i'll miss this okay

8

I decided to become an artist when I was about your age. I liked to draw so much, I almost hated to go to bed. And then one day, all of a sudden, I couldn’t draw anything. Everything I drew, I didn’t like. I realized that my art up to then was a copy of someone else, things I had seen somewhere. I decided I had to discover my own style. It’s still difficult. But then, the results… They seem to be a little better than before. It’s nice to be a witch, isn’t it? I like the idea - to be a witch, to be an artist, to be a baker… It’s an energy bestowed by the gods or someone, right? Though thanks to it, we do have to suffer at times.

I’m losing my fucking mind over you.
I still love you.
And, without lying to myself, I think I always will.
—  Nicole Torres // excerpt from a book I’ll never write; E.M //

It’s 4am and the drugs are all we have;

But the look in your eyes is the only thing that’s making my head spin.

—  Nicole Torres // ;4am drugs don’t compare; E.M excerpt
I’m scared to see what happens when I let you in. I’m weird and guarded and scared you’ll see what you weren’t expecting. I’ve never really experienced what it’s like to have someone look at me the way you do and that scares the hell out of me.

“are you okay?”

the words pierced through my soul and shook my whole body. i looked up at her but the boulder that had formed in my throat was not budging. here i was thinking i’d been doing perfectly fine with all of this but maybe that’s because no ones asked. as my eyes begin to tear and my hands start to shake while my whole body realises. i’m not okay. there’s nothing ‘okay’ about what’s going on at all. hell, i can’t even bring myself to say yes. it hurts. it all hurts and it doesn’t really get better.

—  no one asked.
sunshxnequote-s
Don’t make it easy for me to not talk to you anymore, I can’t stand it.

It was never supposed to be this way.
—  Nicole Torres // excerpt
It was my fault. I knew how you felt and I knew how I felt, but I acted like I could care less. It’s my first instinct not to show interest because I’m just scared of every little thing that could go wrong. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when I knew I should have.
I’m always thinking of you. There’s no reason for when or why, but I am. I could be doing work or at the grocery store or with our friends and you will pop into my head like it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s bad. Sometimes I smile and sometimes I want to cry. You’re always there even when I don’t want you to be.
Maybe I do still think about you a hundred times a day. Maybe I do still think of you when I do certain things, like wear my hair that way you loved or listen to a song you showed me. Maybe I do still cry sometimes, pieces of my heart rolling down my cheeks as fast as rivers. Maybe I do still feel that last kiss on my lips some days. Maybe I do still say your name a little sweeter than his. Maybe I am still struggling to let go. But at the end of even my very worst days, days when I saw memories of you everywhere I went, only heard your name in every story someone told, I’m still a little less broken than when you left me. I can breathe. I can laugh. I can get out of bed, put on my makeup, and make it through the day without crying all of it off. I can feel the cracks you left healing, feel my mind pushing you out a little more every day. I know I will wake up one day, maybe in a month, maybe in 10 years, but one day I will wake up next to someone who loves me just as much as I love them. Someone who will recognize that when I love, I love with everything in me. I don’t believe in holding back. I will give him everything, and he’ll love the good, and he’ll love that I’m honest about the bad. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I talk so much, and that my laugh echoes off the walls. He’ll spend his whole life loving that I’m clingy because he knows that texting him every 20 minutes when we’re apart is my way of saying that he’s the most important person in my phone. He’ll spend his whole life loving my big eyes and watching the colors change. He’ll spend his whole life loving my arms around him, and my late night “I love you"s, and my random bursts of goofy that he’ll never understand but he’ll love that it keeps him on his toes. He’ll spend his whole life loving all the things you did, but he’ll love them enough to know that someone like me can’t be replaced, and he’ll know better than to let me feel unloved. He’ll spend his whole life loving all of me. And on that day that I wake up next to him, I won’t remember the boy who took my love for granted when I was 17. But trust me, you’ll remember me. A small piece of you will always remember me.
—  I’m irreplaceable, you’re a dime a dozen
Her name dances off my tongue, tasting like honey- subtly sweet.
—  Nicole Torres //
When you find someone besides me, I hope she doesn’t write too many little paragraphs about you and in fact, I hope she doesn’t write at all. Because you don’t want to have to deal with another girl like me again. And if she writes I’m sure it’ll be all about your blue eyes and how good your arms feel around her waist and I promise you she’ll think too much and get too attached just like I did and I hope for your sake she’s nothing like me because you deserve better and I’m only lucky you didn’t realize that sooner.
—  (via revivee)