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"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."

- Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones (via psych-facts)

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Source: psych-facts
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"Delete her number.

Stop ringing her. Stop messaging her. Stop making excuses to see her, to drop by her place.

Erase her name from memory. Remove yourself from her life, more completely than you would like but as completely as she deserves. Move on, so that you can allow her to also move on. When you close your eyes, you don’t get to see her face. Not anymore. You don’t get to think about her lips, the warm glow of her skin when she rests next to you, or how she squeezes your hand in her sleep. You are not allowed to remember the smell of her perfume, that she only drinks mint tea (with two dollops of honey), or that she loves you.

She loves you.

She has been in love with you for too long.

So, forget how she says your name. Forget how she calls your name. Forget how she screams your name. Forget that time you got sick and she stayed up with you all night, letting you lay your head in her lap and holding a cold compress to your forehead. Forget how her hair feels in your fingers. Forget how she looks in your sweatshirts.

Forget her.

Know only that she existed at one point in your life, but relinquish all hope that she could exist at another point — sometime in the future that you are unwilling to specify because you don’t know what you want. Yet. It is not fair for you to swoop in and out of her life as you choose. It is not fair for you to say that you are satisfied with “things as they are” and you will have time to “figure it out” later. Let her stop investing emotionally in you. Let her pour that love and care into the people who deserve her.

Don’t tell her that you think about her all the time. Don’t tell her that it bothers you to hear about her with other people, but that you’re willing to understand as long as she likes you more than them. Don’t tell her that this isn’t the right moment but that there will be a right moment. There is not going to be a right moment. She shouldn’t have to wait for the right moment.

Don’t tell her that you can’t handle ultimatums, that you don’t like the idea of finally adding finality to your relationship — whatever still remains of it.

What you are telling her is that you want to keep her on as an option, that you are taking her for granted, that you want to know she will be there, that you can depend on her at the end of the day. When you find that no one else has stuck around or that those who have are less interesting, less thoughtful, or less doggedly loyal to you.

Doggedly loyal to you.

That is what she has been to you, for you almost as long as you have known her: a constant emotional crutch, the guarantee of stability, a safety net while you reachvout to grasp objects that sparkle and shine far greater than she does. All that glitters is not gold, haven’t you heard?

She is fire. You are ice, and you are afraid that her slow burn will smolder your cool, hard demeanor. That’s what has driven your decisions, your actions all along: fear. You are a coward. You are a hypocrite. You are terrified to let her go, but you are afraid she is too good for you, that she could drive you wild, that you would choke on her flames. That she is too much for you to handle right now.

Right now.

But if you choose not to love her now, you can’t choose to love her later."

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A text post has never made me tear up before. Shit (via positiveclarity)

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preach, holy Fuck

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One cup of Yin Yang. Half white mocha, half dark mocha. #Nevertoolatte #yinyang #nationalcoffeeday #mocha #coffee #dessertinacup

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Source: hoechloin
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"First love is scary because it’s like “holy crap, why is this person the first thing I think of in the morning, why am I disappointed when I don’t dream of them? Why is the desire to be with them so much stronger than hunger and thirst and exhaustion? Why does their name look so pretty written down? Why do I feel like I just fell out of a 30 story building when they look at me, and why do I like it?” And you become so comfortable with them that when they leave, your body doesn’t know how to react because they were as common to you as breathing, and now you’re missing a vital part of yourself. You forget that you were someone before them. You think “I was so empty until I met them.” No, you were full. And when you learned about love, you were fuller. Now you’re back to where you were before, and you need to fill yourself with other things. Fall in love with the way sunflowers naturally curve to face the sun, and the way children have no idea about taxes. Fall in love with the fact that you’re here and you’re still able to feel. Fall in love with the idea that you’re still whole, even when it’s 3 am and you can’t remember how to breathe because you think they taught you how to do that."

- Lessons about Heartbreak from a Hypocrite by Megan M.  (via aplacecalledjericho)

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Source: radicalteen
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Pacifica Fog Fest 2014 #Foodporn #mustlovefood butter and lime drizzled #bbq #oysters #fishandchips #chocolate covered strawberries #happytummy

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fashion encyclopedia: Badgley Mischka spring 2015 rtw

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Source: chandelyer
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