She imagines him imagining her.
This is her salvation.
― Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin (via 5ullen)

populardad:

there is a difference between people who are smart and people who get good grades

absolutcute:

i want to look like an arctic monkeys song

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid (via dearalexandra)

FUCK?!!?

(via extrasad)

This had me close to tears

(via perksofamanda)