#weirdo steph

Type three words. Delete them. Type them again, faster. Delete them, slower. How do you tell someone these things? How do you encompass a feeling into text, into speech, into too-long looks and timid glances? How do you tell a stranger how you feel without saying anything at all? Yes. No. Yes. Oh, fuck. Fuck. Kiss me. I'm terrified. I'm terrified, but I also want you to shove me up against a wall and kiss me that same way you kissed me the first time. I wish I knew what to do, I'd kiss you until you couldn't breathe and then I'd do it for you. Clean air, sweet air. Fresh air. Type something different. Four words. No, no, no. Delete them. They're wrong, all wrong. Nothing looks right, nothing feels right. I swear, quietly, and pick up a pen and shitty paper. Instead of typing, I write. Those words still don't look right but at least they feel right. I crumble up the paper and try again. Repeat seven times. It looks awful but at least it feels right.

This was a weird painting my ex and I found at an antique store near Wyalusing, PA. There’s a gorgeous lookout and historical site near the store called French Azilum. I’d definitely recommend going. 

Found these jelly dudes at the North Carolina Aquarium on Roanoke Island 

Damn, I look sad.