#firemeetsgasoline

[cloudsareblockingthesun]

Vergiss in deinem eigenen Streben nicht, weiter wie ein Mensch zu leben!

[airalyn]

#firemeetsgasoline #sia #sialikesfire

[mrchandlerbings]

Could you suggest me a program or a website where I can make gifs? The 100 😍

hey! Here you go two tutorials (1) (2) 

[maysileedonners]

Could you suggest me a program or a website where I can make gifs?

I use Photoshop cs5 but I think Gimp lets you make gifs too? There’s also these websites but I’m not sure how well they work. Sorry if that didn’t help!

[amina19899999]

Hurt me #firemeetsgasoline

[thedateriots]

The Breakup

I saw him see me through the cafe window. I spotted him as I walked across the parking lot. His salmon colored button-up shirt just barely breaking through the tinted glass. And I looked away.

I walked up to the counter and ordered a tea. I said hello to Katie, the cafe manager, and my boss. But not to him.

I had decided to write him off yesterday. He’s probably into another girl, or he’s too religious, or maybe I’m too hung up on my ex. I don’t know. I decided not to want it. I decided to leave it be. So I didn’t say hi.

But he did. It could’ve killed me. He turned around, his face suddenly brighter. He smiled, “Hey! How are you?” And he did that killer thing boys do when they are unmistakably intrigued by you. That thing where they they light up from the corners of their eyes and grow a inch taller when you walk in the room.

That sort of thing that sucks you in, but never lasts.

I excitedly tell them both about my morning, of how I had been caught in the rain. Not just a rain, but a downpour. It had appeared out of nowhere. As the clouds had grown closer, everyone at the park walked back to their cars, but I walked to the lookout tower. I climbed the stairs quickly to face the rain as it blew in. The massive cloud covered everything on the horizon and I stood, watching, until the clouds became so dark that my heart started to pound. And then I ran. Down the stairs, my skirt catching in the wind, but I was no match. The sky opened and I stood drenched, feeling alive for a second. Feeling the weights in me breaking away for a moment so I could breath. And then slowly heaving back on my chest.

But that is not how I told them the story. I painted it cutely, and I watched him smile at my self contrived wildness. “That sounds awesome!” and It was.

I grabbed my tea, and went into the bookstore far away from flirtatious glances and cute jokes. I wondered if what I saw in his eyes was real or not.

I wondered whether or not feeling a new person’s skin would feel kind or like dying.

I’ve only been single for a little over a week now, somehow it feels like a year. My ex contacts me everyday. He hangs our friendship suspended over me, a strange ghost of what we were, and at the same time something completely new and awkward and suffocating.

Initially I tried to replace him with novels. I went on a book buying spree. At first buying anything with a white cover. A 900 page Murakami, Moby Dick, 2 books of poetry, and one by Junot Diaz called “This is how you lose her.” (which I’ve considered sliding beneath my ex’s apartment door multiple times.) I opened each book hungry to find any words that would stick to my slippery heart. But none did.

Then I started eating. Ice cream for breakfast, fuck it I’m eating a donut for lunch, Indian for dinner. I refused to cook anything for myself for days. But then I stopped eating. I started instagraming. I obsessively liked posts under tags like “adventure” “san francisco” and “california”. i escaped in my mind to other places where succulents grow as tall as cars and the hillsides grow golden in winter. Somehow this has helped a little. I find myself scrolling Instagram every 20 minutes, instead of texting him.

He was the only thing that had stuck these last few weeks. His kindness and this odd revival of our friendship drew me back into his bed. We stayed there, tangled in our skin and heartbreak for 8 hours. Our talks looked something similar to many of the first nights we spent together. Our words were raw, vulnerable, and less filtered than before. I asked him questions I never would have dared when we were together: about girls he had slept with, girls he loved, and girls he missed. He answered honestly.

It was on that day that he finally admitted I was right about us. he agreed that we had lost our closeness. We kept our friendship, barely, but what was more was we lost our reverence for each other. Instead of growing in each others presence we had started becoming so small that the only thing to do was cut our losses.

It was bittersweet. Being wrapped in his arms, feeling completely in love with him all over again. But this time, instead of chasing that feeling, I would be walking away from it. For good.

The memories of that day sat heavy in my mind as I sat in the bookstore. Every so often I’d catch the salmon pink shirt of this someone-new through the bookstore window. I went back in a few times willingly. To flirt. To drink coffee. To say smug things in jest. To imagine a life where he and I started something completely new and happy. I looked for things in him that I never saw in my ex.

I left the cafe but did not say goodbye. I wonder if he’s wondered about me at all. I wonder if he’s wandered into my dreams like he has somehow wandered into mine… I wonder if I should change my facebook status to “single”

But mostly I wonder, upon kissing someone new, would I melt? Or would I cry?

I guess there’s only one way to know.

-Midwest