quotingfangirl

[quotingfangirl]

And yet, you kept going.

Unknown

[quotingfangirl]

(from Samuel Beckett's poem, "Cascando")

[quotingfangirl]

it actually completely unironically pisses me off that there was times when i wasn't alive and there will be times when i'm not alive. i should have been there for everything

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

Oh ok so it turns out ive been borrowing grief from the future ! it turns out ive been preparing to lose the things i love rather than basking in the light of them while they last. Maybe i should nt do that

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

(from Samuel Beckett's poem, "Cascando")

[quotingfangirl]

[quotingfangirl]

I want you to text me, but I know we shouldn’t

Text me when the ache of my absence stirs your heart.

[quotingfangirl]

“People always say that it hurts at night and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken. But sometimes it’s 9am on a tuesday morning and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know what to do with your hands.”

— Rosie Scanlan, “On Missing Them”