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Pretty sure this is supposed to be one of the best days of my life, so why do I feel so shitty.

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“fuck i’m so in love with you you can’t even imagine”

— (hatin)

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just saying

I can’t help but wonder if you still love me like I do you

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Esto 😍💕

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If you want to forget the boy who broke your heart, here are 10 things you should NOT do: Number 1, if you wanted to forget about him, maybe you shouldn’t have told your friends that you have a sort of frustrating crush on the guy you’ve been talking to lately. If you did, it’ll be the last time you’ll ever know peace. Before you realize it, your whole class knows, your teachers know, your family knows, your neighbors know–the president himself is in the process of knowing. Every time he walks by, you will be stripped of your composure. Your life will become a romcom onlookers tune in to.  2, do not think about the last text he sent you just before you go to bed. It’ll haunt you in your sleep and you’ll dream of his eyes, of his voice, the way his nose crinkles when he laughs, and it’ll leave you with fantasies impossible to come true. 3, do not stalk his social media accounts. Just don’t. Don’t look at his posts or, god forbid, his pictures. And for the love of all that is good, do not message him. It will lead to several awkward conversations that will leave you both giddy and mortified and you will find out that he uses too many emoticons and not enough words which means you don’t really understand what he means, but that he is more adorable than you first thought he was. 4, if you want to forget him, don’t smile back. Oh, it will be tempting, I know. After all, how can you resist when he smiles at you as if the sun itself resides in his chest? When he smiles like it’s the first and last time he will ever be happy? How can you not smile back, when he reminds you just exactly what happiness feels like? 5, do not associate songs with him. When your favorite song comes on, do not think of slow dancing to it with him. Do not imagine the two of you sharing earphones and listening to a playlist on repeat. Do not devote the lyrics like an ode to his laughter, do not think of him when you sing. Melodies are not supposed to echo a name.  6. do not name him “What If”. Do not think of all the ways he can make you better. Do not name him “Maybe”. Do not come up with reasons why he can love you just as fiercely. Do not name him “Almost”. Do not hope for something you damn well know could never be. 7, do not get jealous of the girl he laughs with. Do not compare yourself to the way she looks, how she’s thinner, prettier, more breathtaking than you will ever be. Do not look at his smile–it is the same smile he gives you. It is the same smile you’ve fallen in love with, the same smile you thought was meant for your eyes only. Do not get jealous of her. He was never yours to keep in the first place. 8, if you want to forget about him, do not cry over him. He’ll disappoint you again and again and again and I know it’ll hurt, god, how it hurts–but do not cry over him on the car ride home. Do not let them see that he has broken you. Don’t let them know you care. Don’t let heartbreak paint your face with mascara tears, do not cry yourself to sleep. 9, do not tell him how you feel. Do not tell him that he saved you when you couldn’t save yourself, don’t tell him you cared. Do not rearrange your words over and over in hopes his feelings will change. Do not wait for his answer. Do not save his reply, do not hurt yourself this way. You do not need a constant reminder that he does not love you back. 10, if  you want to forget the boy who broke your heart, do not write about him. Do not immortalize the way he stood, the curl of his lips, the shade of his eyes. Do not make permanent the memory of his last words as he said goodbye. If you want to forget, do not write him poetry. Do not surrender the beauty of your metaphors. Do not make symbolisms about his name, do not compare him to stars. He is just a boy, who felt like a miracle in what little time you had together. He is just a boy. Do not give him the power of your words. If you want to forget him, do not commit these mistakes. If you want to forget him, don’t do what I did.

10 things you should not do to forget (via smudgesofink)

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I want the cliche kisses in photo booths. And the candid photos of me when I’m not looking. I want the week long road trips with the windows down and my feet up on the dash. I want hands clenched tight when we’re intimate. I want shared showers the morning after. I want breakfast in nothing but oversized t-shirts. I want tv show marathons with extra buttery popcorn and makeout breaks during commercials. I want “I love you"s and “you’re beautiful"s and my name blended in curse words while you moan. I want time and promise and happiness and intimacy.

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Dazed and Confused

mIn this era of the normalization of side chicks, and the encouraging of sexual experiences despite body count, it’s hard to be a romantic. When your heart’s made of gold, all sorts of sketchy characters are drawn to you, hoping they can steal it and pawn it off for even a fraction of its original worth. As a girl who has been in countless abusive relationships, I can say with full conviction that the number of individuals worthy of possessing aforementioned heart of gold are few and far between.  I’ve been told I was delusional for thinking I could one day find someone to love me despite all my flaws. A hurting, confused, scared man told me that he only pretended to like me in order to use me as a punching bag for the abuse his dad doled out to him on a regular basis. My heart of gold chose to love him, so I stayed. He constantly reminded me of the discrepancy between our social classes, so I would never forget that he was a gift. I started dreaming in blue-collar. I was lucky he paid attention to me, because as he said, I wasn’t anything special to begin with. I’ve forgiven this man since, but the wounds he created never fully healed and I don’t believe they ever will.  After him came others. They came in droves of thoughtless manipulation, and my tender heart welcomed them in with every shuddering beat. I looked at them with stars in my eyes when they were the very reason the light was vacating my soul. Plunged into reliant darkness, I clung to them with all my hope and dreams of happiness. I persevered despite being knocked down, and accepted their outstretched hand after they carelessly let me fall. Time after time, I ignored the hurtful comments and the empty “I love you”s.  I allowed myself to buy into the myth of unconditional love while simultaneously ignoring the list of terms and conditions you drafted up. 

Nobody deserves to lay next to someone who hands out “I love you”s like tissues and expects someone’s all when they’ve only given a portion. Your words still echo through my head when I see a man look at me with liking, or when my cheek is kissed or my hand is held. I’ve stopped believing in sincerity. When a good one comes along, I probably won’t know, because I never learned “good” from you. When I feel those butterflies come, I’ll suffocate them with lust and desire instead of giving in. Fear will prevent me from loving, and I’ll only have you to blame.

So when he told me he loved me, I shut down. He’s never hurt me or made me feel insecure, he’s only made me feel cared about. Yet I can’t forget how it felt when you told me you loved me, and how much worse it felt when I discovered that love was false. When he takes my hand, I feel myself lock up in anticipation of the disappointment that was always imminent when I was with you. When he kisses me, I don’t kiss back. At least not right away, because I don’t want to humor the idea of love. Not even for a second. When he holds me, I’m constantly preparing to run away and never look back. I keep waiting for things to fall apart, because I was never used to consistency when it came to you. When you wanted me, I was always there for you. When you showed me off to your friends and touched me in ways you shouldn’t have, I let you. I let you objectify me, because I loved you.  I can’t love him, because for some twisted, fucked up, completely nonsensical reason, I’m still in love with you; and I hate it.

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Nearly Witches Live + Sub Ian Lore

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