“She told me once that she liked mornings. The small window of time at sunrise brought her a short reprieve of calm and clarity, before her anxiety really got rolling for the day. She said that she felt like herself in those moments at dawn, and for awhile, I think she was living for those moments.”
“You must learn her. You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her.”
— Junot Diaz, (this is how you lose her). (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
“I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible. Because one day, I might get hit by a bus. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands. But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate. And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care. We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans. We never know when the bus is coming.”
I am so full of love I spill it wherever I go. Stain your clothes, even the sky. But I’m also very, deeply scared of contact and emotional exposure and these two sides of me tear me apart. Because if I were to love someone, I’d love them
so
fucking
much.
But I also want to run the moment someone shows me their heart. How do I fix this?
Sad people don’t look sad at all. They should’ve warned us about this all along. Sometimes they laugh the loudest, they even crack the best jokes. They come and go, never telling their story. They touch their hand to your shoulder, they listen to your words. It’s heartbreaking how we must be both bright and dark at once.
I try so hard to be soft and kind, but I’m really bitter and cynical and way too rough inside. There should be a comfort, some kind of, “you’re doing your best” for people that can’t be warm and good like that but still try to be so anyways.
