Sometimes When You Ask The Universe For Something, Don’t Be Surprised When It Takes Something From

the artist’s guide to falling in love;

I. Find someone who makes your heart flutter, in a small, innocent way. Maybe it’s their cheekbones or their laugh or their music taste. Romanticise it in every way possible.

II.Fall way harder than you ever intended to. Write poetry about them and listen to songs that make you ache to remind yourself of them and pine after them in the most pathetic way possible. Reason with yourself that this is pain is good for your creativity.

III.Tell them, out loud or otherwise, but let the words slip out your lips, waterfalls, and tidal waves of destruction out of your mouth. If they don’t feel the same, go home and write poetry about rejection and revenge. Press backspace on it all and let numbness take over. If they feel the same, fall harder, the way angels do when they fall from heaven.

IV. Romanticise everything. The two freckles on their right eyebrow and their hands and fingers and the way they breathe. The way they take their coffee and the fact that they really want to spend time with you. Make yourself ache in the best way possible and occupy your mind with their smell, their favourite films, and every conversation you’ve ever had with them.

V. Watch it fall apart without really realising that it’s happening. Let yourself yell and scream and try to keep it together and remember how much you love the freckles on their eyebrow but forget that they like their coffee without milk or sugar and forget to understand. When they leave, remember they have black coffee and that you’re not enough, you’re not enough for tropical thunderstorms and summer breezes. Begin to write more poetry about heartbreak and wish you could make it stop. Dream of hurricanes and lightning.

VI. Make to do lists and begin to feel okay in the wake of their absence. Drink tea and practise self-care, see the friends you neglected, and remember that the next time you fall in love, you will understand; remember how they take their coffee and their tea, and remember to love both the freckles and the scars, inside and out. Remember to love who they are, and not just their aesthetics. Don’t just love the thunderstorm, love all of the weather that they bring.

who else wants to go on a drive at 1am until we forget about what’s bothering us

I had so much hope for you

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

Your heart will become a dusty piano in the basement of a church and she will play you when no one is looking. Now you understand why it’s called an organ.

Rudy Francisco, “Like Every Other Man” (via fuckyeahrudyfrancisco)

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)

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

He picked me once, and he might not pick me still. But he picked me once, and that'll have to be enough for this lifetime, right?

Even though it isn't

you can fall out of love as quickly as you fall in it

ain’t that a bitch

it’s 4:27 in the evening. it’s not a romantic time at all. the sun isn’t setting. nobody is going home to bed yet. nobody is waking up alone. it’s 4:27 and you’re on an express elevator going down and you feel the force of gravity as if it was sluicing up between your toes and without meaning to, as your stomach drops, you think of him. you think of roller coasters. you think of kissing him while both of your mouths are sticky with ice cream. you think of holding his hand in the back of a dark car, playing with his fingers for no other reason than to feel his skin brush yours. you think of cotton candy, of a burst of laughter, of the curve of his neck. you think of sighing against his shoulder, of his head resting on your lap, of city walks. the girl on the elevator with you asks, “are you okay?” you say you’re fine. “just got vertigo,” you explain. that feeling when you’re staring into a canyon and for a second, you know nothing is the same.

falling // r.i.d (via inkskinned)