Just Survive Somehow. @born-tobeaskeleton - Tumblr Blog

The sad thing is, nobody ever really knows how much anyone else is hurting. We could be standing next to somebody who is completely broken and we wouldn’t even know it.

Unknown (via wnq-writers)

wnq-writers

Believe me. I loved you. I did. Why else would I wait for hours just to fit myself in your schedule? Why else would I adjust my sleeping patterns so that I could catch you awake? You were busy. You were pursuing your dreams and that you were good at what you were doing. I understood that. You strived to find time for me, and I appreciated that. But I needed more. I couldn’t stand days of not seeing you because unlike you, I didn’t have anything to keep me occupied. Over time I realized that I needed you more than you needed me, and that I was miserable. I needed to get out Everyone else was discrediting what I felt because I left you. They said I didn’t love you. They were angry at me for breaking your heart. I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. I’m sorry for wanting the things you couldn’t give. I know it was selfish. But I loved you. Nothing will ever change that. It was real. It didn’t work out, but it was real.

waferqueen (via wordsnquotes)

#if you could see this #H

goodfuuuuuuuckinriddance

“you’ll get through this. you’ll survive.”

that’s the thing, though. i’ve been “surviving” my entire life. i don’t want to just keep surviving, struggling to keep my head above water. that’s no way to live.

toxicrants

My kink is husbands & wives who are still portrayed as very much in love with each other, because even after years of commitment and kids, they still talk to each other, go on fun random adventures and try new things. No resentment. No portrayal of marriage as a chore. Just actual love.

teachagainstfascism

i just have this persistent feeling of “i’m not doing enough” combined with “i don’t have the energy to do anything” and it just really fucking sucks

alonesomes

something about women crying in bathrooms, always in a hurry, always the violent swiping under the eyes, pressing at the puffy red blotches, rushing, getting it out, looking in the mirror and then, like a warrior, going back outside to wherever like nothing ever happened and doing it all again. tell me we’re not brave even when we’re hiding.

bisexualbeowulf

Halloween takes place on a Monday this year and if that doesn’t perfectly sum up how awful 2016 has been I don’t know what will

thelovejournals

I need you to know that no matter what happens, it was worth it to me. Being with you, loving you. It was all worth it.

Jenny Han, We’ll always have summer (via wnq-writers)

rosecoloredbinchass

BUZZFEED DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING JOKE

theliteraryjournals

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened. You will recall sexual trysts with this person that never technically occurred. This is because the individual who embodies your personal definition of love does not really exist. The person is real, and the feelings are real–but you create the context. And the context is everything. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story (via theliteraryjournals)