quote from the art book

Have you ever platonically fallen for someone?
For the things they say and how they can always cheer you up, no matter the circumstances?
For how you can count on them and the way they get so enthusiastic about the things they love?
Have you ever watched someone without them noticing and just felt your heart burst of love for everything they do and everything they are, feeling incredibly proud to have them as a friend?
Have you ever been in awe due to the feeling of being blessed by the sheer existence of another human being?
—  // friendship
I have a love-hate relationship with being alone. Yesterday, all I wanted was my friends. Today, all I want is to burn every other person on this planet to ash, so I don’t have to see anyone ever again.
—  Journal Entry; Summer 2015

in another universe,
you are in love with me,
and I fall asleep every night
next to you.

but in this universe,
I fall asleep every night
wishing I was there

—  tjr 12/12/16
People say to fall in love with someone’s eyes, because they are the only thing that don’t change. But what happens when their eyes stay the same, but the way they look at you doesn’t?
—  won’t you look at me the way I look at you?// 2.1.17

I constantly waited for a text, I waited for a call. Maybe even a knock on my door. I waited for a long time, longer then I should’ve. But it never came. Why didn’t you ever come?“ she asked. Finally working up the courage to give him a piece of her mind.

Looking down at his hands he answers, “I wanted to, I wanted to so bad. To tell you how sorry I was and that I’d change and we could work it out. I wanted you back. It killed me to not do anything but I knew you would be better off. You couldn’t last forever with me. I wanted you to be happy, and I knew that couldn’t be with me.”

“You don’t get to decide if I was happy. It wasn’t up to you to decide if you could’ve made me happy. You were my happiness then you were gone. You broke me and you never even said sorry.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered.

“Well you did, and it’s to late to fix what you did.”

I knew I was in trouble when you reappeared in my dreams.


You’re not just in my heart, you’re in my mind now too. 

What could I possibly do
when my heart is slowly shattering for you?
When there’s this burning in my heart
and sparks lighting up the dark?
Believe me, I just want to learn
what it is about that burn
that makes its way inside my chest,
preventing me from getting rest.
Would you ever take my hands
to keep me warm
and keep me safe?
—  // broken
Just hearing your voice makes me so happy. I’ve found that once we start talking, I never want to say goodbye. The nights feel ten times lonelier when you don’t call. The days drag on when you take hours to answer my simple texts. Once I get attached, I’m here to stay. And I hope it’s the same way for you, because I don’t know if I would be okay with you coming and going so quickly, with no intentions of letting me know what’s going on in that beautiful, complex mind of yours.
—  slowly becoming attached to you // 11.29.16

I like stars more than anything else. I watch them as I fall asleep and wonder who lives on them and how to get there. The night sky looks so friendly with all those little twinkling eyes.

— Snufkin, Comet in Moominland

I want to lie down, to go to sleep. But my problems don’t sleep with me. They relay round my head, each time going faster.
—  Classy
She loves only whole heartedly, not half not 3 quarters but whole. She will love you with everything she’s got, she will love you with her mind, body and soul.
—  Tenari Ioapo
She stays up waiting for him to call, waiting for him to answer, waiting for that one goodnight text. She’s left alone in her bed, as she painstakingly waited for him all night, only for him to go to bed without calling. They haven’t talked in hours, days, and what’s seemed like weeks. He once told her he loved her, so why didn’t he show it now? Maybe after all this time they’ve been apart, the feelings dissipated. He forgot how beautiful her smile was, how much he said he loved her eyes, and how different her voice was in person. And as he was slowly forgetting her, he didn’t realize that he was also losing her. He didn’t realize the love he had with her until he screwed it all up. Well there you go, and I sincerely hope you’re happy. You lost someone who could have been your entire world, if only you let them in.
—  1.24.17 // for maggie: love is difficult, but it’s also worth fighting for. But the battle is that much more difficult when it’s only one-sided…
It starts like this: She’s sitting across from you, and you’re watching her like you may never see her again. You study her every detail in hopes of burning the shape of her lips and the curve of her face into your memory, but you know the minute that you look away, she will become a blurred outline of the girl you remembered. It’s like you spent so much time painting this perfect picture of her, and the moment you step away, you plunge the canvas underwater, and the paint rises, and it falls apart. She’s no longer perfect, and who are you kidding? You never were an artist, but like I said, it starts like this: She’s sitting across from you, and you’re sitting across from her, and you can’t help thinking that she could be the next goddamn Picasso, but she would never pick up a brush or even attempt to mold clay into the shape of your jaw or the slope of your nose. You both know that memories fade and the paint will peel, but she’ll forever be a mess of reds and yellows smeared across a blank wall in your mind, and you’ll make her a glorified fucking masterpiece while you’re still an empty sheet of paper with no potential and no desire to be filled.
So take a deep breath because it ends like this: You’ll look down at your hands, and they’ll be covered with the colors that she was, and she’ll stand up, and she will walk away from you, and her hands will be clean. And it’s not her fault that she never wanted to paint, and it’s not your fault that you don’t have a damned clue how to hold a brush. Some things just are, and with her, you are not.
—  H.L. // excerpt from a book I’ll never write #39 // the eye of the beholder
In another world, we meet in a coffee shop in college. We come from different states, maybe even different countries. We have different friends and different homes and somehow, things work out for the better.

In another world, we meet in high school. You’re older and I’m new and everything goes the way it does in the movies. We kiss at prom and live happily ever after.

In another world, we meet as adults. Maybe we work together, or have mutual friends, or maybe we just bump into each other in the street and fall in love.

In this world, we meet as children. Too young and wide-eyed and empty, waiting for life to fill us with who we are. We know nothing of life or love, but we know everything of each other. In this world, though, that is not enough. So I cannot help but imagine a different one.
—  EMJ // Another Page In The Book