Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Peter Solarz

blake kathryn
trying on a metaphor
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
NASA
art blog(derogatory)
d e v o n
$LAYYYTER
Game of Thrones Daily

PR's Tumblrdome

JVL
YOU ARE THE REASON

⁂

No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Claire Keane
Cosimo Galluzzi
RMH

@theartofmadeline
seen from Pakistan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany

seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Egypt

seen from United States
@penguinnamedelmo
You know what’s crazy to me? There is someone out there who knew everything about you. What kept you up at night. What made you sad. What broke you. They knew your laugh, your mannerisms, the little details no one else noticed. They saw your beauty and your kindness up close. And even after knowing all of that, they still chose to hurt you.
One of the realest comments I’ve ever read
“You’re too smart for this individual”
“It made me wonder how many times we forgive just because we don’t want to lose someone, even if they don’t deserve our forgiveness.”
— Deb Caletti
today my prof said to my class “you don’t truly love someone until they’ve hurt you and you still think of them as the greatest person in the world. Love is the most violent act.” ok ok ok
I’m constantly torn between “if it’s meant to be, it will be” and “if you want it, go and get it.”
“if it’s meant to be, it will be” - friendships, relationships, people in general coming into your life, dealing with rejection
“if you want it, go get it” - your goals, aspirations, work and work ethic, changing your life (diet, exercise, hobbies, political views, opinions)
““What was the hardest part of your first heartbreak?” my little sister asked me one day. It was a sunny day, we were having a picnic. But suddenly, I felt as if the clouds had overtaken the sun. “I think the hardest part was that we kind of morphed into the same person,” I said. “What do you mean?” she asked. “When you spend so much time together, you get so close. Soon enough, you can read each other’s minds, you can tell what they’re thinking just by a raise of their eyebrow.” I picked away at the grass we were sitting on, trying not to feel the depth of what I was saying. I couldn’t let myself get that low again. “Your favorite song becomes his favorite song. Then, his favorite bands become your favorite bands. You start loving the same movies. You pick up hiking together. And then when you break up, you still love all those things. It’s all still there.” “But they’re not,” she said, almost in a whisper. “But they’re not,” I repeated. “And it’s like you become a half of a person, left on your own to grow the other half back.””
— excerpt from an unfinished book #89 (via un-predictible)
Silence, Heartache, Wishing
You came into my life —
nothing more than a friendship.
We shared laughs,
teases,
soft glances I tried not to overthink.
But the more I knew you,
the more my feelings grew.
You stepped a little closer.
Treated me like I was something more.
You said you’d never want to hurt me.
But here we are.
I reached out,
offering peace,
trying to show you that things could be okay.
And for a moment,
you had me fooled —
thinking maybe we could go back
to how it used to be.
But here we are again.
Silence.
Heartache.
Wishing.
I can’t be the one to welcome you again.
I’ve done my part.
I’ve shown my effort.
When it should’ve been the other way around.
Now I sit in the quiet,
just waiting for you to break it —
to show me a sliver of care,
to prove that this ever meant something to you,
the way it still means something to me.
Until then, I’ll stay right here.
Silence.
Heartache.
Wishing.
How much more of the quiet from me will it take
for you to finally notice the silence between us?
I used to be the one to break it — every time.
I opened the door. I softened the silence.
I gave you a space to come back into —
and you always walked in, but never stayed long.
But now… it’s just quiet.
And I’m not reaching out.
Not because I don’t miss you —
but because I do. Too much.
So I wonder…
How many days?
How many hours of silence?
How many ignored chances?
How much more of this quiet from me
will it take for you to finally feel the pull
and reach out to me first?
Or am I just the silence
you’ve already forgotten how to hear?
the older i get, the more i realize i just want a life that doesn’t feel like a chore