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@juststay-keepmesane

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I’ve been making a list of the things they don’t teach you at school. They don’t teach you how to love somebody. They don’t teach you how to be famous. They don’t teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don’t teach you how to walk away from someone you don’t love any longer. They don’t teach you how to know what’s going on in someone else’s mind. They don’t teach you what to say to someone who’s dying. They don’t teach you anything worth knowing.

Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones (via feellng)

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I love when we’re driving in your car and you hold my hand in yours. I love when we have endless conversations about life, love and everything else in between. I love when we talk about our past with different people, insecurities set aside. I love it more when we talk about our future, together. I love when you turn my frown upside down and wipe my tears away. I love when I ramble on and when all the words are done tumbling out of my mouth you smile and say ‘I love listening to you talk’. I love when we’re watching serials together in bed and you suddenly say ‘Baby, you look so pretty’. I love when you kiss my forehead and tell me I’m special. I love when I’m with you.
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For the rest of my life, I will always wonder why things seemed to be so unfair. I will always want to know what I did to deserve what happened to me. I will always wake up thinking everything is okay, later on realizing that it isn’t, and that it most likely never will be. I will cry about it, and I will be angry. I will always have problems trusting people. I’ll never think that anything will last. Friendships, and relationships, all of them just seem doomed. But I still try. For the rest of my life, I will try.
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alonesomes
My mother tells me that when I meet someone I like, I have to ask them three questions: what are you afraid of? do you like dogs? what do you do when it rains? of those three, she says the first one is the most important. “They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.” I met you on a Sunday, right after church. one look and my heart fell into my stomach like a trap door. on our second date, I asked you what you were afraid of. “spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.” I asked you if you liked dogs. “I have three.” I asked you what you do when it rains. “sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.” he smiled like he knew. like his mom told him the same thing. “how about you?” me? I’m scared of everything. of the hole in the o-zone layer, of the lady next door who never smiles at her dog, and especially of all the secrets the government must be breaking it’s back trying to keep from us. I love dogs so much, you have no idea. I sleep when it rains. I want to tell everyone I love them. I want to find every stray animal and bring them home. I want to wake up in your hair and make you shitty coffee and kiss your neck and draw silly stick figures of us. I never want to ask anyone else these questions ever again.

Caitlyn Siehl, “Three Questions” (via mystiquel)

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This is usually my favourite time of year. Everyone’s decorating for Christmas, we are all waiting for that first snow fall and everything is just happy. But not this year. While everyone’s busy buying Christmas presents I’m busy trying to figure out how to enjoy everything when you’re not here. This time of year is supposed to be about being around the ones you love but the one I love can’t be here. Tell me how am I supposed to be happy when I’m all alone.

4am (via 3am-4am-5am)

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I can’t thank you enough for giving me your heart. And I know its a little messy. But that’s ok. Because I cherish it. I want the happy parts, the loving parts, the amazing part. I want every broken piece, the weak pieces. I want the holes and the scars and the locked up pieces. And I know its fragile, but I’ll take the best care of it. Always.

letters from my best (via katherinehenson)