One morning you’ll wake up and you’ll think, ‘how did I get here?’ You’ll inhale a long drag of smoke through your lungs, and before you can exhale, pictures from your life pop into your head. Behind each picture lies a story. The first picture you see will make you smile. The image will remind you of a time when you were happy. Actually happy. The kind of happy that makes you jumble your words, the kind of happy that makes your insides twist, the kind of happy that makes you use the word ‘forever.’ The next image that pops up shows you your lowest low. The kind of low that told you to slit your wrists, the kind of low that makes you pull your hair and scream, the kind of low that never wants to know how long forever is. Then you’ll look around you and you won’t know whether to laugh or to cry. And you’ll think ‘I’ve loved and I’ve hated.’ And you’ll realize that you wouldn’t have to hate if you never knew love.
— (via theflightout)
(via ilovetypinglikethis)
People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that’s bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they’re afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.
— Jim Morrison (via atomos)
(via ilovetypinglikethis)
And as I get older I think — can it really be love if we don’t talk that much, don’t see each other? Isn’t love something that happens between people who spend time together and know each other’s faults and take care of each other? Still, by the time I’ve had my share of boyfriends, I discover that even the ones I truly love never bring on the same kind of feeling that I get when I think about him. In the end, I decide that the mark we’ve left on each other is the color and shape of love. That’s the unfinished business between us. Because love, love is never finished.
— Sara Zarr, Sweethearts (via daphneemarie)
(via ilovetypinglikethis)
Mistakes.. We all make them. They usually start with the best of intentions. Like keeping a secret to protect someone.. or getting some distance from the person you’ve become. Sometimes we don’t even know what mistakes we’ve made to get us where we are.. or we figure it out just in time to make it right again. But every mistake happens for a reason - to teach you a lesson you would otherwise never learn. And hopefully you’ll never make that mistake again.
— Gossip Girl (via runawaytrain)
(via ilovetypinglikethis)
I realized that I hate telling people I love them (for the most part). It’s not because I’m cold-hearted or don’t love anyone or anything, it’s just that it always feels fake to me, and I guess it is on many occasions. I would rather just do things for you that I would do out of love, and have you interpret on your own that I do love you, maybe with verification every now and then, rather than just say it without meaning over and over again.
I guess it’s also because so many people have perverted the term. I have heard too many people say it to the point where it hardly means anything anymore. When you say “I love you” to me, does that mean more or less than when you say it to someone you also say you hate? It makes no sense. Basically, I appreciate when you tell me. I do. But please at least show me as well. (And most people who say it these days do. So thank you. But this is just something I think of whenever I write “I love you,” those few times that I do.)^
(via ilovetypinglikethis)
