1) What do I think? I think you’re making a mistake. I think you’re just making excuses for your heart. I think you’re just fooling yourself into thinking it won’t work out so you don’t have to try. I think you’re scared, that’s why you’d rather call it quits than giveus a chance. I think you know your heart beats louder than your thoughts. And I think you’ve been hurt before and although you don’t want to admit it, I think you’re scared. You’re fucking scared.
2) If we’re just friends, why don’t you act like one? How come we still kiss and can’t get enough of each other’s taste?
3) I really don’t want to be “just friends” with you. But I’d rather be friends with you than nothing at all. Because I don’t want to lose you. I cannot lose you.
4) I know it doesn’t need to be spoken out loud but I just want to say it, so it’s official. I like you. Like, I really like you. And it’s not the things those girls, who used to leave lipstick stain on your clothes, care about like your career or where your family’s from. I don’t care much for that. It’s when you asked me if I wanted to go buy milk with you and when you promised to watch a show with me, even thought you have already watched it before. It’s when you would kiss me on the forehead. It’s those things that I care about the most.
5) If we’re still friends, why haven’t I heard from you in months?
6) I got an A today on my paper. Remember that professor I told you about? The one that hated the way I wrote? The one who gave me my first C+ on an English paper? Well I just got the most recent one back. And I am soaring right now. Maybe I won’t fail this class.
7) My book is still at your house. So is my scarf. I want them back. Or maybe I just want to see you. But then again, I want you to keep them. Remember me. I hope you think of me sometime.
8) One night you said you wish I was closer so I could keep you company. Darling, I wish you were next to me every night.
9) I still wish there was something more. A part of me still hopes that it’s worth more than whatever it was that ended. I keep missing you and somehow, I miss you even more. Even after all these months I still can’t let it all go. I still replay the moments and I still hear conversations we had. There are so many people in this big city but all I see is you. Or maybe that’s the only person I wish to see.
10) I miss you. I really wish I could tell you that. But that feeling is irrelevant to you and I don’t want to seem weak. I am weak, I don’t need you to know I still search for you in the strangers next to me.
11) Those shorts of mine that you threw in the washer with your clothes still smell like your laundry. I can’t seem to get rid of your scent.
12) Listen, please just hear me out. I have so much to say but I need you to promise me that you’ll listen. I have never felt so much for someone in such a short amount of time. And you know, even through it all - I have to say that I’d do it all over again, a million times. Those feelings I had wasn’t just butterflies, it was a house burning down and I ran in. I didn’t care about the flames because I knew you’d be there, somewhere, and you were my shelter, a home. I’ve never felt more alive than I did that evening we sat by the river and drank smoothies. Time never passed as fast that night we sat in Starbucks and talked until it was closing time. Things just never felt as right until you came along.
“Date someone who is interested in you. I don’t mean someone who thinks you’re cute or funny. I mean someone who wants to know every insignificant detail about you. Someone who wants to read every word you write. Someone who wants hear every note of your favourite song, and watch every scene of your favourite movie. Someone wants to find every scar upon your body, and learn where each one came from. Someone who wants to know your favourite brand of toothpaste, and which quotes resonate deep inside your bones when you hear them. There is a difference between attraction and interest. Find the person who wants to learn every aspect of who you are, and hold onto them.”—(via bringthestars)
I hate when doctors ask me to rate my pain from 1 to 10. HATE IT. it’s hard to tell anymore. what used to be a 8 is now like a 4 because i’m used to it. i’m tougher. because i’m saving the 8 for when it’s a normal person’s 20. Although i feel…
“We don’t learn to love each other well in the easy moments. Anyone is good company at a cocktail party. But love is born when we misunderstand one another and make it right, when we cry in the kitchen, when we show up uninvited with magazines and granola bars, in an effort to say, I love you.”—Shauna Niequist, Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table, with Recipes (via thatkindofwoman)
the only domestic instinct my parents have managed to pass on to me is the tendency to hoard multiple plastic bags in another plastic bags despite the fact that I will probably never need this many plastic bags in my adult life
sometimes I kiss people I shouldn’t kiss and let them unbutton my jeans sometimes I leave English class without asking and walk in angular circles until I can hear the blood rushing under my skin sometimes I run until I can’t breathe sometimes I sit in the rain sometimes I sleep for six hours in the middle of the day
sometimes I think I’m alive sometimes I think I probably never will be
“I masturbated 4 times today.
Is it wrong that I can’t stop thinking about fucking you?
I mean, Jesus, 4 times in one day?
In my head, I have your body down
to a science.
I know how to make you beg and I know
where to put my hands.
We touch each other like piano keys
and it is beautiful, the way we sing.
Maybe there are some things you
just shouldn’t say out loud.
Maybe that way you never have to
apologize for them.
It’s Wednesday and I am out of my mind.
I am counting the tiles on the kitchen
floor just for some peace.
1, 2, 3, we don’t even make it to the bed, 4, 5, 6, I bite your neck and draw blood, 7, 8.
My mom asks me what I am thinking
about and I want to throw up.
I keep counting.
Want is an ache that won’t leave me be,
even when I sleep.
On Thanksgiving, I am going
to lick the cranberry sauce off of
my fingers and wish it was you.”—Want | Caitlyn Siehl (via mediocremediocrity)