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@av-xlinx

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unfortunately-so
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unfuck-it

you could literally love someone with everything in you and there’s a chance they won’t love you at all. I think that’s the scariest thing.

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shareaquote
Heartbreak is an odd experience. At 7am you wish you could snooze your alarm and hide from the sunlight. At 10 you feel unstoppable and like maybe today is the day the heartbreak will ease. At 1pm you’re crying at your desk silently, hoping no one will notice and at 2 you’re running to the bathroom because you feel nauseous. At 3 you feel like you can manage. At 5 you’re exhausted from your heart leading you on this emotional roller coaster and your brain unsuccessfully trying to take back control. Come 8 o’clock and you’re squeezing your pillow, howling out to the moon wishing you could feel anything, anything but this.

m.s  (via shareaquote)

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nakedly
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perrfectly
Sensitive people are the most genuine and honest people you will ever meet. There is nothing they won’t tell you about themselves if they trust your kindness. However, the moment you betray them, reject them or devalue them, they become the worse type of person. Unfortunately, they end up hurting themselves in the long run. They don’t want to hurt other people. It is against their very nature. They want to make amends and undo the wrong they did. Their life is a wave of highs and lows. They live with guilt and constant pain over unresolved situations and misunderstandings. They are tortured souls that are not able to live with hatred or being hated. This type of person needs the most love anyone can give them because their soul has been constantly bruised by others. However, despite the tragedy of what they have to go through in life, they remain the most compassionate people worth knowing, and the ones that often become activists for the broken hearted, forgotten and the misunderstood. They are angels with broken wings that only fly when loved.

Shannon L. Alder (via perrfectly)

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studyblr

me: i don’t care

me: i don’t care

me, internally, caring very much: kill me

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queensummit
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bunlly
Be like a bonfire, bright, warm and dangerous. For you are needed when you start and still wanted even when you are gone.

Etain  (via lazypacific)

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wnq-writers
Falling in love with you feels familiar- dog eared corners of my favorite books and the songs I know by heart because they’ll always be in my top played. Worn out patches on the jeans I haven’t taken off since the day you first kissed me. Falling in love with you feels the way a good cup of coffee warms up your body-slowly, then all at once. You feel like coming home and collapsing into bed at the end of a long day, calm rainy evenings with an old classic movie I know all the lines to. Falling in love with you feels easy. It feels simple. And it feels like home.

unspoken-ramblings, Deja Vu- I think I’ve been here before (via wnq-writers)

Source: wnq-writers
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extrasad
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)