We Are Two Small Stars, And The Universe Expands Between Us.

Your first love ending is the feeling of the car door slamming on your fingers, and as it drives away with your half-ended tendons, you can’t help but think about how beautifully the light reflects off the hood. Your first love leaving is the sound the paintbrush makes as it cracks into two pieces right before the brushstroke that makes an artwork into a masterpiece. Your first love hurting you is the rush of the water down the bathtub drain, sinking sinking sinking like a pile of stones in the pit of your stomach, before disappearing forever simply because you no longer think about it. Your final love is the feeling of a symphony orchestra playing your heartstrings like a harpsichord to the tune of the song that never fails to turn your lover’s lips upwards like a sunset that happened to flip itself on its back to reveal its pink belly to the world. Your final love is the sound of the robins singing their good mornings outside the bedroom window as you open your eyes against their neck at the crack of dawn, before pulling them closer and slipping back under. Your final love leaving is with a note that says “see you tonight for dinner, I love you, be safe” and you tuck it in your breast pocket because that’s the closest you can touch it to your heart and you start heating up the oven because you are so excited to kiss their cheeks that night.

1:28 AM: THE FUTURE (k.p.k)

Everything small should cost $1 and everything big should cost $2

Lured (1947) dir. Douglas Sirk

I just wanted your fucking love.

six word story // oilpill (via just-six)

““i won’t ask you to come back,” she says. “all i ask is that you tell me you felt it too; the love, the yearning for one another. just tell me that you were happy, even for a little while, please, tell me that i made you happy.””

—

you have stardust running through your veins. you are a child of the cosmos, blessed with the power to turn tides with a click of your fingers. there is so much magic locked inside your bones, if only you knew how to use it. so please do not give up. there is stardust running through your veins; you are a child of the cosmos, you are special.

stardust, MTR (via thedelicatewords)

so many people overlook the genuine love of friends. how platonic relationships sometimes are more permanent. friendships like “hang on let me send you a nude i want you to tell me if this underwear looks good”. friendships like no, don’t, the peach looks literally so much better on you, you pop in peach. friendships like dump him but i understand why it’s hard for you to let go of deep relationships so i’ll be here until you do dump him and i’ll be the only one not to say “i told you so.” friendships like call me at three in the morning because of a spider, like hey saw this and thought of you but it’s a spongebob meme, like people think we’re dating and we honestly haven’t corrected them, like tell you the truth even if it’s a hard one to hear, like trust you with my life. friendships like wait i have the perfect outfit for you to wear on your date i’m driving the 45 minutes so we can play dressup and talk about flirting. like i know when to comfort you and when to distract you. like you’re kind of my favorite person but like also don’t tell anyone i said that i will deny it you’re gross and a jerk. like i know you’re sad come over i made cider and halloweentown is queued up and ready to go. like i will use your body as a shield between myself and the scary movie but i have also jumped someone for speaking badly to you. like you’ve been my rock my sword and the person who drags my drunk ass home. like that love that’s just two people who can sit in a room together with a bottle of wine in our bodies talking about how directors make poor color choices in movies. that’s love. don’t write it off because they don’t make movies around it. but that’s love.

sexting

boy: you like that? me, sitting on the hardwood floor with a face mask on, eating salt and vinegar chips, making mac and cheese: yes