A Lovatic Forever&Always
I just want someone who won’t get annoyed when I text them six times or in all caps. Someone I can go on long drives with and can sing along to the radio with. Someone I can eat pizza with at 2am and kiss at 6pm. Someone who chooses me everyday and never thinks twice about it.

(via coralshit)

You

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keelah-kawaii:

leonmcgann:

getting annoyed after illegally downloading music when it turns out to be bad quality

ellosteph:

goddamnit-shannon:

"Everything in my head went quiet. 

All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared. 

When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments. 

Even in bed, I’m thinking: 
Did I lock the doors? Yes. 
Did I wash my hands? Yes. 
Did I lock the doors? Yes. 
Did I wash my hands? Yes. 
But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips.. 
Or the eyelash on her cheek- 
the eyelash on her cheek- 
the eyelash on her cheek. 
I knew I had to talk to her. 
I asked her out six times in thirty seconds. 
She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going. 
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to her.. 
But she loved it. 
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day. 
She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk. 
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times. 
I’d always watch her mouth when she talked- 
when she talked- 
when she talked- 
when she talked; 
when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges. 
At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off. 
She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her. 
But then.. She said I was taking up too much of her time. 
That I couldn’t kiss her goodbye so much because I was making her late for work.. 
When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line.. 
When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking.. 
And last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place. 
She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her; that this whole thing was a mistake, but.. 
How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touch her? 
Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t. 
I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her. 
Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin. 
I see myself crushed my an endless succession of cars.. 
And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. 
I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel.. 
How she turns shower knobs like she opening a safe. 
How she blows out candles- 
blows out candles- 
blows out candles- 
blows out candles- 
blows out-…. 
Now, I just think about who else is kissing her. 
I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once-he doesn’t care if it’s perfect! 
I want her back so bad.. 
I leave the door unlocked. 
I leave the lights on. ”

One of my all time favorites
At first, I had trouble dating a girl who was recovering from an eating disorder. I couldn’t get by the fact that I may not ever be able to treat her to a nice dinner because she simply could not go out. I hated sitting by and watching her as she ignored the compliments I gave her and constantly commented on how she wished to look like “that girl”, or “her over there”. And it used to bother me that there were so many things she just couldn’t eat.
Then I realized that eating out wasn’t important in a relationship like ours. What was important was our meals together at home, and how I knew exactly what to make her every night. How we sat together at the beginning of each week and spent at most an hour at a time planning the meals we would share. How appreciative she looked when I refused to sit in silence at the table to keep her from focusing on the calories that entered her body.
I almost enjoyed that I knew exactly what she couldn’t eat, and I soon got past the fact that we might not ever be able to order pizza from domino’s on a Friday night while we watched Harry Potter in the living room. All I cared about eventually was helping her, and that was what a relationship should be like.
I loved her so much that I could stand the nights where she stood in front of the mirror and cried, and it would tear my heart to pieces when she would ask me why I could ever love someone that looked like her. I would hold her, I wouldn’t tell her she was beautiful more than once or twice, and that was all. I trusted her and she I enough that we could sit together every night and she could tell me whether or not she had thrown up her lunch, even if I already knew because I was so scared that I watched her after every meal. Even if I knew, though, I never stopped her, because they were her battles, and I knew that no matter how much it hurt, me fighting them for her wouldn’t help.
Soon enough though, I saw that she became more confident. Her trips to the restroom following meals became fewer until I could relax, knowing that there was a good chance she was safe. There were less times when she looked at the mirror and pinched fat that was actually only skin. Finally, she asked me to take her out for dinner. Finally, we ordered domino’s on a Friday night and watched Harry Potter.
And that, that’s what love is.
Anonymous (via generati0n-hate)

That is beautiful
Absolutely Beautiful

(via ourdaysarenumbered13)
There are 7 billion 47 million people on the planet
And I have the audacity to think I matter.
Watsky - ace. (via sickghoul)

zenis:

wet dream: being financially secure with a career i enjoy

I just feel so damn fucking dead inside.
(via devotedtothedemonsinside)
I was just thinking about someone else touching you and now I can’t decide on whether I want to break their hands or my own.
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