Nunca no te estoy extrañando.

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Cosimo Galluzzi
Today's Document
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@putoelquelea
Nunca no te estoy extrañando.
I need to learn to let go of the things that have broken my heart
Nunca te extrañé tanto como cuando quise contarte algo y ya no estabas ahí para escucharme.
Elbubol / 16:46-Miércoles (via yo-y-mi-vida)
Que diferente te mira alguien cuando en realidad te quiere
(via delicxt-e)
i. meeting you: when I saw you, the world didn’t reroute on a new axis but the stars seemed to glimmer a little more than I remembered them doing the night before. from the moment our hands brushed, something in me shivered, some part of my heart shook, a form of a yes. a yes, you belong in my life, a yes, you are meant to matter. but we clashed in a storm of fire and ice and it took me what looking back seems like a lifetime to realize that you’ve changed me, that a part of me recognized your scars as the same as mine the moment you spoke a part of my name. ii. understanding you: it took breaking, it took sobbing in the middle of night and realizing that yes I can be alone with you. it’s this moment, where I see you looking at me, not like you can save me, no. but like you recognize the shadows dancing on my skin, the faint bruises and clenched fists and the ache inside my heart. And the world grows quiet, like it’s giving this moment the weight it deserves, and it’s in the darkness that I realize we can change the universe. iii. trusting you: and our hands grow bloody as our hearts open, spilling part of us on the ground that the other picks up and remakes. forging a sword, a shield, a song out the echoes we let break away from our souls. somehow I realize the voice in the back of my mind, giving me hope, giving me faith, sounds a lot like yours, it sounds like the way you say my name and I say yours the same way. as absolution, as something almost like salvation, as a need that I can’t live without iv. loving you: and it’s when you’re threatened, it’s when you’re hurt and the rage that raises up inside me contains the bitten scream of “mine”. it’s when you take my hand, you take my burden like I haven’t transformed myself into atlas to save you. It’s when you gaze into my eyes like i’m something worth worshipping, like i’m something worth burning the universe for. and it comes and goes in waves until one day I wake up and my first thought is you, and when I dream the last name I utter is yours v. losing you: but the stars that stayed silent at our turning point aren’t content to watch us, no they want to test us but they didn’t understand that loving you stopped being something that scared me the moment I realized it because, darling, I don’t know where you end and where I begin. so yes, I lost you to space and time, I nearly lost you to fate but we were always fighters and so I know you’ll come back to me, I know you’ll come home to me. and our devotion outstrips the fairytales because we were never guaranteed a happy ending, with our dirty hands, with our sly smiles, with our cuts and scars but we’ve made the constellations want to chart our names + vi. finding you: when we crash back together, the world narrows down to the sound of a beating heart, pounding loud enough to be a greek chorus and it’s a welcome change from the way my chest seemed empty. I always knew that in a crowd of thousands I’d be able to meet your eyes, to find you. and with our smiles the universe restarts, with my name dropping from your lips the sun reignites, because we are the center of the story, from the beginning up till now and we’re only just past the first chapter.
The 5 Stages of Loving You by Abby S (via fireandsteelofangels)
Every ocean deserves to be seen by you
And there was nothing poetic about wanting to kill myself and writing so many suicide notes in my head explaining how sorry I was for the things I did not become. There was nothing poetic and beautiful about crying myself to sleep every night for the past 5 years hoping someone would care enough to save me. No one saved me. No one was going to save me because there is nothing poetic about thinking you can’t be saved. There is nothing poetic about staring at a blank wall for an entire day or smiling and laughing the next and having people think “oh she’s fine.” There was nothing poetic and beautiful about trying to take my own life. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about my mother having a panic attack every time I have a bad day and lock my door. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about me not taking my pills because I don’t know who I am without this sadness. There is nothing poetic and beautiful about having depression and wishing you were dead. There was nothing poetic and beautiful about my depression or anyone else’s depression nor will there ever be anything beautiful and poetic about it.
Fuck anyone that says it’s beautiful//Deeply Feeling Series (via promisesofamazing)
Me atormenta tu amor que no me sirve de puente porque un puente no se sostiene de un solo lado.
Julio Cortázar (via belle-indifference)