Fall in love with someone who makes you feel invincible.Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #51 - "Keep him" (via blossomfully)
"Sometimes," she thinks, "he speaks like he could love me."
“He smiles and his eyes crinkle and I let myself believe that his fingers have wrapped themselves around more than just my hair.
"Because it is tragic," she says quietly, "to fall in love with beautiful words that have no meaning. And smart girls should know better than to arch their backs for boys whose palms press their necks instead of their thighs, and whose words touch their spines instead of their hearts."
"He laughs, and I feel each breath like a bullet to the chest.
"Because to him, I am nothing and I am everything.
"And I," she laughs grimly, "I just wish he would make up his damn mind, because I cannot be both and keep my sanity."Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #52 (via blossomfully)
Oh my god no.
WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT PRETTY OR SKINNY ENOUGH?!
Let me tell you a story.
This summer, I befriended a girl. She had the largest, prettiest, brown eyes ever and they lit up when she laughed.
And you know what? She wasn’t a model; not many of us are. But she was beautiful, because of her unassuming kindness. She joked about life, but took your problems seriously, and she talked to you with such humility, it was unbelievable.
You’d look at her and smile, because just being there made you happy.
She could outwit the sharpest politician and make the grumpiest old man laugh. And it wasn’t how she looked that made people fall in love.
See, skinny or not skinny, ‘pretty’ or ‘not pretty’ a human being can be beautiful.
Believe it because it’s true.
If someone makes you feel not good enough, they aren’t right. If a boy judges you based on appearance, they aren’t right. If you judge yourself based on appearance, you aren’t right.
The first time she said it, he was on the floor, looking for something.
"I love you."
It was quiet, as if a passing thought. But he froze, like it was the most important thing in the world.
"Say it again," he said, turning to look at her.
"I love you." She whispered.
And there was something about the way she sat there, quivering like a leaf, that made him want to sit down and hold her forever.
"I love you I love you I love you."
She was getting much too brave, and the words rolled off her tongue like they’d been waiting for a long time to be heard.
"I have been too afraid all my life." She said. "But I am tired now. Screw building walls and hiding emotions.
"I am fucking terrified, and perhaps I don’t know much. But I love you," she laughed. "I know that I love you."Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #55 (via blossomfully)
You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.Ten word story - It me took too long to learn this (via blossomfully)
I genuinely believe the first person you give your heart to is special.
They get your innocent vulnerability, before you’ve been hurt enough to feel bitter and before you learn to guard yourself from the world.
They see you at your softest, most raw. You are - if you’ll pardon the bluntness - easy.
You fall simply, without a single care. You love like it’s the only thing worth doing and you hope like nothing’s impossible.
So the first time someone really breaks your heart - it’s going to hit you like a tidal wave and knock the breath out of you. If you don’t feel like you’re dying, it isn’t love.
You’ll fall for someone again. It just won’t be the same. But you know, that’s just life: two things never happen the same way. It doesn’t mean it won’t be just as good.
The eyeliner streaks on my face make me look a bit like the joker. I don’t mind this particularly. Maybe now people will stop asking if I’m okay.
It’s raining outside. I think perhaps even the skies are crying for you. Can you hear them?
I threw that bear you gave me across the room and one of his button eyes fell off. I think that broke my heart more than you leaving.
My mother says she is concerned for my mental health. I am laughing, a little too loudly, and telling her I am fine. I don’t tell her I am worried too.
I played my music a little too loudly and woke the entire house. I’ve been told to get a grip. This song reminds me of you.
I am exhausted, but not from sleep deprivation. I am exhausted from feeling too much and not feeling enough. My lungs are collapsing and I wish I could stop clutching at empty spaces as though they were your hands.
I have so much left to tell you and the walls are terrible listeners. But at least they won’t leave. Come to think of it, they are better listeners than you ever were.
It’s almost light. I am going to watch the sunrise by myself and perhaps today I won’t feel so pathetic. Perhaps this is me finally getting over you. Yeah. You never deserved me anyway. Screw you.
Well, that was a stupid thought. Come back. Please come back. I swear we can start over and pretend this never happened. We can do everything again and this time it will work, I promise.
Oh god. You’re not coming back are you?Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #36 (via blossomfully)
Oh no. Oh.
I don’t know what to say to this.
Sometimes when I cry I like to sit in front of a mirror and pretend I’m in a movie. That always makes me laugh because it’s so ridiculous, but I suppose when you’re alone you do ridiculous things anyway.
Other times it’s more of a throw-your-head-back-and-wail type of crying. That’s not so funny. Here’s a tip: to get rid of red eyes, take a shower.
In any case, thanks anon. You made me happy, in a weird sort of way.