“This is why it hurts the way it hurts. You have too many words in your head. There are too many ways to describe the way you feel. You will never have the luxury of a dull ache. You must suffer through the intricacy of feeling too much.”—Iain S. Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via sunst0ne)
“It’s like I’m reading a book… and it’s a book I deeply love. But I’m reading it slowly now. So the words are really far apart and the spaces between the words are almost infinite. I can still feel you… and the words of our story… but it’s in this endless space between the words that I’m finding myself now. It’s a place that’s not of the physical world. It’s where everything else is that I didn’t even know existed. I love you so much. But this is where I am now. And this who I am now. And I need you to let me go. As much as I want to, I can’t live your book any more.”—Her (via quotewhore)
“Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breathe in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes.”—The Winter of the Air (via beamuppet)
“Her heart sank into her shoes as she realized at last how much she wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that she would ever let him know, but only that he moved her chemically more than anyone she had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him.”—F. Scott Fitzgerald (via quotewhore)
You know you’ve reached a new low when your Netflix stops working and you decide to call support and you end up flirting with the operator for a good 10 minutes after you’ve already figured out the problem. Oy.
Some of you may think it’s meant for you. Or you may think it’s meant for someone else. But it’s not. It’s for him.
With all forms of secret communication suddenly cut off like a kink in my flow of oxygen—I’ve had trouble breathing today. But I want you to know I’m okay… and my apartment is now impeccably clean. Yup. I scrubbed the shit out of every dirty window and sucked up every piece of dust and washed every dish twice.
Because I’m not talking to you. And this head has too many words that are committing suicide. And I don’t want to waste the day in mourning.
I am writing this for you and you will never get to read it. I am writing this for you and I’m a stupid little mistress. I am writing this for you in hopes that you can somehow feel it.
if someone tells you you’re beautiful, you tell them they are too. if someone says they love you, decide if they mean it before you say it in return. if a boy tells you he’d date you if you didn’t smoke, light a cigarette and walk away. if your mother screams at you because she’s had a bad day, close your eyes and leave her to her anger. if last nights lover doesn’t call you back, do not cry and blame yourself.
“People have different ways of showing their love. And no matter how it is, the best thing to do is to be contented. Stop measuring. Stop comparing. Why? Because, love is always equal as long as it is real.”—(via icanrelateto)
“Before I met him, I would dance in the shower. When he was in my life, I would think about showering with him. After he left, I would sit on the ground in the shower and cry. When I got over him, I showered so quickly there was no time for dancing, fantasies or tears. Someone can invade the smallest parts of your life, you won’t even realize it until you dance in the shower again and wonder why you ever stopped.”—(via sleepychick)
I didn’t know it at the time. And I still don’t fully understand it. But that night would linger inside of me like a bad hangover. When I close my eyes at night all I see are those castle walls. All I hear is that Irish music. All I can taste is your laughter dancing along my lips.
I wish your lips were mine to kiss. I want to taste that night fresh forever.
Our little bar table was littered with Smithwicks, cheap whisky, and witty bantor. And now I would do anything just to be a glass on your table or candle on your nightstand.
We never did find the ghosts that we were searching for, but you’ve startled a few inside of me. They won’t let me sleep. The castle that haunts is now haunting me.
This isn’t going to work.
We can’t pretend a friendship when there is passion and chemistry and spirit leaking at both ends.
I can’t not talk to you. Not after everything. Not after this.
Lines have been blurred and crossed but oceans have not.
Isn’t that boundary enough?
This isn’t going to work. My heart just won’t quit on you.
“now my heart is a pressed flower in a tattered bible
it is the one verse you can trust
so I’m putting all of my words in your collection plate
I am setting the table with bread and grace
my knees are bent
like the corner of a page
I am saving your place”—Andrea Gibson - Maybe I Need You (via just-breezy)
“Lately I’ve been thinking about who I want to love, and how I want to love, and why I want to love the way I want to love, and what I need to learn to love that way, and how I need to become to become the kind of love I want to be. And when I break it all down, when I whittle it into a single breath, it essentially comes out like this: before I die, I want to be somebody’s favorite hiding place, the place they can put everything they need to survive, every secret, every solitude, every nervous prayer, and be absolutely certain I will keep it safe. I will keep it safe.”—Andrea Gibson (via allthingsandreagibson)
“Sometimes we get sad about things and we don’t like to tell other people that we are sad about them. We like to keep it a secret. Or sometimes, we are sad but we really don’t know why we are sad, so we say we aren’t sad but we really are.”—
Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time