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~Giornate piene di niente~

@jaylenmarie123

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‘I think about your thighs,’ he wrote in the second letter, and the warm, moist smell of your skin in the morning, and the tiny eyelash in each corner of your eye that I always notice when you first roll over to look at me. I don’t know why you are better and more beautiful than anybody else. I don’t know why your body is something I can’t stop thinking about, why those little flaws and ridges on your back are lovely to me or why the pale soft bottoms of your New Jersey feet that always wore shoes are more poignant than any other feet, but they are. I thought I would have more time to chart your body, to map its poles, its contours and terrains, its inner regions, both temperate and torrid - a whole topography of skin and muscle and bone. I didn’t tell you, but I imagined a lifetime as your cartographer, years of exploration and discovery that would keep changing the look of my map. It would always need to be redrawn and reconfigured to keep up with you. I’m sure I’ve missed things..or forgotten them, because half the time I’ve been wandering around your body blind drunk with happiness. There are still places I haven’t seen.

Siri Hustvedt, What I Loved (via wordsnquotes)

Source: wordsnquotes
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I am slowly learning that some people are not good for me, no matter how much I love them. I deserve someone who is gentle and kind, because my soul is getting tired. Realizing that I deserve something good is one of the first steps.

Michelle K., Why I Need to Say Goodbye To You  (via wordsnquotes)

Source: wordsnquotes
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Someday you’re going to wake up and actually grab breakfast. The morning is going to go well and you may even feel happy. Maybe that day will be the day you are strong enough to accept that you still miss them. Maybe that will also be the day you will be wise enough to know it’s not right to you. And Maybe that day you will take your first true step to finally move on. Relapses are not signs of weakness. They are only an indicator that you’re trying. Please remember that.
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You are  a pretty little woman.  No man could ever love you  like that. Like the way you write him  poems,  like the way you swallow your tears for him. Like the way you bleed for him. Sinfully and beautifully, like a pomegranate  in paradise.

When A Woman Loves A Man by Royla Asghar  (via poems-of-madness)

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When I say I miss you, it’s much more than that. I want to wake up next to you, every day. I want to hold you in my arms when you’re having nightmares during the wee hours. I want to spend all the good moments with you – even the bad. I want you to witness my clumsiness and laugh at it because we’re comfortable with each other’s flaws. I want to spend every day with you because I want to get used to your scent like it’s the only thing that I’m addicted to. I want more lazy days with you. I want to come home to you after a long, tiring day from work. I want your arms to hold me tight when I’m about to give up and you’ll be there pushing me and motivating me that I can do better. I want to rest my head on your chest and stay there until I fall asleep. I want to roll over the other side of the bed and hear your breathing as the sun kisses your cheek at 7am in the morning. I want your face to be last thing that I see before I doze off every night and wander to dreamland. I want everything with you. And when I say I miss you, it’s almost close to saying that I love you. and I want to spend my tomorrows with you. I hope it’s not too much to ask.