i got this

Last thing I want is silence. Standing up there, in silence, and someone says, “Sorry about all that noise. Sorry about all that dust. Sorry about all that mud. And all that fucking blood.” And you say, “Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry. It’s all I can do now.” You want me to write this down? Do you want me to write you a fucking letter? Me and Arthur can’t write it down cause they haven’t invented the fucking words. We don’t have the fucking words. And the worst thing is we could’ve stayed at school. But we volunteered. Still don’t have the fucking words.

"It always has been and always will be you.."

We could still dance…

You’re crying.

#mood

The main thing is, you bunch of fuckers, despite the provocation from the cavalry, no fighting!

Because that’s the one who’s in charge, isn’t it?The one who knows before it happens.

I’ve never bought into that “You Just Know” notion. Love is a tricky thing. Sometimes it feels like an undeniable force that hits between the eyes and doesn’t let up. Other times, it’s malleable, questionable. It’s truth hidden in and amongst external obstacles and internal circumstances that’ve formed who you are, what you expect in the world, and how you can accept love. Oh, to say the least, it’s complicated. And if a mind’s abuzz with pressure and deadlines and “What if this and that,” I imagine love’s truth would be a near-impossible thing to feel. I wonder if, when all’s quiet in your mind, you’ll find your answer.

Fucking love it.

You can change what you do, but you can’t change what you want.

First dress & last dress Marilla made for Anne: 1.01 & 3.10

“You hear that, Grace?”