My mom just informed me that my first word was “quote” so I’m going to make sure my last word before I die will be “unquote”
you have been blessed with a rare and epic opportunity
I no longer wish to be loved childishly. I want to be loved with the strength and charm of maturity. I don’t want to be smothered by the fear of jealousy and insecurities. I don’t want a relationship based solely upon shutting the world out and locking each other in. I want to be somewhere where I can breathe. Where, even in the midst of a million people with a million heartbeats surrounding me, I can still know the sound or even play the tune, or nod my head to the rhythm of the one I call “home.” I want to call you home.
raise your hand if you are scared shitless about the future yet couldn’t care less at the same time
I dont want sex, I want the things that lead up to it. The slow kissing then the passionate kissing, then the pulling closer, the neck kisses, the grabbing, biting, heavy breathing, grinding, the pauses while you catch your breath, feeling each other. Oh my.
do you ever feel physically sick because you know you’re not good enough for anybody and you can’t do anything right and you’re too tired
Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don’t fool.
I suffer from that syndrome where your neutral expression makes it look like you’re a angry serial killer