Ghost like you mean it
If you ghost someone, you better be 100% sure you never want to see them again. None of that come back from the dead bullshit.
taylor price
we're not kids anymore.
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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$LAYYYTER
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@bicoastal-blue
Ghost like you mean it
If you ghost someone, you better be 100% sure you never want to see them again. None of that come back from the dead bullshit.
You are way too beautiful, way too smart, and way too effing fun to be anybody’s #2. Don’t even settle for #1. You deserve to be someone’s ONLY.
Someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. They can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. And whatever their reasons you must leave. Because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. You never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. There is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. And there is the love that will be ready.
Nayyirah Waheed
(via wethinkwedream)
if people want to leave
let them.
do u ever just get waves of missing someone? like you’ll go for a while and be ok and then all of a sudden ur heart hurts
He makes me feel so much more than I want to. It's like he ripped me open and everything is spilling out uncontrollably. He's not even there to stop the bleeding, no, he's just standing by watching the flood run past his feet while the tears flow out of my body and into the swirling torrent.
I was so contained, and now I'm being emptied into someone unwilling to catch me. Oh my God, make it stop
Bohemian Switzerland - Czech Republic
This hits so hard. This is my hometown; I’d recognize it anywhere. When I go home, the fog always welcomes me like an embrace from a spirit that left part of herself inside me. Memories from my past are wrapped in fog, but it does not cloud my mind or my heart; it brings clarity and calm.
The San Francisco fog is memory itself, intertwined between generations, through waves of immigrants and settlers seeking golden dreams in the west. We are united by fog, and we share the same cold droplets that freeze our memories; that swirl around us in the cool grey mornings of contemplation. It is a continuum of endless history, spanning time and space to connect us, like an immense ocean. It is full of love and acceptance.
So often I hear fog used to describe something obscure and heavy, but I know the fog to be weightless, crisp, and full of life. She has kissed my face from birth, and she gently caresses my hands when I return.
beautiful rhodies
Sunday Morning // S.K Louise
Vintage
Cabin life.