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@lovelymsabby-blog

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thesecretletter
Its been a year and if I close my eyes long enough I can still remember how it felt to have my head against his chest. How soft his clothes always were, how I could hear his heartbeat, how his breath smelt good as he exhaled. God, I loved him. Its been a year now, and I can still remember the way his hands felt on my hips. I can still remember how it felt the first time he ever kissed me and how I said ‘thank you’ afterwards. I loved the way he made my knees weak.Its been a year and I can still remember the way it felt when I found out he had been fucking her. My heart, ripped out and thrown to the ground. Stepped on and shattered. Her, that disaster of a human being. Its been a year and it still breaks my heart to think he chose her. Its been a year and I don’t remember what his voice sounds like and I find myself looking everywhere to find a video I had of him speaking. I desperately want to his voice again. I used to love his voice. Its been a year and i’m slowly forgetting all the things he used to say to me but seeing him still makes my heart drop. God, I loved him…But he preferred bronze when he could’ve had gold.

Your secrets are safe here (via thesecretletter)

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reblogged
She didn’t look like those girls who seemed to show no evidence of flawed dna, she didn’t even look close. She had a crooked smile and her hair was really frizzy, but god, she was so beautiful. When I made jokes about myself, she would laugh and her eyes seemed like there was so much in them that I had yet to learn. When I took walks with her, she would grab my hand and lead me to this fountain in town that she admired for being elegant. When I would invite her over to my house, she would be so polite and neat, even though that was never her. She would ask my mother how her day was and ask where she used to work. Eventually, my mother sat me down and told me not to lose her. She told me she could feel the love this girl had for me, that when I was cooking or just tying my shoes, she’d look at me like I was mesmerizing; like something you found so beautiful, you had to take several pictures of– and she did, she’d photograph me when I was talking to her, when I was driving, when I was dancing, and when I kissed her. And oh god, did I kiss her. I never felt like I could touch her enough. I’d kiss her when she was changing, and when she was sleeping. I’d kiss her when she was doing math, and when she was on her phone. I’d always kiss her. I always felt the need to give the affection she deserved; the affection she never received before me. I wanted her to know that those silly men before me weren’t all that existed. That not everyone will hold you down and tell you that you had to do what they said. That not everyone will slap you across the face when you make them angry or push you around. I wanted to be the man that kissed her when I was angry, because even though I was mad, I still loved every part of her beautiful soul. She was so beautiful, so breathtaking, and I knew i’d never find another like her. I didn’t want to, and if I ever lost her, I wouldn’t know what I’d do. I never even wanted to think about that. She was mine for now, and hopefully always.

I hope I get this one day (just an excerpt to a something I’ll never finish)

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meth-notmath
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nakedly
Youre my favorite person. My favorite person to look at, to listen to, to talk to, to be with, youre my favorite person to miss, to love, to be everything. youre my everything. I want to give you everything I have. I want to share my life with you. To make more lives with you, cute little babies. I want to make memories with you, so I can look back in 50 years and be sure I havent missed out on anything because all I’ve wanted is you

midnight texts (via nakedly)

