“I was six years old, and I couldn’t wait to
grow up. I thought that being sixteen was
the perfect age. I thought my teenage years
would be filled with late nights, kissing boys
in parking lots, going to school dances just
to ditch them, sneaking out at midnight to
get drunk and wake up in my best friend’s
room. I thought that it would be filled with
adventure, and excitement, and I thought
that when I got my heartbroken, all my
friends would throw a slumber party just to
cheer me up. I thought that these years
were suppose to be the best of my life.
But all I got was late nights spent studying
for that geometry test I would end up failing.
Days filled with anxiety because I just can’t
fucking stop thinking about how much school
stresses me out, and low self esteem because
I was not the beautiful blonde girl every guy
in town wanted. I had my first shot at a party
that wasn’t even a “party” half the people there
were smoking pot in the back room, the other
half, drunk. My first heartbreak, I was left to
cry tears alone in my room, my best friend
became the pillow under my head that caught
every god damn tear I cried. This was not what
I imagined, but I am happy that six year old me
didn’t see it this way, because I’m not sure if
she would stick around for it.”—i.c. // “They made it seem like teenage years were magical, where the fuck is the magic?” (via delicatepoetry)
i think the best feeling is when you make someone that you like a lot laugh and their face lights up and they start giggling and you’re really happy that you were able to make someone so beautiful smile so much
“You will have days where you feel better, and you will have days where you want to die. Both are okay. There is no magical cure. You just need to close your eyes, and trust that the waves will pass, and soon you’ll be able to breathe again.”—(via tinyambitiousqueen)
let’s spend our week nights eating cereal on the floor
when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
we can go to the movies and sit in the back row
just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
we’ll paint the rooms of our house
and get more paint on us than the walls.
we can hold hands and go to parties we end up
ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub.
and slow dance with me in our bedroom
with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
let me love you forever.
“I automatically assume people won’t like me, so I don’t talk to them unless they approach me first. I can’t become a part of a crowd because I can’t get past that feeling that I don’t belong.”—Stephanie Kuehnert (via durianseeds)