But hey. I still don’t know what broke us more, the words I said or the words you never did.
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But hey. I still don’t know what broke us more, the words I said or the words you never did.
Your secrets are safe here (via thesecretletter)
imagine sexting through carrier pigeons
I keep writing about you. They tell me my words are beautiful. I really don’t know why, maybe because they’re written for you. You’re beautiful. But what they don’t know, what you don’t know is I stare at this blank fucking paper and all I feel is rage. Anger. Frustration. Because even though I write down these things, it never comes close to what I feel. If actions could be translated to words I would write me shouting in my fucking car because your favorite song came up on my pandora station again. I would write me standing in the shower while the scolding water burns my skin as I try to think of the exact moment I lost you. Then I would write me shutting off the water in complete and total defeat because in that moment I realized I never even had you. I would write how a fire starts in my chest whenever I see a picture of you and her. I’ve never envied a stranger so much before. I would write how my eyes burn as I continue to stare at the god damned ceiling at 3am missing you. Being up that late was only fun when you were around. I wish you were still fucking around. I don’t even fucking know how to fucking end this. I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter anymore. There’s no poetic way to say I feel like fucking shit.
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me whispering to my dog in the dark: hey.. you still up?
A little something from my new book. Coming 2016. More writing here
Sometimes, I just miss that boy. The one who held my hand walking down the street; who’s arms I laid in and never wanted to go away. The one who I talked to for hours and told pointless stories to. The one who knew everything about me and liked me anyway. The one who knew exactly what I was saying even if I didn’t, and helped me when I had no clue what to do. The one who showed me what love was and what it was like to need someone there. The one who could only make me cry and hurt me like no other guy could. Those eyes that said everything, that sense of sarcasm that was always there; the way even he couldn’t stop from falling in love. That even though we fought constantly and couldn’t stand each other, we couldn’t leave each other’s side. Something is still there; something that never left me the day that boy broke my heart in two. Something like your first love that wasn’t ready to end. Something that makes your stomach flip at the brush of a hand or arm. Something that makes it so much harder to know that he’s not yours anymore, but hers. Something that makes you want to hide away and cry all those tears, because suddenly all of those memories come back and it almost hurts worse to know that it’s all out of control. And you just miss everything about that boy that isn’t ever coming back.
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You.
All I want is for you to be happy, but at the same time I want to be happy too, and the only way I’ll be happy is if I’m with you. I know that not everyone can be happy, and as always it’ll be me to be the one who comes off worse.
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If you walk out on me right now, you’ll be walking out on someone who’s willing to give up their whole life just to make you happy. I just want to be with you. If I could hold your hand for the rest of my life, I would never be scared again. I want to hold you tight and I want to tell you every second how much you mean to me, because no one has ever meant more. I want to be able to help you and make you smile, if you would just let me.
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I love this. It’s like from the moment we see each other, there is constant laughter and sarcasm and commentary. We never run out of things to talk about, yet sitting in silence is just as good. I’m completely comfortable with you. You’re different. With you it’s like an automatic haven. I feel fully and completely safe with you. Oh, and this stupid smile that’s always across my face, that’s a plus too.
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I don’t know what to do, we never talk anymore and when we do, it’s not the same. We can’t even look at each other anymore. I remember how it used to be, but do you? I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore. I’ve been trying to figure you out. But that’s not working out so well. I love you, and you know that. But you should know too, I’m not going to be here forever. So let’s get this over with, so we can get back to normal.
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Even if time fades specific memories, we remember that we loved something. And even if we forget why exactly that we loved it, we know that we did love it, and that itself is reason enough.
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you’ll never fully understand how bad you hurt me. you can say one thing that you don’t even see as hurtful and I will feel it for days after. your little paper cut comment kept bleeding. my blood is thin and skin is frail. when you hit me I feel it for months. your words consume me and I won’t stop thinking until my next break down. so please be careful. I bruise easy and I can’t stop thinking.
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Don’t pretend you don’t know me when it was me who stayed by your side
Your secrets are safe here (via thelovewhisperer)
A little something from my new book. Coming 2016. More writing here
I’m so tired of all of the love quotes I see being about girls going for boys that don’t love them. Guys have it too. I’m an example. Six months ago I lost a close friend and the love of my life, and I can’t let them go. She’s living life fine and I’m struggling. Why can’t people notice that guys struggle too, that we also have feelings and hardships. I’m in love with someone who doesn’t care about me. I don’t see her anymore. I don’t talk to her, and she doesn’t talk to me. I’m hopelessly in love and it’s tearing me from the inside out.
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I don’t believe in failure. Because simply by saying you’ve failed, you’ve admitted you attempted. And anyone who attempts is not a failure. Those who truly fail in my eyes are the ones who never try at all. The ones who sit on the couch and whine and moan and wait for the world to change for them.
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The world really is bizarre. The innocent people? They’re not really that innocent. The guilty people, the offenders? They have stories that go deep into their souls. The bitches? Sometimes they’re not bitches, just be bitches in order to keep their wall up nice and solid. The people that you think that care more than anything? Sometimes they really don’t care at all. And the people that you think have no idea? They care the most. They understand. Because they’ve been there. Some may say people are just people, but people have lives, families, hopes, dreams, visions. Some people have holes in their heart, and you would never know it just by looking at them.
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To you :c