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"But no matter how hard I try, I am not the sea. I am a sunken ship that has drowned in everyone who touched me."
— Lora Mathis (via katelouisepowell)
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"…in the end, altruistic love felt like cutting myself open to make somebody else feel whole and bleeding out everything I loved about myself."
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The worst thing about love is not the godawful moments of fear or the sinking of happiness in their eyes when you fight, but the wonderful, beautiful moments are what hurt the most in the very end. But what is the very end? Is it something that only comes when you’re dead? The only thing that is guaranteed is that you were born, and you will die. You can choose what you make of your time on this earth, but nothing is guaranteed.
The worst thing about love is that it blinds you from seeing the truth. you can see past infatuation, but when it’s love, you’re fucked. Sometimes the only honesty you get is the look on their face because it will contradict their words. Look into their eyes and try to decode whatever the hell is going on in their crazy little mind without explanation. You could get played, tricked, manipulated but you will never know. You are trapped. And being trapped in love is like quicksand just sitting there, waiting to suck you in.
The worst thing about love is that it happens without warning, What do you call it when your life falls apart right in front of you and you let it? When you don’t even realize that what is good now will kill you when it’s done? I’ll never understand how easy friendship turns into love but how difficult it is to go back. I’ll never understand how something so powerful and brilliant kills you, just like a drug. I was more addicted to you than anything I could get stuck on and now that you’re gone, I have to stop thinking about what the fuck made you so special."
— The worst thing about love (via not-frail)
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You want the things
But you cannot truly
It Takes Two Sides To Make A Whole
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I have not felt pretty in months.
But here’s a list of future priorities.
I hope I don’t ever stop writing, even when everybody
If pretty is a place, then you don’t need a map.
You walk around with your eyes closed asking
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