Morgan

““How do you know when it’s over?” - “Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories than with the person standing in front of you.””

“She’s the kind of girl you meet when you’re too young, and you fuck up because there’s so much living to do. Only to find she’s the one.”

I am definitely not okay.

“And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.”

A letter I wish I had the balls to send to you

Do you remember.

“Isn’t it fucking terrifying that no matter how many promises they made, no matter how long you’ve been together, someone can get up and walk out of your life without a second thought and you have to carry on living because the world doesn’t stop for any of us”