Fading Spark

Sydney Janine I know more than I let on and less than you assume. I fall in like about 20 times a day. I could care less and I could care more.

[bl-ossomed]

“I hope that you never, not even for one second, become a secondary character in your own story.”

— My spanish teacher, giving me some life advice I didn’t know I needed. (via moncts)

[frisso--n]

[joselinehernandezgifs]

[unreactive]

[brooke-worm]

“I need a person who can make me laugh on the mornings I don’t want to wake up.”

— (via aradicalexchange)

[bl-ossomed]

“It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.”

— It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

[misswallflower]

“Eat Your Heart Out” is a series of words remembered from break-ups reimagined as something sweet.

by Isabella Giancarlo

[brianfulda]

Spent the long weekend in Colorado, the place that got me into photography a decade ago, and fell even more in love with it than I was before.

Various locations in the state of Colorado. July 2016. (Instagram)

[natemeg]

Serious PNW vibes here in Colorado.

Really though, Colorado is making me totally fall in love with shooting landscapes. I’m starting to trust myself more when it comes to editing.

[adventures-in-progress]

i love you to the mountains and back - colorado

[iwantcupcakes]

[h-o-r-n-g-r-y]

“You come home, make some tea, sit down in your armchair, and all around there’s silence. Everyone decides for themselves whether that’s loneliness or freedom.”

— Anonymous 

[jakeelko]

Delta, AK

jakeelko.tumblr.com

Instagram- @lordelko

[oamisoa-deactivated20160323]

I love it when people tell me about me because I have no idea who I am

[h-o-r-n-g-r-y]

“Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.”

— Azra.T “this is how you keep her”.

[instanthappinesss]

[robsesphoto]

A foggy morning at the Grand Tetons National Park

source: robsesphoto