things i needed to hear (as conversation hearts)
taylor price
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Misplaced Lens Cap

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@premyslim
things i needed to hear (as conversation hearts)
I need long hugs, night walks , and late night talks
“If we don’t end up together and we belong to other people please tell your kids about me. Tell your daughter to be fearless but also build walls around her so guys won’t break her heart like you broke mine. Tell your son to be tender and consistent in every decision, to listen to what his heart says and not what everybody else tells him to, like you did. Tell them that for every person there’s another person who would go through everything just to be with them, like I did for you. Teach them that giving up on the person who sees the world in their eyes just because times are hard will make them drown in regret, like you probably are right now. Most importantly teach them to be fighters and not quitters on that certain person who goes to hell and back, like I did.”
— (via our-fuckedup-life)
“When I saw you first, it took every ounce of me not to kiss you. When I saw you laugh, it took every ounce of me not to fall in love. And when I saw your soul- it took every ounce of me.”
— Atticus (via lovelustquotes)
I did the being edgy and self-deprecating thing, it gets old. I wanna be soft and lovely and easily impressed. I wanna appreciate all the little things that make me happy the same way I’ve dwelled on every single thing that upsets me.
found this in my high school bathroom stall //
“It goes like this: he holds you like a question mark and you never wonder why. Lanky limbs and cold coffee, but when he presses you close, you forget to ask where he goes in the middle of the night. No promises, he says, and you think that’s sweet. Because maybe the world is cruel and some prettier girl broke his heart. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. Whispered, half way past the moon, an I love you followed only by breathing. And even though you know he’s awake, you learn how to pretend. It goes like this: he doesn’t come back one day. He grows out his hair and starts smoking on the patio of someone else who believes in mending broken pieces. Your mother says she told you so, and your friends pour tequila down your throat like some kind of consultation prize. They tell you he’s a fool, and you let them think you agree. And you tear, and you crash, and you crave, but you survive. At night, you whisper this into your pillow, and begin to remember that he smelled like secrets and women and somehow, you confused this with hope. It goes like this: he holds her like a lifeline and you begin to wonder why. But chicken legs and frigid waters, you always knew you weren’t enough. And when you forget how to pretend, curled like a child under the covers of a bed that is suddenly bigger than all the world, you’ll learn how to forgive yourself or maybe just how to hate yourself, but at least you’re beginning to understand yourself. Let me tell you a story I wish I’d known. It goes like this: we break our own damn hearts.”
—
love note pngs
(reblog if used!!)
“The only obsession everyone wants: ‘love.’ People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you’re whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You’re whole, and then you’re cracked open.”
— Philip Roth, The Dying Animal (via books-n-quotes)
Book Recommendation: No One Ever Asked by Katie Ganshert
we fell together so easily was all. like you belonged against me. i don’t usually trust people like that. i don’t usually let people near me. something about you was a soft spot, an opening. i don’t know if i believe in soul mates. but i know how i feel around you.
“you’re wasted the first time you kiss her and her mouth tastes like a galaxy of smoke from inhaling cigarettes in your basement and exhaling them into your lips as your blinds crash against the window pane and when you tell her about the time you got arrested for smoking pot on your rooftop when you were seventeen her laughter makes you feel a little less insane and a little better about your parents’ screaming and you don’t know how to explain it but when she touches your neck it burns your throat like setting fire to an abandoned building and then rescuing you from the smoke the first time you realize she is broken she is high as hell sitting next to you at the bar drinking a rolling rock and laughing with your friends about how sometimes death looks like love in retrospect and when you take her home with you that night her hips feel like tectonic plates but for once you are not afraid of the earthquake she is all love and you are nothing but an addict going through withdrawal shaking and stirring and now you can’t sleep without her in your bed and you wonder if it’s the whiskey talking but you think maybe this could be good for you maybe this could be good maybe you could love her the way you think she should”
— big hearts, empty veins
“I can tell you’re not yourself lately and I hope wherever you’ve gone, you feel free.”
— R.M. Drake