He Picked Me Once, And He Might Not Pick Me Still. But He Picked Me Once, And That'll Have To Be Enough

I wanna make that boy fall in love with his smile

That love you lost, I promise it won’t be the last. Sometimes you’ll find it again at a friends birthday party or you’ll look up from getting a box of cereal and see it standing there. But please, don’t give up looking for the love that will always find its way back to you.

Its searching for you too (via kenzielikestowrite)

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)

I wish I lived in the city like when ur pissed and you wanna storm off for a while you can go anywhere, to a cafe or a museum or a fucking park like where the hell am I gonna storm off to here in suburbia fucking walgreens?????

pet peeve: having to load the bowl again after you finish it

oh, i am finally old enough to know why my parents took so long to grab their coats. why they would ask us to get ready to go only to sit down for another round of coffee. what would i tell myself, at 10 years old? it’s okay. sit down with them too. take in the extra hour with your friend and her family. when you get home, write down every moment in your diary. one day you will be older and you will be waving goodbye to your best friend, and you will turn the key to start your beat up little car engine, and you will look back over your shoulder. her hair will be blowing in the wind and she will be beautiful and you will be, for a moment, struck by all of it. what you will feel is so wide and nameless that it will engulf you. and you will think of being 14 and kicking her under the table in math every time you wanted to whisper something behind the teacher’s back. you will think about how long the days felt. and how you could hold her hand whenever you wished, but you didn’t. and you will think about all of the people you could have lingered with. and you will wish, more than you have ever felt a wish, that the universe just gave you that - more time to linger. more time to say - i love you. i know i need to leave, but i don’t want to leave you. and when i go, i am leaving a piece of my heart that lingers too. 

one more round of coffee. the days are so short, and you are so lovely.

why am I still in love w you

You're not the same boy and I'm not the same girl we were when we fell in and out of love. That is both heart-wrenching and relieving.

I still remember who you were

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”

— Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower