Journal Of An Expat

Photos and words of a someday hopeful expat

[journalofanexpat]

Those few inches that laid between us that first morning felt like miles and miles of endless, bleak desert instead of just a few breaths of warm, wrinkled sheets.

[arturpastor]

Série Lisboa, Technicolor. Décadas de 60/70.

[withapencilinhand]

[florhalmist]

[the1975music]

[delta-breezes]

Finch & Fawn

[emmyrussum]

[a-joyfuljourney]

[amormedarei-deactivated20200116]

[miumiuceline]

[a-s-y-ll-u-m-deactivated2012032]

[vacilandoelmundo]

[thelindaedit-deactivated2020010]

[journalofanexpat]

I know you’re the one and I fucking hate you for that. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.

[journalofanexpat]

No matter how much I care about him or how happy he makes me; at the end of the day he’s still not you.

[journalofanexpat]

I don’t know if I truly miss you or if I’m just simply in the habit of missing you. I seem to operate best like that, lovesick and nostalgic for a person you never really were.

[journalofanexpat]

You can't over analyze everything he texts you because if he really didn't care, he wouldn't bother to reply.