viinnttaaggee:

i’m trying really hard not to get hurt again

honigimohr:

i didn’t realize growing up meant dying inside but hey it’s whatever

bpdamn:

you see, the problem is: i don’t feel bad enough to be hospitalized, but i don’t feel good enough to be a somewhat functioning member of society either

cryptidtiddies:

me @ the demons that stand at the end of my bed:

it’s a lot warmer under the covers if you wanna come cuddle

llvm98:

museofaesthetics:

i want a soft connection. i want to be asked how my day went and if i need anything. i want forehead kisses. i want the back of my hand kissed at red lights. i want to be asked how i’m mentally feeling. i want to hold hands everywhere we go. i want romantic gestures. i want my hair played in at the most unexpected moments. i want silent eye connections that lead to smiles. i want to take random walks.

evanthology:

Tell The People You Love That You Love Them By Rachel C. Lewis, December 18th, 2013

jaclcfrost:

i have no clue what’s going on, ever, in any moment, at any point in time. who knows what’s going on? not me. not ever

drizzhled:

me: *a hopeless romantic without a single ounce of romance in her life*

sundewbaby:

Love and light yeah but also sacred rage and darkness

busonolsun: