TILL OUR SOULS CATCH FIRE

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Be true to yourself. Hold out for the right person rather to clinging desperately to the wrong person simply because you are too scared or too insecure to be alone.

Livvy: and now for a gay update with Kit Herondale

you don’t realize to what proximity you hold him to your heart until it’s half past eleven on a school night and you find yourself urging even your lungs to stay silent, because the boy on the other end of the phone call is sound asleep and you’re desperate not to wake him. you know when you don’t want to end the call to sleep for yourself because nine miles is too great of a distance between you and him and the sound of his lungs putting in the work to keep him alive diminishes the distance to eight and a half. it hits you that he’s wormed his way into your heart and taken root at the center when the color of his eyes and the slope of his nose makes it feel like flowers are blooming in your chest. you realize he’s gotten in when you start tuning out your favorite songs in favor of the recording of his laugh that circulates in your head. you know you’re falling hard and fast when you start making comparisons between him and monarch butterflies, and noticing the freckles on his arms and the minuscule technicolor flecks in his eyes. you know he’s worth it when you’re not scared anymore; when you can look at him and not have a single thought in your head about how many stitches it’s gonna take if he goes away, that’s how you know he’s right.