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You really don’t love me. I know it. I’ve known it. Something in my heart just wants you so badly. I can’t live like this anymore. I give up. Love her. Be with her. I won’t bother you anymore I’m too tired.

m.a \ I can barely breathe. (via fuckeverybody123)

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I had expectations for what my true love was supposed to be like, and when you didn’t meet some of those requirements, I didn’t care, and that’s how I knew I loved you.

D.N. // excerpt from a book I’ll never write #70 (via sundayepiphany)

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I wouldn’t think we’d talk again.
Or cross paths. 
Or hear anything about each other. 
I mean, after all that pain and heart break we’ve been through, would you go back?
I tell myself everyday that I’m much better without you. 
I tell myself everyday that I’m finally walking and my feet don’t hurt from the broken glass anymore. 
But maybe I’m only trying to convince myself to be something I want to feel. 
But maybe the only time I actually was ‘better’ was when I was with you. 
Nostalgia is a manipulator. It lies to us telling us that what was is always going to be better than what is. 
But the 16th falls and I feel like I’m back to square one with missing every part of you in my bedroom. 
I hear your songs bouncing from one wall to another. 
Your ghost lingers on this day. 

We can’t really lie though. 
We’ve tried to love people again. 
I’ve smiled at a couple of boys before, the way I smile at you. 
And I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed a couple of cherry red lips after me because they looked brighter. 
But then we come to this. 
When we’d wait for each other to knock on the door first and take a trip to memory lane hoping we’d start again where we left off. 
We’ll talk like broken records and laugh until our lungs would give out. 
We’ll remember all the old tee shirts and all the jealousy and all the post-it notes and breakfast meals and sleepless nights. 
We’ll remember the feeling of electric running through our bones. 
And we’ll realize how it never will feel like that again with anyone else. 
No one makes my coffee like you do. 
And no one will ever sing to you the way I do. 
But we’ll always sit in silence once we’re close to confession about still being in love with each other. 
We’ll both be too afraid to even jump to the idea of it no matter how much we’ve been wanting it. 
I spend Decembers wishing you’d come by my door with hot chocolate and we’d kiss under the mistletoe. 
But December is cold. 
And so am I. 

Maybe we won’t ever be, again. 
It will never be the same, you know that for sure. 
But if you tell me, right now, that you love me, I’ll say it right back without even thinking twice. 
And if you kiss me, I’ll kiss back. 
Because even if we caused each other the most amount of pain any 18 year old isn’t allowed to feel, 
you’re still my home. 
And I’ll always come back home.

The 16th (via um-lette)

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You used to kiss me like a lover but now you wanna talk like a friend.

k.r.b.// so don’t ask me why I’m upset (via katelovely86)

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