those who matter don't mind.

i'm 19 and currently taking each day as it comes.

I hate that I’m the type of girl who still feels a kick in her heart every time she sees a picture of a boy who stopped loving her 100 pictures ago.

— 2 days ago

lntelligent:

sometimes people are like sunshine and sometimes people are like rainclouds but thats ok because both are important to make the flowers grow

(via happynessy)

— 2 days ago with 322398 notes
"He was running his hand up my thigh.
I was wondering
what his voice would sound like
if he told me I was interesting.
He was drunk when he first kissed me.
I’m still dreaming
of what sober lips taste like."
— 4 days ago with 246 notes
to all the fillers

To you with the blonde hair and green eyes, a crush tangled in the ugly realm of the friend zone. I’m caught in the smoke of your nasty habits, your silent intrigue, ever fascinating. I will never admit to myself that you won’t have me. I will always laugh a little louder; my voice will always go an octave higher when you’re near. One day you’ll realize how perfect we could be. Or maybe you just won’t; that would be ok too. 

To you with the headphones, sitting next to me in class. For 6 months I wondered what it was you listened to before class until one day you leaned in an whispered to me that there was no music playing in your ears. You just liked to be left alone while walking through campus but that if I ever needed you, I would know that you could hear me. Thank you for trusting me with your secret, I want to know the insides of your mind even though I barely know your name. 

To you with your drunken professions of love, I appreciate the sentiment, I admire the determination, I envy the courage. I apologize that I cannot believe you. I just don’t think that you know my ugly parts well enough to draw that conclusion. Or perhaps I am just opposed to the fact that something like love will ever actually come into my proximity. Or maybe, even more frighteningly I am scared that you “love” me for something other than my mind.

To you who I met online, thank you for reminding me that possibilities are endless. That there are all kinds of people everywhere just waiting to have their stories heard. It’s ok that it’s never worked out; it’s ok that I won’t see you again. It’s ok. It’s ok. Thank you.

To you, the one who woke up in my bed, the phi delt, the sigma chi, the rugby player; the blonde, the brunette, the ginger. I won’t remember your face; you’ll blend with the others and become a blur of bad college decisions. The scent of you on my sheets won’t linger for long. But thank you for the things you have provided me: the confidence, the fleeting affection, the sense control. Mistake you may seem, but regret I refuse to let you be. 

To you, with my v-card in your back pocket. It’s funny that I haven’t seen you in years, funny that you didn’t call back, funny that it doesn’t matter. I was only 16 then, just a kid. Everyone thinks it should’ve destroyed me; assume I’m in denial when I say it didn’t. But to be honest I’m glad that you have my virginity, it takes the pressure off of the impossible promise of forever. 

To you, the one who isn’t here anymore; know that you still haunt my dreams. Know that my thumb hovers over your name in my phone aching to call, to hear your voice again. I think of you from time to time, or more honestly, all the time. I imagine our reunion every night before I drift to sleep. It would seem the best solution would be to let you go, forget everything that ever mattered between us but I like having you tucked away in my heart.

To all the men who have waltzed so carelessly in and out of my life, you are just fillers, just lessons, just experiences that shape my life. Thank you for being part of my ride. 

— 5 days ago
"The world is most beautiful at 4 AM because people are asleep and nature is wide awake."
— 5 days ago with 33529 notes
"

The first night we slept together, you cracked open my chest with your lips, thinking love would be inside. You tried to reach at my heart and massage the love out of it. But it wasn’t there. All my love for you was a fire in my stomach, a kind of nuclear fusion for the soul. This was a feast and I had come to dine on you.

But long before you ever wrapped your arms around me, we were deeply intertwined. When two celestial bodies orbit, they are constantly falling towards each other due to gravity. The only reason they avoid collision is because of their previous momentum always propelling them forward and away. I love that. We were always falling towards each other, for each other. And everything that we had ever been up to that point—every mask we wore, every scar that was handed to us, every human heart that had ever grazed us—gave us the momentum we needed to not collide, to stave off self-destruction.

We are born into this world with ravenous appetites. And it didn’t matter if we were naked or in a bookstore, I never stopped wanting to sink into you, to learn the map of your enigmatic mind, to explore the continents on your skin.

"
— 5 days ago with 363 notes

avolating:

do u ever love a celebrity so much it makes you sad

(via sexdruggie)

— 5 days ago with 104274 notes