I always fear that my heart will collapse from exhaustion to the point that I will stop loving you.

I read this on here.
It was interesting reading someone's voicing of thoughts I've had before but couldn't put words to.

Like when you walk into a room, and an hour later your friend says that the room smells like cherry-scented washable markers and you realize that they are right and you couldn't place it before, but you do remember recognizing something familiar in the air when you first walked in. It makes me antsy. Those cherry-scented washable markers bring memories.