“Sometimes things end quietly, without any screaming or crying or broken dishes all over the floor and the quiet things hurt so much more than the fires, the things that end in flames, with blood and bruises and somebody yelling “please don’t leave me” over and over again. Because when you and the boy you’ve loved for the past two years are about to burn to the ground you can try to put it out, you get a chance to save yourselves but when things just sort of fizzle out and love disappears like a little leak in the basement neither of you noticed or the smoke from the dinner you burned last night there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
— (via extrasad)













