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Anonymous sent: Do you believe in soulmates? Like, the idea of being not completely whole until someone comes along and fit your soul like a puzzle piece.

One part of me read this and thought: no. No screw that. I don’t need anyone to complete me. After all, isn’t that what we’ve been taught? That to make ourselves happy, we don’t require another body; another soul?

But then another part of me shook its head and laughed a little. It said I don’t believe because I am terrified I will never meet someone who fills all the crevices. How frightening, to think you might always be left with an ‘almost’.

You see, we shouldn’t spend our lives searching for a soulmate. We should spend it doing the things that make us happy. We should love ourselves and love the people around us who treat us with kindness. We should find meaning while being alone and this should be enough. You see, only when we complete ourselves as wholly as we possibly can will we discover the cracks.

And call me wishful, call me a romantic, but I believe if soulmates truly exist you do not find each other after a lifetime of searching but rather stumble upon one another in a bookstore or while catching a train or some other terribly ordinary, beautiful circumstance.

(Source: basorex-ic)

I. You do not need a boy to buy expensive, lacy underwear. Wear it for yourself. You look great. Never let anyone convince you otherwise.

II. If you spend all your time waiting for things to happen, you’re letting other people control your fate. Time won’t wait for you. Get a move on.

III. Living off the scraps of love from other people will leave you hungry. Grow to love yourself and you won’t die of starvation.

IV. Learn when to care and when to laugh it off. If somebody hurts you, tell them. If they hurt you again, leave.

V. Life is too short to spend it sad. You don’t need approval to turn up the music and dance like you’re America’s next model. You look funny. Learn to stop caring.

VI. If it’s edible and you’re hungry, eat it. If it’s edible and you want to eat it, eat it. If it’s edible and you’re full , convince the girl in the corner who looks like she’s starving to have it. Tell her she’s goddamn beautiful and repeat it until she smiles.

VII. If he doesn’t call you after your first argument, he won’t call you after your last. If his arms are slack when you make up, he hasn’t let it go. If he can’t look you in the eye when he says he loves you, he’s lying. And if he watches you walk away with tears in your eyes, he’s not the one.

VIII. Your mother went through nine months of hell for you and prepared herself to go through another eighteen years of it. She does not deserve your impatience because some boy did not notice you at school.

IX. Your emotions may not make sense and sometimes you will be irrational, but they will always be valid. You are allowed to cry if you are hurt. You are allowed to find bad jokes funny. And you are allowed to scream if you want to, but it is better to laugh.

X. You are not perfect but that does not give other people the right to use it against you. Stop apologizing for everything. It will not make you more likable. Take responsibility for yourself and demand respect, not compliments.

XI. No one can tell you the meaning of life. Happy people are the ones who have found their own meaning.

#70 “To the girl who sits on the kitchen floor with red eyes”
Someone’s having a war in the sky.

Someone’s having a war in the sky.

Anonymous sent: Why can't I get over him

A six word story.

You know, trying to get over someone is only half the battle. The other half is fought when you wear their favourite sweater, when you hear their favourite song and when you taste their favourite fruit. It’s seeing the first film you watched together again and trying to pay attention to the actors instead of remembering how close you were to grasping his hand and burying your head into his shoulder.

You can’t get over him because you didn’t do all the things that you said you would. He promised things. You promised things. Those promises meant things. And deep down you kinda knew things weren’t going to work out, but a bigger part of you was hoping they might. And hope is a bitch sometimes.

There isn’t really some magical formula for getting over someone. You miss them because, like it or not, they found a gap in your life and filled it almost to perfection. Now you gotta fill it in yourself and that hurts.

I can’t tell you how. I can’t tell you why. But you’re not alone, I can tell you that much.

I know you are capable of love,” she said quietly, “It is just that you are not capable of loving me.
—Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #69

"It’s all clumsy nose bumps and last minute kisses," she replied, when he asked. "And trembling hands that push back hair to learn the colour of new eyes."

"It’s watching them do something so ordinary and deciding you could watch it for a lifetime." She said. "That’s how you know."

"And if it’s real, it’ll tear you apart."

"But funnily enough, it’s the only time you’ll be thankful to have something that made you feel so much."

—Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #68 - "What’s it like?"
Don’t let him burn cigarette holes into your skin and tell you it makes you prettier.
—Vodka thoughts #2

"I am going to tell you everything," she said, "because I have too many feelings that are filling up my lungs, and too many words that refuse to be silenced.

"And when I am eighty years old I do not want to look back and wish I had told you how I see galaxies in your eyes. I do not want to write letters that will never be read or poetry that will never be heard.

"So now I will kiss your nose and breathe your air, and I will ask you to hold me a just a little bit closer even if it means you crush my ribs in the process.

"Because when I am eighty years old I would rather have the scars from the stitches left by an eighteen year old boy than to have ribs that never felt a thing.

"And I would rather trace the marks on my skin, saying ‘he knew, he knew, at least he knew,’ than to lie there regretting and wishing and wondering what you thought, and if I still cross your mind."

—Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #67

"I don’t hate you," she promised. "I swear I don’t.

"It just hurts too much to be around you right now."

—Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #27 (via blossomfully)
Anonymous sent: She says things like "I can't wear my hair up, I hate my neck", " I can't wake up late, it takes forever to even get my face to this point". How can I tell her she's beautiful without letting on that I love her?

Fuck.

I’m sorry, this message really got to me.

It makes me wonder how many people hide their emotions and feelings behind subtle words and quiet gestures. But gosh, love is such a rare, vulnerable, breathtaking thing and rejection is so SO small in comparison. Love is when your heart beats right the way out of your chest until you feel like you’re drowning and it drives you insane - and I swear I’ll never come across a bigger contradiction.

So if you love her, screw being afraid, just say it. Tell her she’s beautiful and it hurts that she can’t see it. Tell her her smile brightens your day. Tell her you want to hold her hand, and hold it. Restraint is such a killer and you only begin to realise this once you’ve stopped letting your fear control you.

Maybe you’ll work out; maybe you won’t, but when you are eighty years old, at least you’ll have one less regret. At least you won’t have words you never said, and things you never did. Because you know what? Regrets are the biggest killers of all.

Wait for someone who tells strangers about you.
—Vodka thoughts #1

(Source: aliencreaturex)

Well, at least I have books
—Me, when human company gets too much
But please tell me,” she said, “is being second choice better than being no choice at all?
—Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #66