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Just Another Oh Idk Blog I Guess

@dillybillydo-blog

I do not own anything just reblog stuff
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“Why do you want to be friends?” He demanded. She just stared at him for a long time when finally he broke the silence. His voice now a softer tone. “I hurt you. No, I was worse… I broke you. I can’t imagine why you don’t hate me right now.” He said, looking more hurt than she was. “I don’t hate you. For a while I did, but I learned that I can’t change the past. We broke up for a reason and I can only move forward and come out of this a stronger and better person. I’ve come to accept that you’re not mine anymore, that you have your life and I have mine. I couldn’t make you happy and I accepted that there’s someone out there that will. Being friends will be hard. I know. It’s also going to be a little awkward and at times a little confusing but I love you enough to let you go.” She paused watching his face intently  “When you stopped loving me, I wanted so badly to stop loving you too but I’ve come to terms with myself that it’s okay that I love you. You taught me a greater love, a love that is beyond myself. I love you enough to be in your life, to support you and to watch from the sidelines even if that means watching you love someone else.” She laid her heart out in the open to him but she didn’t regret it this time.

Prettywordsfromabrokensoul | From An Excerpt From a Book I’ll Never Write #8 (via prettywordsfromabrokensoul)

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I watched you look at her from across the ballroom.  “I know that look” I thought to myself I’ve seen it on your face before but this time it was different.  Maybe it was how the dim lighting made your eyes gleam as she gracefully flowed in a white gown toward you.  Or maybe it was the stars in your eyes that sparkled when you found the universe within her.  I know that look.  But maybe it’s different because I’m watching you look at her the way you use to look at me.

prettywordsfromabrokensoulFrom an excerpt of a book I’ll never write #1 (via prettywordsfromabrokensoul)

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In that moment I knew he was in love. It was in his eyes and how he looked at me, tracing my lips and cheek with the tip of his thumb. The soft tug of the corners of his mouth formed a gentle smile.   It was overwhelmingly intense; a look of complete adoration.  As if the mundane features before him created the most magnificent creature. He’s in love with me.  I know.  Because it was the same look on my face when I looked at you almost three years ago. “He’s in love with me” I thought, trying to grasp the reality of it.  You never once looked at me like that. So as I stared back at him, my heart whispered “Finally”

prettywordsfromabrokensoul | Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #10 | Thank you for giving me the love I deserve (via prettywordsfromabrokensoul)

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She’s in love with a boy who never fails to make her smile. A boy who always brightens up when she’s around and asks her how her day has been. He walks her to her next class carrying her books. He walks with her everywhere, holding an umbrella over her if it’s raining. He never swears and is always polite. On weekends, they cook new things together, or they go on walks, or they go to secret coffee shops they haven’t told their friends about yet. They have baking competitions, get in flour fights, and slow dance in the kitchen. He sings sweet songs to her when she’s feeling down, and they sing together at the top of their lungs when they’re happy. He never acts too tough in front of his friends, but yet he’s not weak, he’ll always protects her. He’s everything I want and everything I can’t have because they are perfect for each other.

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write, 19 “I’m looking for someone who treats me the way he treats her” (via secretlywanderlust)

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2:39 a.m. - you called me tonight. What an ungodly hour, my mother would say. It took everything in me not to answer. We both know that that’s not what either of us need right now. I told you I’d always be there for you and right now the only way I know how to do that, is distance.

-C.C. You made it this way.

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A friend of mine asked why I still write about her and how come I’m not over it after six months. I wish I could answer you with a simple reply, something easy for you to tell others, something that won’t cause me to lose my mind. I still write because I still feel. I still write about her because I still feel like I’m hers. I’m not over it because even if the sun stops shining for a day, due to heavy rain and named hurricanes; it’s still the sun. I still love this person. Who she was as dead as she is; when I see that smile. You all know that smile. The smile. The sparkle. The one made from paintings hung in prestigious museums. We all have that smile we still love. Always love. Never stopping. Always beating. Never breaking. Always breathing. Never leaving. Always love. Never ceasing. We all have our favorite smile stories, some of us just don’t kiss them anymore. That’s why I’m not over it. And I might never be. No, probably not. Fuck it. But if you wanted to know the short answer, the one you can swallow.

Well, it’s because I still love her. (via poetryleftbyher)

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“Call me sometime,” he whispered, meeting my gaze. But both of them were too afraid of what they could be together. Both of them were afraid of being heartbroken. He thought she belonged with the stars and she thought he lived among the sea. Destined to forever gaze upon the other but to never collide. His phone never rang.

perhaps things would be different if it did//excerpt from a book i’ll never write #17 (via featherypen)

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crystalake
I was afraid. Afraid of not waking up to anymore ‘Good Morning’ texts. Afraid of not hearing the words ‘I love you’ more than five times a day. Afraid of not having anyone there to listen to my worries and complaints. But surprisingly I’m doing okay.

Just thoughts in my head (via zgya)

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What do you prefer? Day or night?“ He asked. “Night” I responded immediately without thinking. “Why?” He asked back with a smile on his face. “Because, the sky looks much more beautiful at night, I’m always fascinated every time I look at how the stars decorate the sky in different ways. You?” “There’s no difference, because I found something that distracts me from both,” His eyes darkened as he took a step closer to me. “and it’s you. You’re my sky.

Infinite excerpts. (via infiniteexcerpts)

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When he saw her for the first time, he saw her as a sun flower; beautiful, strong and unique, but when he dared and came closer, he realized that she was the sun. The sun itself, he didn’t even find the words to describe what he saw, so he watched in silence. He was burning, but ironically he only felt warmth.