There’s that word again. Need. I need you. I need you to need me. How nauseating, to need another human being, as if their heart is in your throat. Love isn’t about need. Don’t romanticize the notion of desperation. Let me let you in on a secret: you don’t need me and I don’t need you. We can get through life just fine without each other. Love is not wanting to. We want each other, we want skin and hands and all our daily scars. We want intoxication and art museums and intertwined limbs. We want ferocity in our lips and tracing slow, small circles on our stomachs. I don’t need you in my life, but goddamn I want you in it.
If you’re dating a writer and they don’t write about you — whether it’s good or bad — then they don’t love you. They just don’t. Writers fall in love with the people we find inspiring.
there are people on this website with children
there are people on this website who have their life together
there are people on this website who are award winning novelists
today i tried to smile at someone with water in my mouth and almost died
I’m on my phone so idk what that gif is but i have feeling it’s either spn related or it’s the gif of harry smiling at cho
i miss when i was like 12 and it would be the night before a big field trip or something and i couldnt go to sleep because i was so excited. i miss being so into a book that i would stay up past my bed time reading it. everything seems so bland or something idk. i’m only 19 and everything is so tiring. i miss wanting to be awake
this is the realist shit on this website