something I’ve been coming to terms with as a Sad Girl™️ dreamer:
love observed (i.e. books, movies, vicariously, etc) feels different than love that’s yours, in your body. we’re looking for something that’s not the whole something. we’re looking to feel the way we do when we’re the outsider but that’s not the love. it’s projections, hopes, dreams. it’s something that doesn’t belong to me. i’m telling myself a story.

















