No matter how good things are, there will always be solitary nights you spend in your bedroom, in a car, or in a party full of your closest friends when it feels like the walls are caving in.
Even when she’s fully clothed, I know where everything is situated. I know all her ‘tickle spots’ and all her ‘don’t you fucking dare spots’. When she is in her natural state, her skin, it’s like all the birthdays I’ve had and yet to come combine. It never gets old. I’ll never get tired of it.
I hope he looks at me this way
This is perfect.
I’ll probably never feel this again
People always say that it hurts at night
and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am
is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken.
it’s 9am on a tuesday morning
and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up
And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much
you don’t know what to do with your hands.