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The longer I gaze into the night, the more stars I begin to see. As the glances turn into looks, and the looks turn into stares, I see more of what I had not been able to before, and I guess that’s how he was to me; the more I studied him, the more I saw, and the more I saw, the more I knew.”
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“… And so maybe a happy ending doesn’t include leaving the darkness to be lit up by the brightest of lights, maybe a happy ending isn’t based off running the world word by word, and maybe a happy ending isn’t a perfect relationship.
Maybe the happy ending we all need is letting go, and falling in love with the world and yourself, getting rid of the toxic people in what you call a life. Maybe the happy ending we all need is to love one another, and to become one with who we’re too scared to be.”
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The ‘original’ concept of a hero includes a cape and super powers, but in my book, a hero is what gives you reason to be, someone who can make you smile even on your worst days, and even that, I’d consider a super power. A true hero does not and should not always be paired with the idea of higher-than-average strength, a hero should be considered one with the ability to make your life worth living, whether someone else is needed to be your hero, or it’s yourself.
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“I can’t tell if I’m the one who’s not good for you
since my insecurities run my life and I keep everything hidden
how could you not go insane?
I’ll push you as far away from me until I get scared enough to crawl into your lap
i hope you’ll hold me like you thought I wasn’t ever coming back maybe you’re bad for me
with your “occasional” drinking problem
if occasional meant every day 
you’re so scared of opening up that I can’t tell if you’re on the edge of running away
you’re so concerned with other people’s thoughts of you, you’re not yourself we’re so bad for each other
you have me drinking more and more
I have you crying on your basement floor
too bad we’re both too selfish to end this
too bad we’re too consumed with our own lives
too bad we’re not trying to be in love
too bad that the effort we put into each other is based on boredom
I can’t tell if you’re too bad for me;
like you’re bringing me down with you
there’s a possibility you have always been down
maybe I just jumped to keep you company”
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I choose to love you in silence, for in silence I find no rejection.
I choose to love you in loneliness, for in loneliness no one owns you but me.
I choose to adore you from a distance, for distance will shield me from pain.
I choose to kiss you in the wind, for the wind is gentler than my lips.
I choose to hold you in my dreams, for in my dreams, you have no end.
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But I always end up choosing you. & even though we set boundaries & talked about it, this isn’t a friendship, this isn’t a hookup. You’re blurring the lines when you say, “I can’t imagine my life without you” or when you pull me closer to you when we’re sleeping. & that’s how I’ll end up in love with you all over again. So stop it.
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When you get angry at me for ignoring your calls because I am buried so far behind the bathroom walls, please - love me anyway. When you get mad because I keep misinterpreting your words, because I have a habit of thinking the worst, please - love me anyway. When I am clutching at my own skin like it’s an enemy; when I am hiccuping so violently I can’t speak; when I look at you like you’re a stranger and I can’t breathe; please please please love me anyway.
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“Do you ever think about how no one really knows you? As in, they don’t know how mean you are to yourself; they don’t know what you were dreaming about last night; they don’t know about the things that make you ashamed. And on the one hand you wish there was someone who knew you inside out, but on the other it’s terrifying because if they leave it just confirms that you ought never have shared yourself like that to begin with.”
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“You are fragile but you are alive. You hurt like every other human being, sometimes for days at a time. One day you’ll meet a pain that doesn’t go away. Tell it, “I may be small but I am strong,“ face it head on, say “I am a contradiction in a shell. That’s what makes me dangerous.”
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killme-ithurts

I’m the type of girlfriend who always just wants to annoy you like let me hold your fucking hand and let me just hug your back and put my head under your shirt or bite your shoulder or bite your nose or hug your head or some shit idk i love you hoe

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Some friends don’t understand this. They don’t understand how desperate I am to have someone say, I love you and I support you just the way you are because you’re wonderful just the way you are. They don’t understand that I can’t remember anyone ever saying that to me. I am so demanding and difficult for my friends because I want to crumble and fall apart before them so that they will love me even though I am no fun, lying in bed, crying all the time, not moving. Depression is all about If you loved me you would.
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“I’m sorry Mum, but this world is just not my place,
I’ve tried for so long to fix this and fit in,
I’ve come to realise this world’s full of sin,
There’s nothing for me here, I’m just a waste of space,
I’ve got no reason to stay here with this awful race,
It’s a disgrace, I was misplaced,
Born in the wrong time and in the wrong place,”
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Self-sabotage is knowing exactly what you need to do to improve but not doing it. It’s procrastinating doing the very things that you know will make you happier. It’s waiting till things are 100% perfect till you do them, but that of course never happens. It’s remaining in the comfort zone because of the fear of failure or uneasiness of change. It’s a mindset that you may be completely unaware of until you really think about it. So think about it. Are you a prisoner of your own thoughts? If you are, take responsibility and acknowledge you put yourself into that prison. But know that you have the power to free yourself.
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I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up every inch of my head and I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up slurring her name in your sleep. If my veins are fucked up and filled with something I bought on the street in the middle of the night then maybe it won’t be so bad when I start bleeding again. If I’m gone, you’re not. If I’m not trapped between my own bones maybe I won’t be trapped under your fingertips constantly pressing against me with the poison of missing you etched under your fingernails like dirt. I’ve taken up drugs the way you’ve taken up missing my calls. And if I’m too fucked to remember your number, maybe it won’t hurt as much when you don’t answer.