@apologetic--chainsmoker - Tumblr Blog

aroseforno-one-deactivated20221

sorry i forgot to reply i dont feel fucking alive

there is so much love in friendship, people forget that

Like the bottom line is no 18 year olds and 19 year olds are exactally adults and especially girls are forced to grow up and yeah we have to talk about that BUT you CAN’T be saying “I’m not a real adult” to minors.

You still have power and you’re still an adult and minors are easily groomed or end up thinking relationships with 18+ people are ok because “they’re not emotionally an adult” like no shut the fuck up. Both discussions can happen at once and also keep kids safe or I’ll kill you.

j-uwu-ish

Hey reblog this actually

thealmightysystem

This is exactly the shit that got me groomed.

Don’t. Fucking. Do this.

“Mental age” be damned if you’re over 18 physically, then you’re over 18. The law and basic morals do not give you the right to use your immaturity (or mental illness) as an excuse to put your adult ass in minor spaces.

j-uwu-ish

EXACTLY!!

almighty-hail

IN REVERSE

I was also groomed by the tactic that I was “more mature” than others my age and therefore “more mature for sex.”

That’s fucking disgusting. There’s no such thing as “mature enough.” If they’re not an adult don’t fucking do it.

I don’t give a shit if a 28 year old acts like a 15 year old or a 13 year old acts like they’re 20, don’t ever make up the “mental age” excuse. Developmental delay isn’t an argument. Emancipation (a legally independent teen) isn’t an argument. Being in college or AP courses isn’t an argument. Being a system or syslittle is not an argument. “I’m really just ____ in a ____ year old body” or “people call me im/mature” is not an argument. “It’s technically legal over here/there” is not an argument.

“Needing/being that parental figure” is a bile-filled mouth of cow shit and the fact I’ve seen grown ass people using that on literal children and teens is borderline pedophilia.

Just don’t fucking use “mental age” as a fucking excuse. That’s how kids who are 15 end up sleeping with 39 year olds. Don’t do that shit. Don’t ever put that shit in a kid’s head.

pepperoniplaygirrrl

When I say “please don’t take a picture of me” it’s not because I’m being bitchy and stubborn, it’s because if I see that picture I will seriously feel so bad about myself and think I am the ugliest thing on earth and sink a little deeper into self consciousness and hatred.

sonlosgatosespaciales

extrasad

“I thought I was so goddamn lucky Lucky that in the midst of busy streets and wrong turns and missed trains I met you Lucky that you loved me Lucky that everyone else was too unlucky to meet you first Lucky that I got to wear your scent on my skin like a little kid wearing her favorite sweatshirt everyday Lucky that I got to kiss you whenever I wanted Lucky that I got to kiss you at all Lucky that when I cried onto your t-shirt you never minded Lucky that you loved me Lucky that I got to sleep next to you Lucky to be in love Lucky to fall asleep on the phone with you and wake up with you still on the line, breathing heavily with sleep in your chest Lucky that after you hung up the phone you’d rush over to see me Lucky that I got butterflies and lost my breath even after all those months Lucky that I loved you so much I’d let you tear me apart But how unlucky it is to love someone too much, To be torn apart How unlucky it is to be so lucky.”

—

extrasad

“Love teaches you how to kiss How to hold him and wrap your legs around him and kiss him until your cheeks are as pink as your old bedroom bed sheets love taught me to fight, to yell and scream and bleed and hate and love and love and love and love again. And love taught me how to mend, how to stitch things back together with a sharp needle and messy stitches that are bound to unravel in my needle-pricked fingers. When I fell in love I learned to sleep with the lights on, on the left side of the bed and his arms across my chest and somethings, you can’t unlearn. Loving you was learning to ride a bike, once you learn, you can never forget, and I wish I could forget, I’d rather have bleeding knees and scraped up hands and elbows that ache from falling off and hitting the pavement when your mom promises not to let go and then let’s go anyway, but I know how to ride a bike the way I know how you take your coffee and what to say to make you stop crying even if I don’t really mean it. love taught me terror. I’ve always hated scary movies, I never realized I was living in one, constantly haunted by your silence on the other side of the phone and how pretty your ex-girlfriend’s mouth looks when she says your name. I’m accustomed to shaking, and I’ve memorized that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and the burning lump in my throat, I can feel it, while I’m driving down the street, in the middle of the supermarket, in my fucking sleep. Love is permanent and only lasts 5 minutes.”

— Love was a class on my high school schedule (via extrasad)

extrasad

“Love teaches you how to kiss How to hold him and wrap your legs around him and kiss him until your cheeks are as pink as your old bedroom bed sheets love taught me to fight, to yell and scream and bleed and hate and love and love and love and love again. And love taught me how to mend, how to stitch things back together with a sharp needle and messy stitches that are bound to unravel in my needle-pricked fingers. When I fell in love I learned to sleep with the lights on, on the left side of the bed and his arms across my chest and somethings, you can’t unlearn. Loving you was learning to ride a bike, once you learn, you can never forget, and I wish I could forget, I’d rather have bleeding knees and scraped up hands and elbows that ache from falling off and hitting the pavement when your mom promises not to let go and then let’s go anyway, but I know how to ride a bike the way I know how you take your coffee and what to say to make you stop crying even if I don’t really mean it. love taught me terror. I’ve always hated scary movies, I never realized I was living in one, constantly haunted by your silence on the other side of the phone and how pretty your ex-girlfriend’s mouth looks when she says your name. I’m accustomed to shaking, and I’ve memorized that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach and the burning lump in my throat, I can feel it, while I’m driving down the street, in the middle of the supermarket, in my fucking sleep. Love is permanent and only lasts 5 minutes.”

— Love was a class on my high school schedule (via extrasad)

extrasad

Boys I Fell In Love WIth pt 2

extrasad

“we went our separate ways at the worst time, while we were still happy, while we still loved each other. the break ups based on logic hurt more than the break ups based on pain. I can’t be angry with him, he didn’t kiss my best friend or get drunk and tell me he doesn’t love me anymore. he was mine. and there was no fire, no broken glass, no crashed car in the side of my bedroom, no empty bottles of vodka, or pills, no screaming, no blood. just the quiet sound of hearts snapping while we clung to each other in a room filled with rain. We didn’t scream, or exchange spit-filled words laced with fire, we said “thank you” and “I love you” and “goodbye” we said “I’ll miss you.” And we meant it. This hurts more than any other pain because all the other times I could be angry, my head overflowing with bad memories. I wish I could hate him. But I don’t. I love him and I will forever. Saying goodbye to something so good can kill you. And it might. And I love you.”

—