you lay waste to the world & everything in it.


1,535 notes "Water the plants. Call your mom. Check the mail. Write Erika a letter. Do not check to see if he’s called you. Take a walk around the park. Look at flights to cities he never set foot in. Do not allow your finger to tap out his name as you make a rhythm of checking your phone again and again and again. Buy groceries. Make yourself dinner. Do not berate yourself when, without thinking, you make enough for two. Do not use the extra food as an excuse to dine with his ghost. Put on the smooth jazz radio station and resist the urge to let your hands rest in the still-remembered areas he once occupied. Dance alone, not with the air. Quit telling yourself it still smells like him. Stale coffee and secondhand smoke were always your thing, not his. Take a bath. Blow dry your hair. Towel off his memory. Mouth “goodbye” so many times that it becomes muscle memory. Climb into bed and read poetry. Leave him in-between the pages. Leave him hanging off the last sentence of the last poem’s last stanza. Leave him, you deserve a good night’s sleep tonight." — To-Do List | Lora Mathis (via lora-mathis)

(via diaryofa-dangerousmind)

138,316 notes "Delete her number.

Stop ringing her. Stop messaging her. Stop making excuses to see her, to drop by her place.

Erase her name from memory. Remove yourself from her life, more completely than you would like but as completely as she deserves. Move on, so that you can allow her to also move on. When you close your eyes, you don’t get to see her face. Not anymore. You don’t get to think about her lips, the warm glow of her skin when she rests next to you, or how she squeezes your hand in her sleep. You are not allowed to remember the smell of her perfume, that she only drinks mint tea (with two dollops of honey), or that she loves you.

She loves you.

She has been in love with you for too long.

So, forget how she says your name. Forget how she calls your name. Forget how she screams your name. Forget that time you got sick and she stayed up with you all night, letting you lay your head in her lap and holding a cold compress to your forehead. Forget how her hair feels in your fingers. Forget how she looks in your sweatshirts.

Forget her.

Know only that she existed at one point in your life, but relinquish all hope that she could exist at another point — sometime in the future that you are unwilling to specify because you don’t know what you want. Yet. It is not fair for you to swoop in and out of her life as you choose. It is not fair for you to say that you are satisfied with “things as they are” and you will have time to “figure it out” later. Let her stop investing emotionally in you. Let her pour that love and care into the people who deserve her.

Don’t tell her that you think about her all the time. Don’t tell her that it bothers you to hear about her with other people, but that you’re willing to understand as long as she likes you more than them. Don’t tell her that this isn’t the right moment but that there will be a right moment. There is not going to be a right moment. She shouldn’t have to wait for the right moment.

Don’t tell her that you can’t handle ultimatums, that you don’t like the idea of finally adding finality to your relationship — whatever still remains of it.

What you are telling her is that you want to keep her on as an option, that you are taking her for granted, that you want to know she will be there, that you can depend on her at the end of the day. When you find that no one else has stuck around or that those who have are less interesting, less thoughtful, or less doggedly loyal to you.

Doggedly loyal to you.

That is what she has been to you, for you almost as long as you have known her: a constant emotional crutch, the guarantee of stability, a safety net while you reachvout to grasp objects that sparkle and shine far greater than she does. All that glitters is not gold, haven’t you heard?

She is fire. You are ice, and you are afraid that her slow burn will smolder your cool, hard demeanor. That’s what has driven your decisions, your actions all along: fear. You are a coward. You are a hypocrite. You are terrified to let her go, but you are afraid she is too good for you, that she could drive you wild, that you would choke on her flames. That she is too much for you to handle right now.

Right now.

But if you choose not to love her now, you can’t choose to love her later." — A text post has never made me tear up before. Shit (via positiveclarity)

this is too relevant right now

(via diaryofa-dangerousmind)

(Source: laurenhooper, via diaryofa-dangerousmind)

3,330 notes "

"I miss you. I do." She whispered over the phone.
“But if I spend all of my time waiting for you, whole seasons will pass without me noticing, and you may be beautiful, but you will never be more beautiful than the first snowflakes of winter or the summer light cascading through the windows.”

"I could wait for an eternity if only I knew you were coming," she said, "But time is precious, and darling you are not worth the spring blossoms. You are not worth the autumn leaves."

" — (via melbcm)

(Source: iwishtheseweremywords, via soitwouldseem-)

92,035 notes
84,117 notes
74 notes rebelbeattt:

But this, THIS I know… is the reason why it’s hard for me to leave.
27,961 notes "

Then there is the boy you can never stop thinking about. Whenever you see his name, it trips you up. Even if it’s one that belongs to many others, even if he belongs to someone else.

You know he is a symbol of your weakness, your Kryptonite. How he rushes in like wildfire and burns through everything you worked so hard to build since he last left you in ashes.

" — Lang Leav (Signposts, Lullabies)

(Source: langleav, via beitalic)

40,008 notes scntrx:

         
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