wot fuk u sei

❝ people always say that it hurts at night and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3 a.m. is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken. but sometimes it’s 9 a.m. on a tuesday morning and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up, and the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know what to do with your hands. — var ref = (''+document.referrer+''); var page = (''+window.location+''); document.write('