I’m hoping for an outcome like this :)
they tell you about school and they tell you about work and they tell you about taxes and responsibilities and ideals you have to reach. they don’t tell you about baking chocolate cookies from scratch at the ungodly hours of 11 at night and sitting on your kitchen floor while watching a home decor competition show while you get to munch on a cookie that tastes like the hot chocolate you used to make when you needed a reason to live as a teenager. they don’t tell you about getting to eat another cookie while you think about capturing this moment in a mason jar and shipping it through time to your younger self who gets scared so easily by school and work and taxes and responsibilities and ideals. your younger self who wonders if there’s still comfort, still good things, and if you get to claim them for yourself at some point or if comfort is always a question of dependence. they don’t tell you about that, when for years we do nothing but dream about moments like these
I don't know why I'm expected to be a normal, functioning person when everyone around me tried their hardest to stop me from being one.
When boys get tired and they're all sleepy and sweet and it's so cute holy shit
All my life, I have been living for other people. Most of the decisions I have made were because someone else wanted me to make them. It's time to start living for myself, but I have no interest in life at all. Killing myself will be the most selfish thing that I will ever do, but at least it will be my own decision.
i want a gf or a bf or a partner or some undisclosed fourth thing i dont care about gender or what people call "standards" i just want somebody to fucking love me
There is something undeniably romantic about touching someone. Your fingers brushing against their bare skin, the pulse of heartbeat beating in tune to yours, the muted warm of life in them, pressed up against you. For a moment, for the slightest of split-seconds, your souls are perfectly in sync
I’m other news, I just accidentally touched my crush’s hand and I immediately started blushing and stammering
horribly nasty thoughts. (cuddling, and holding hands, and giggling, and tracing your face gently with my fingers, and you running yours through my hair, and wrapping my arms around your waist, and getting lost in your eyes and-)
"it gets better" - but i've been this way since i was a child.
spam