him. Quite simply, he is my world.

Underneath the muscles, ink, and grease, beyond the loud bike, past the long hair and dirty fingers, is a man who wants the whole fucking package. Not just the fucking. Been there, done that.

I ached to make everything better for her. But I couldn’t. That’s what Uncle Tor would do, and unfortunately he went up in flames the moment we touched. That guy is gone, and she can’t ever have him back. Just like I can’t ever have my little blond-haired princess back. One forbidden touch, one taboo kiss, and we destroyed who we were. I don’t know who either one of us is anymore or how we got all fucking tangled up in this mess of lust and love that should never exist. But it doesn’t exist, and no matter how much I try to deny it, it keeps coming back to get in my face, refusing to be ignored.

I don’t think I’m going to have any doubts, Kenzi. Ever. You’re what I want. I love you.

Young love... first love is so innocent. So pure and trusting. So all encompassing. I shouldn't be on the receiving end of that love from her at my age, but in all honesty, she's my first love, too.

I think I'm falling in love with her, and I'm powerless to stop it. I can feel it, like a train with no brakes, coming faster and faster, straight for me. Soon, it's going to crash, and it's not going to be pretty.

The moment I kissed Kenzi, she became the One. Maybe she always was.

My love, Walk in the rain with me. Kiss me in the misty fog. Let me hold you all night under the hush of the wind. I'm waiting for you. Throwing pennies... making wishes. I'm wishing only for you. Always for you. Come back to me. I'll fight for you. I'll fight for us. Wish for me, too... and I'll make it come true.

Once you've lost someone you love with no explanation, no closure, no end - you're stuck in a torturous limbo. You don't know if you should hang on to that ray of hope that they might come back or give in to your grief and accept that they're gone . So you teeter between both until you slowly go insane.

I want crazy fucking love. I want someone that'll never let me go. I want to wake up to my best friend every day.

My love, I wished for you a thousand times, and finally, you're mine.

Do you want to go to jail for assault again?

Jason is going to eat my fist.

Toren—age twenty-five (in jail for assault)