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my heart

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Very Round Baikal Seal.mp4

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I'm so sorry I can't stop myself from staring at you

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Welp

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After almost a year :))

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A Tara Shaver appreciation post @tajeshaver-blog-blog

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Mood

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Your profile picture is so pretty!

Awww sankyu! ♡

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My problem

I think too much and feel too deeply; what a dangerous combination.

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You have no idea how many times I check up on you everyday

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Everything is going downhill, I don't know if I can handle it this time around

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They say that if a writer falls in love with you, you’ll never die. 
But no one talks about what happens when you break a writer’s heart. How this gift of immortality becomes their curse.
How they keep you alive in their poetry even while it kills them. 
How they recreate the crime scene on paper. 
Words spread out like a map coordinates
Looking for where things went wrong.
Writing down the word ‘forever’ and 
Wondering how those three syllables sounded like an eternity when you said it. Every poem they write is sketch of your face; as if their pen only knows how to make posters of the people they miss; each full stop a reminder of your freckles; each semicolon an image of your sideways smile and the dimple under your cheek. Every poem is just ‘I still love you’ written in code. Every poem is a letter unsent; because if hearts were mailboxes you wouldn’t have one. Every poem is an attempt to soothe the bruise in their left chest; to let inked words bleed instead; to shrink the memories into sentences. Every poem is the Heimlich maneuver so they write until the words locked in their throats fly out like freed birds and bruised lungs can finally taste oxygen again. Every poem is a paper boat called acceptance. Every poem including this one.

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Cheating was your fucking choice why the fuck are you blaming all of this on me when you current relationship goes wrong tell me where the fuck do I fit in all of your and your girlfriend's mess what the actual fuck man (???) I am trying to live a zen life wyd boi SIT DOWn high blood aq sayo

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I want to see you. I want to see you. I want to see you. I want to see you. I want to see you. I want to see you. If I repeat this enough, will it actually happen?

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do you ever feel the need to ask someone if they still want you in their life because it always feels like they don’t care about you or that you are bothering them.

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I can't sleep, just like every night before I travel.

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And with the hope of meeting you again, I keep looking ahead. With the hope of your soul lighting up mine again, I keep moving towards my dream. It’s just a broken stream of hope, but I thrive on it. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s all I have right now.