PHUT @onlykrissy - Tumblr Blog

26,055 votes and 197 comments so far on Reddit

An outlet:

I planned to be in bed by midnight; it's 3:50am. You're returning from your trip around noon when I'll be at work which means I have to clean now. She's excited to have you home; I'm anxious that you'll become the source of undue tension stemming from your volatile reactions to ordinary situations. If I left the house in its current state, you would think we've done nothing but take advantage of her. Untrue . . . But what do I know? I reorganized the pantry, fridge, entryway, and garage; wiped the counters and stove; washed, dried, and put away the dishes; and took the trash and recycling out in the pouring rain to avoid potential sticky points and reasons for confrontation. You won't notice that these things have been done, but you surely would take note if they weren't. Three hours of sleep to get me through my twelve-hour work day.

maikalehua

velvetvetiver

The version of you right now is deserving of love. Not you two years ago when you had more of your shit together, or the five years later version where you’ll surely be thriving. The version of you right now. The one that might just be okay, or is really struggling, or is bored and unproductive. That version deserves love. Having trouble accepting this is fine, but actively denying it is not. Your value is intrinsic, and finding confidence in that is mandatory.

sophie531896273240810891

let me relax……………will comment later…………………..

motivationsforlife

womp138-deactivated20181105

Napping together is an important part of a relationship

wnq-writers

Be like the ocean. Breathtaking to look at, strong enough to not be destroyed, and gentle enough so others find comfort in your presence.

cwbrooke (via wnq-writers)

missmentelle

At age 23, Tina Fey was working at a YMCA. At age 23, Oprah was fired from her first reporting job. At age 24, Stephen King was working as a janitor and living in a trailer.

At age 27, Vincent Van Gogh failed as a missionary and decided to go to art school. At age 28, J.K. Rowling was a suicidal single parent living on welfare.

At age 28, Wayne Coyne ( from The Flaming Lips) was a fry cook. At age 30, Harrison Ford was a carpenter. At age 30, Martha Stewart was a stockbroker. At age 37, Ang Lee was a stay-at-home-dad working odd jobs. Julia Child released her first cookbook at age 39, and got her own cooking show at age 51. Vera Wang failed to make the Olympic figure skating team, didn’t get the Editor-in-Chief position at Vogue, and designed her first dress at age 40. Stan Lee didn’t release his first big comic book until he was 40. Alan Rickman gave up his graphic design career to pursue acting at age 42. Samuel L. Jackson didn’t get his first movie role until he was 46.

Morgan Freeman landed his first movie role at age 52. Kathryn Bigelow only reached international success when she made The Hurt Locker at age 57. Grandma Moses didn’t begin her painting career until age 76. Louise Bourgeois didn’t become a famous artist until she was 78. Whatever your dream is, it is not too late to achieve it. You aren’t a failure because you haven’t found fame and fortune by the age of 21. Hell, it’s okay if you don’t even know what your dream is yet. Even if you’re flipping burgers, waiting tables or answering phones today, you never know where you’ll end up tomorrow. Never tell yourself you’re too old to make it.

Never tell yourself you missed your chance.

Never tell yourself that you aren’t good enough.

You can do it. Whatever it is.

just-call-me-ella

A post about romantic relationships

so I’ve been in a relationship for 5 years now. And I see a lot of posts about how people think relationships mean having butterflies forever, your heart beating faster when they walk into a room, about cuddling together every night, legs intertwined, that you’d be so happy to live together you’d sleep on a double bed with each other every night.

And its not really like that, at least not to me.

You stop getting the butterflies when you live together. Your heart no longer speeds up when you see them, but instead, everything calms down. When youre in the room with them, you feel calm, and secure. When you cuddle them you feel your heart beat slow, and the sound of their breathing carry you towards comfort. It doesnt feel like a roller coaster anymore, it feels like home.

You don’t sleep curled up with each other every night, legs twisted between theirs so tight its hard to tell where yours begin and theirs end.

Instead, you sleep comfortably, side by side, sometimes facing different directions. But every night, you find yourself scooting backwards on the bed so you bump into them. You snuggle against their arm, or stroke their hair as they fall asleep. There are nights when my boyfriend, in his sleep, reaches around me and pulls me to him, like a child with his teddybear, like I am his comfort.

In the wee hours of the morning before the dawn breaks, when the world is blue and you see through cracked eyes, you curl into their chest and inhale their scent before drifting back to sleep.

Kisses aren’t always romantic and firey anymore. But there are so much more of them now. There are cold kisses when you’re eating ice cream in the summer, and sticky kisses over breakfast pancakes. There’s “im leaving now” kisses, and “one more kiss before you go” kisses. There’s sleepy morning kisses before work, when you don’t remember the alarm going off but instead the press of their lips against yours is what brings you into the day.

There’s kisses before sleep, and, you are so sweet with the things you do kisses. There’s kisses because you treat animals so tenderly, and I’m so glad i’m with you and not someone else kisses. There’s quick kisses in the aisles of the grocery store, when its loud and you gravitate together, when instead of having your own personal space and their own personal space, its both of yours together, and you step into their chest to take up less area together.

You don’t always text each other with confessions of love and care like you used to, because that’s a given now, and you’ve moved on to quirky inside jokes about the life youve built together. You share looks of exasperation and amusement in public, your own little world against the outside one.

Relationships aren’t always a fairy tale. They’re not always fireworks and sparks, at least, after the start.

But they are a quiet rhythm and hum of love and care. It’s not a fire in your soul, but one in your hearth, keeping you warm and comfortable, comforting you as you drowsily drift into sleep.

And I love that.

cjanee

This AF