"One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learnt to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you."
"I’m literally so tired of being nice to people and going out of my way to make sure they’re okay and happy just to get treated like shit. Fuck everyone who I’ve been there for and haven’t been there for me."
When you love someone.
When you love someone, you love them in every way.
You love their insecurities. You love their imperfections. You love the way they walk, they laugh, they stare at you. You think of them the time you close your eyes at night and every time you wake up in the morning.
When you love someone, you get mad at them. You get hurt. You hurt them as well. You put scars on them, and if you love them so much you try to heal those scars. You try to make them feel better. You make them feel more loved.
When you love someone, you dont just give up on them. It gets harder each day. But then you love them and no matter how hard it is, you stay because it is still harder without them. So you try to fix everything.
When you love someone, you wonder whether they have eaten, they went home safely, whether they are feeling alright or bad. When you love someone you want them to be always in good condition.
When you love someone, you want them to stay with you forever.
When you love someone, you wipe away their tears, you hold them as long as they wanna be held.
When you love someone you just dont let them go away.
You dont let them feel like they are nothing.
When you love someone you make them feel your love.
Vyvanse and Wellbutrin depletes my appitite so I’m happy I won’t be a fucking whale anymore. Lexapro made me gain 15 pounds in a month. My psychiatrist finally believed that I have add when I brought in my old Adderall bottle. Also, Vistaril really helps my anxiety. I’ll be happy when I’m back down to 120 pounds. I hope to get there within a month. Since I’m unemployed I have nothing better to do than go to the gym in my apartment complex.
Oh yes, I’m super excited I have a credit card bill of $2,300. I’ll have to call Chase and ask them to raise my limit tomorrow.
“ Bitch said I’m ugly, I said, “ Bitch, where?” She said, “ Under all that makeup.” I said….aye you got it. You got it. Shit. You ain’t have to go deep.”
