everythingheart

being in my 20s is like I understand more of my mother and less than i ever have. My childhood friends are strangers to me and there’s no one i know better. i want to drink wine. i never stopped wanting to climb trees. i know more than I’ve ever known before. I don’t know anything at all. i’m seven years old and sixteen and twenty nine and seventy. I can’t tell when i'm happy. I think the only thing that will make me happy is to be little again. i want to be really old. i go to the ocean and feel like nothing matters more than that. in my bedroom everything matters so much. I go to the grocery store every day. i know how to cook a lot of things but the only thing i know how to eat is fried eggs. I can take care of myself but i want to be taken care of. i want to go home and I don't know where that is. i think it may be somewhere inside of me but i’m not sure

reading this while sitting in my math lecture retrospecting my decision of moving away from my best friend.

thinking abt when someone rests their head on your shoulder and suddenly you're barely breathing because you don't want to disrupt their comfort by moving. will never get over how there can be so much love held in silent gestures.

do not forget to tell someone u love them unprompted on this chilly october day

*takes your face carefully in my hands* we will be just fine

need someone to do this to me. alittleforeheadkisswouldalsobenice.

*gives you little kiss on the forehead with extra care*

*gives you my special bear hugs

*takes your face carefully in my hands* we will be just fine

need someone to do this to me. alittleforeheadkisswouldalsobenice.

the eighth deadly sin is actually being mean to me but they keep that one a secret

me to that one v specific auto wale bhaiya

Bitches with trust issues love enemies to lovers because they love the idea of seeing someones worst traits first and still be able to fall in love them without the everpresent underlying fear of weather their worst is something genuinely evil. It's me. I'm bitches.

i diagnose you with i love you

i hate poetry sometimes because how will i ever be able to make people understand how soft your hair is after it dries from the shower and how i associate you with chamomile because that’s your favorite tea and so now i smell phantom traces of it wherever you are. and i have had a shit day and considered taking all the pills in the bottle and i was mentally drafting a suicide note but then i walked into my room and saw my dog on my bed and he never does that and so i chose to keep going. and my friend hugged me today because i told her i was making progress and i’m loved enough to be spontaneous now. and i’ve learned to look at the world and love and how will i ever be content with anything i write when there’s so much more?

a little reminder for everyone out there and Anushka's special bear hugs for everyone who might think they don't deserve this<333

this will never not make my heart ache

the yearning never ends