jiatherockstar:

nothing in the air
that night suggested that love
was heading my way.

jiatherockstar:

the thing about love:
it keeps you warm when it lives,
and cold when it leaves.

jiatherockstar:

i miss you too much
surely this cannot be good
for my mental health. 

cuntented:

Grilled cheese with tomato soup

jiatherockstar:

I tried to imagine all the words that could be used to describe her. Soft, enigmatic, wonderful, loving. All these words with different vowels and consonants and meanings but still my mind settles gently on one: “mine”. 

topographe:

in the moment of not knowing (hey i have a book now)

graceyeoh:

Home is always a
place, ‘til magic happens and
it becomes a person

52hearts:

I guess in a way, sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re the first or the last, you just want to be the one that sticks. You don’t want to think that those quiet nights reading alongside each other on the couch, or those mornings you spent rolled up into each other like a cocoon never wanting to ever get up and those train rides you took home together sharing the stories of your day didn’t mean anything. You don’t want to think that these small, miniscule moments didn’t mean anything at all, because in a way, I think that hurts more, than the separation itself, than him or her meeting someone else. The forgetfulness of it all—that you were once of importance to someone in that way—in a way that you thought you’d never really forget at all.

jiatherockstar:

can i just say that
i am obsessed with seeing
you sleep in my bed?

writingsforwinter:

I know your body is an apology

but you can’t keep handing it over

every time somebody says something

to be sorry for.

wow.