“When is happiness going to stop swallowing me from head to toe and then spitting me back out like I am expired? I am tired of having hope for a couple of days and then spiraling towards a case of frustration and confusion.”—Alexa Evangelista (via vodkakilledtheteens)
“I hope one day
of your skin
and it doesn’t
haunt your mind
every single second.
I hope one day
you don’t call
your body his
yours.”—Alexa Evangelista, you deserve better (via cinnabeun)
ppl who think that saying “I love you” to someone a lot makes it lose it’s meaning are so boring literally what could make you think that? if someone tells you they love you like 3 times in an hour it means that 3 separate times they were sitting there and thinking about you and how wonderful you are like. smh. say I love you to everyone that you love as often as possible bc sometimes it’s easy to forget that there are people who love you
“I did this radio show and the deejay asks me, ‘What if you woke up tomorrow and you were beautiful?’
What do you mean ‘what if’?
He said, ‘What if you woke up and you were blonde and you had blue eyes and you were 5’11 and you weighed 100 pounds and you were beautiful? What would you do?’
And I said, ‘Well, I probably wouldn’t get up ‘cause I’d be too weak to stand.’
And I felt very sorry for him, ‘cause if that’s the only kind if person that you think is beautiful, you must not see very much beauty in the world.
And I think everybody is beautiful. And if you don’t think that I am beautiful, you are missing out. Because I am so beautiful.”—Margaret Cho: Beautiful (via her0inchic)
i always think “if people want to talk to me they will” which is my reasoning for never really starting conversations so i’m permanently thinking no one wants to talk but what if they’re sat there thinking the same and it’s just this cycle of silence that never gets broken because i’m too stubborn to just put myself out there
“Calling all ladies in Dallas!! All single ladies!! Jamie Benn, 6’2, 210 lbs., is single and so down to mingle!? Please take him away before Tyler Seguin gets to him even more. Please!! Very eligible!! Most eligible!! Please!!”—dallas stars probably (via bruinuck)
When I think about never speaking to him again, I picture a girl walking in a crowd that’s all moving in the same direction, and then suddenly she drops everything she’s holding and turns around and starts running as fast as she can, smiling and pushing past everyone till finally she reaches an open space and her face looks like sunshine as her hair blows behind her in the wind and she’s free she’s free, oh God, she’s free.
But then I think about walking into a doctor’s office ten years from now and sitting on a cold metal table, staring at my legs dangling off the edge, waiting. And then I look up as the door opens slowly, not expecting to see his tattooed arms hidden in a lab coat, but there he is and, oh God, his eyes haven’t changed, and I can’t breathe, and he just stands there, looking at me like an unfinished sentence. Then I’d have to let him put a stethoscope to my chest and listen to my heart and I wonder what it’d sound like, if it would sound like messy half beats of missing him. If he’d be able to tell. If he’d care.
Or maybe the next time I see him, if I ever see him again, we’ll both be whole versions of ourselves, content and in good places, our lives all sorted out and how we always hoped they’d be. And maybe we’d be able to talk about the weather and our kids and the lives we created apart. And maybe I’d be able to look at him with only feelings of pleasant acquaintance and relative indifference, not seeing the boy I fell for when I should’ve been focused on catching myself.
And I know I should find comfort in thinking about how one day I may look at him and feel nothing,
but it’s four in the morning and I don’t want to let go.