I can’t blame you for walking away, and believe me I don’t. No one knows more than I that it was a long time comin’, all it needed was that little extra nudge, and lord knows I gave you more than a little.
And I forbade myself to cry, to feel pain or sadness, ‘cause I thought I didn’t deserve the privilege of missing you, but God, I do. And I’m tired of seeing your face every time I close my eyes, I’m tired of catching the smell of your clothes on a passing breeze, tired of feeling you around me like a vice. I thought I didn’t have the right to miss you, and maybe I don’t, but goddamn it hurts, and maybe this pain is exactly what I need.


angry and quite offended that you don’t have a crush on me


me liking your selfie could either mean “that’s a nice picture friend” or “i want to bend you over a table” but you’ll never know

everyone’s in their own personal coma.
— Six word stories  (via intensional)

© T H E M E