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You ever feel like you try to do everything right but still fuck up?

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Health care includes abortion.

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“day 1. you look outside. the sky is blue. you know this. this specific frequency of light is called blue and that is the sky. you know this, but you are numb. the sky seems to be crashing down. day 2. you will leave your bed today. in an hour. two maybe. you will leave your bed tomorrow. day 3. you will leave your bed today. you need to shower. and eat. you will leave your bed today. you sleep a dreamless sleep. shower can wait. day 5. was air always this cold in the mornings? or maybe you no longer have thick skin. maybe the wind blows through the cracks to the very marrow of your bones. maybe this is how it feels to be fragments. day 7. the bruise on you neck fades. you stare at the mirror for an hour, trying to glimpse just a trace. day 10. you think there was a time you could listen to people and understand what they were saying. not anymore. everyone knows you can’t hold a conversation under water. day 11. you used to share coffee. you finish it this morning. you feel sick. maybe caffeine was never your thing. day 12. your mother thinks you should put all of his things in a box. she doesn’t understand you can’t imagine holding them again. day 15. you delete his texts. no, there are no words that would make this better. day 20. you laugh. the joke is corny, but you laugh anyway, and it feels a little bit like your core is starting to heal. day 21. you cry. seeing him feels a little bit like your lungs are beginning to bleed. day 25. did you love having carrot cake on sundays, or did you just love the way he loved it? day 27. the concert tickets arrive. you forgot there was a time you made plans. you throw them in the trash. day 35. you put his things in the box. not everything. not the photos. you think your tears got less salty over the last five weeks. is that a thing? day 36. your mother changes your sheets. they don’t feel fresh. they feel like end. you don’t sleep. you text him. you never look at the reply. day 40. you see him. you breathe. the world does not shatter. day 41. there is a beauty in the morning sun. day 42. you miss carrot cake. day 47. you put the photos in the box without looking. day 48. you see him with a girl. you stare. you can’t look away. you drink until the world is spinning. day 49. bathroom tiles under your cheek. you cannot keep doing this. day 53. you kiss a boy without a name. you cry after. day 69. the boy without a name has a name, and it makes your heart tingle. day 70. the sky is blue. beneath the clouds. you can feel it on your skin. the warmth that comes with healing. day 85. you open the box and look at the photos. it hurts in a place you cannot name. it makes a storm rage inside your head. but you know yourself well, you are your own tether; you are a survivor. day 90. the boy without a name is nameless again. you are ok. you feel the life pulsing through your veins. you are ok. day 98. you order decaf and a carrot cake. you read a book in the window of your new favourite cafe. you are alone, but not afraid. you are learning to love the person you’ve become.”

— marina v., the post breakup becoming. (via findingwordsforthoughts)

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“I hope one day someone asks you about him and you laugh instead of feeling a double edged dager on your chest.”

— Alexa Evangelista (via aestheticintrovert)

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Obsessed

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It’s raining, the windows open, and I’m eating string cheese and drinking some wine, while watching some goofy T.V. Saturdays are good for the soul

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not-really-friends-anymore is such a weird place to be like yeah we're still on each other's instagram close friends lists and i know all your favorites and i know that one specific type of candy you like and i still know you better than i wish i did and i think about you every year on your birthday but i don't know if i should wish you a happy birthday (i stare at the happy birthday i typed out until the blinking cursor convinces me to delete it)

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Everyone’s posting their favorite vines, so I thought I’d hop on this bandwagon.

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St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Missouri, December 30, 1931

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this is peak Craigslist

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Bunny pilot

(via)

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reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

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Common Phrases Correctly