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That Calabasas 'cross the sweatshirt I wear it to a meetin' like a dress shirt Top shotta put the pressure Jamaican nigga with the mesh shirt There's levels to my retail The devil's in the detail Niggas be typin' hard as hell Goin' heavy metal on the email Niggas be so emo Catch feelings like a female Get quiet as a church mouse Phone soundin' like a seashell Niggas get so choked up I had to bring back the Spreewells #hailye

#hailye

I threw out the letters, deleted your pictures.. But please.. Please! Tell me how to get rid of our memories?

#percys posts #hailye #i dont wven know how i feel anymore?

a shout into the void (failed to send) ↔ mail to: shailene woodley

So, here I am, putting pen to paper and actually writing a letter. I don’t think I’ve done this since I was probably about six and I still believed in Santa Claus, and I made my mother take me down to the local Macy’s store to deliver my letter in that giant inbox thing they had set up in the store during Christmas time. I’m actually completely embarrassed about that, by the way, so please don’t ever use this letter against me as future revenge for something. I have the most strongest gut feeling that the workers there just dug through all the letters kids put into that damn box and laughed at a good percentage of the shit kids wrote in ‘em, and to be honest, I don’t even blame them, since I would probably end up doing the same thing right now if I were ever given the chance. I probably asked for the lamest things, like Matchbox cars or something… I don’t know. Anyway, what I meant to say was this is actually a pretty big feat for me, and you should feel extremely lucky that I’m doing this – especially since my hand cramps easily when I write for long periods of time; but I’ll push through any amount of pain for you. And I’m certainly not the greatest writer, since I can never seem to form complete sentences with you, so please bare with me as you read this mess of a letter you somehow wanted to get.

Things between the two of us are different now, but I don’t exactly mind the change. Like we’ve talked about before, it’s inevitable and apart of life, just like loss, love, heartbreak, and disappointment, all that junk we’re forced to deal with as human beings on this Earth. We don’t really get to choose when these things happen to us or how, or if we’re ready or we’re not, but I guess that’s what makes all of this exciting. And if we’re being honest with each other, I think this is probably some of the best change that I’ve ever had in my life. I’m sure you’re thinking I’m speaking out of my ass, and maybe I am, but I’m just writing down some thoughts, which I’m sure is what you wanted out of a letter like this anyway. A lot of times at night, I think about the first time I met you and how nervous I was, and you went to hug me and I was far too nervous to, and you believed you’d end up hating me – thank God your assumption was completely wrong. Well, you could secretly hate me for all I know… But let’s hope that’s not the case.

You’re something that I’ve never come across before in my life – a rare specimen in all its glory when you walk before me, and I’m probably the luckiest person I know. Of course you’re going to say I’m biased and yeah, you’re probably right, but I could honestly care less, since I’m not too full of myself to admit I know I’ve got someone amazing. Never have I ever met someone like you – someone so selfless and full of heart, honesty and just all these things that I truly don’t believe I could ever be. I guess that’s how we balance each other out. You’re sweet and sincere and kind; everything that’s good in this world I forgot existed. Then here I am, this tall, lanky, awkward sarcastic asshole who covers up any true emotion with some lame reason as to why I should. I over-analyze and over think and psyche myself out. I piss myself off with my own creations and beliefs of how things are in my head, and I end up screwing a lot of people over, myself included. But I’m tired of doing that now. It’s gotten old and pretending to feel things and not feel things is pointless. If I have someone that I’m so terrified of losing – and believe me, I do – than I don’t see why I should be wasting these thoughts without at least attempting to put them out into the void. I think most of the time I hide them because word vomit is not my friend, ever, and I don’t want to speak to soon, jump the gun and just mess things up overall. It’s a terrible habit and you need to believe me when I say I’m working on it.

I remember when I read TfioS for the first time, this part stuck out to me. Immensely, actually: “What else? She is so beautiful. You don’t get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices, I hope she likes hers.” I just had to grab my copy of the book to write that. Little did I know I would go back to it over a year later and feel so connected to it, all because I’m dating the girl that got to be my Hazel. Funny how life works, innit? I’d never get tired of looking at you. Your smile, the way your eyes light up, the crease in your cheeks when you laugh. God knows I believe you’re smarter than me, and He knows I’m right, too. You have such a dry sense of humor, and I love it. I love when you swear and it’s probably the cutest thing, even though you’re not even trying. I think I love you. I think I’m falling in love with you, and that scares me a whole lot. I’m trying to restrain myself from bringing that word up, but it’s a big word and I think anyone that falls in love is a fucking idiot – but I am pretty stupid, so that explains that. I don’t want to scare you off. I’m glad I chose you to hurt me. I don’t think I could handle it by anyone else, and I don’t think I’d want to, either. I watched the movie Her the other night, and someone said this line: “The past is a story we keep telling ourselves.” I believe that so much. I wonder if you do, too… I can keep telling myself that this is like the rest, this is just some cliché with a weird twist, or this will end up just the same and to keep myself guarded, but that’s pointless. I’m just holding myself back from loving you completely, aren’t I? That’s what you deserve. Someone who loves you with their whole heart without question, someone who’d drop everything to go with you to see your sick aunt. Someone who will hold your hand when you’re scared and hold your head to their chest without saying a word, just ‘cause sometimes, silence is all the therapy someone needs. You deserve someone that compliments you and defends you, yet can be a complete ass at the same time, just to keep you grounded. You deserve someone who hugs you so tight you’re almost positive your insides will pop out. You deserve someone who knows they’re lucky to have you as their own, and you deserve someone who won’t ever forget that.

I believe I can be that person for you.

Now, I know I just sort of ignored the fact I told you I’m almost positive I’m falling in love with you, but we can save that conversation for another day, a day way, way in the future so I’m sure you won’t even want to acknowledge that I said that. In fact, you can just pretend I never wrote it, that’s fine with me. I’m sure I’ve got your thoughts all riled up now, so I’m sorry. But this was extremely long and basically all I really meant to write you was that I’m happy with you. So happy. And I’m hoping that you’re happy with your choices, too. I’m here, and I’m yours and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Okay?

- Ans

#thoughts and shit #??? technically? ?? maybe #a letter lol #HAILYE #@ u #croSSED OUT IS STUFF HE WANTED TO ERASE BUT COULDN'T BC PEN SO U CAN STILL SEE IT ?? ? This was dumb i hate mysel #rl hazel grace