"The people who are meant to be in your life will always gravitate back towards you, no matter how far they wander."
— (via psych-facts)
Cigarettes do kill,
Life goes on,
with or without you."
sad facts that come along with existing (via bl-ossomed)
THIS IS AMAZING.
(Source: cosmicwording, via deflated-from-you)
1. Your skin may never be perfect, and that’s okay.
2. Life is too short not to have the underwear, the coffee, and the haircut you want.
3. Everyone (including your family, your coworkers, and your best friend) will talk about you behind your back, and you’ll talk about them too. It doesn’t mean you don’t love each other.
4. It’s okay to spend money on things that make you happy.
5. Sometimes without fault or reason, relationships deteriorate. It will happen when you’re six, it will happen when you’re sixty. That’s life.
— Five things I am trying very hard to accept (via stay-ocean-minded)
(Source: aumoe, via en-fux)
"The first person I ever loved was not myself, but him, and maybe that was my biggest mistake. I learned to love the dimples on his cheeks, and the lines under his eyes when he smiled. I learned to love the way his eyes turned angry when he screamed into my face, to love the way his hands tightened around my arms. I loved the way his lips lingered on my skin after begging me to peel off my layers of my clothes. I dug up every little piece of who he was, and planted it inside my heart. I kept love for him every where I went, and even when he left me, my heart was still full. I had put so much effort into loving him, that I forgot to love myself. I saw no beauty unless the beauty I saw was his eyes, I saw no greater happiness, than when I saw his smile. So whenever I looked in the mirror, I felt numb, I felt hate. I could not love the freckles on my cheeks, even though I connected his like stars in the sky. I could not love the way my hair got wavy when it was damp, even though I always twirled pieces of his hair in my fingers. I could not feel sweet melancholy when tears ran down my face, but I could when I wiped away his. I could not get undressed and look at my skin, because it was only worth looking at when he looked. I could not love myself, because I thought it was suppose to be fulfilled by someone else. I had become nothing but a daisy, waiting for my petals to be picked, he loves me, he loves me not. I only ever felt love, when it was given to me by someone else. I could not feel love if it was given to me by myself. Yet all this has taught me a lesson, maybe it’s so easy to love someone else, and so hard to love yourself, because that’s who deserves every ounce of your love; yourself."
— i.c. // ”Learning to Love Myself” (via delicatepoetry)