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ionicsky:

sunlightcomingthroughwindows:

It’s so hard to fall asleep at night. Every position I roll into, I know how you form around me but you’re not here to hold me. I miss you so fucking bad; there are universes, gardens, villages dying inside of me. I promised myself I would never get attached to someone like this. But you were so beautiful, so calming. When we touched, I could feel myself grow warm and I thought I would be okay. Now I’m laying between cold, wrinkled sheets and I can still taste you on the tip of my tongue saying, “I’ll miss you but we’ll be okay.” 

summer has begun but it’s a cold, long winter in my heart.

ionicsky:

sunlightcomingthroughwindows:

It’s so hard to fall asleep at night. Every position I roll into, I know how you form around me but you’re not here to hold me. I miss you so fucking bad; there are universes, gardens, villages dying inside of me. I promised myself I would never get attached to someone like this. But you were so beautiful, so calming. When we touched, I could feel myself grow warm and I thought I would be okay. Now I’m laying between cold, wrinkled sheets and I can still taste you on the tip of my tongue saying, “I’ll miss you but we’ll be okay.” 

summer has begun but it’s a cold, long winter in my heart.

lovefeedsme:

truth.

(Source: stankonia)

gabbyroars:

lordflacko91:

Random text from some one special, as you can see I like it

it was me.

You’re the only person I want to see when I have a headache—that’s a compliment—

Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vita Sackville-West (via halluzinogen)

(Source: violentwavesofemotion)

(Source: infamousbelle)

(Source: hvrdstyle)

(Source: dreams-season)

(Source: captainfabfro)

thecollection613:

con-la-muerte:

xkittykaattx:

sasstrid-and-dorkcup:

madehimsaycomfychairs:

floacist:

iwishitwas1983:

I’m crying.

LMAOOOOOOOOO the screaming in the beginning

"mr. owl"
"oh jesus christ"
"please don’t give me that look"
"please don’t fly"

DYING omg

That owl is 30000000% done

every time this video graces me with its presence i feel obliged to reblog it

never fails 

Lolol omg I’m done

Reblog every time

(Source: becausebirds)

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

Here is the simple truth about people: Love the ones you want to keep.

Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via larmoyante)

And every single thing you ever did that bothered me, is every single thing I miss.

Iain Thomas, I Wrote This For You (via larmoyante)

And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

Khalil Gibran, The Prophet  (via larmoyante)

(Source: sexandanothercity)

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