“I think there is something beautiful in reveling in sadness. The proof is how beautiful sad songs can be. So I don’t think being sad is to be avoided. It’s apathy and boredom you want to avoid. But feeling anything is good, I think. Maybe that’s sadistic of me.”—Joseph Gordon-Levitt (via jesseekkah)
I’m feeling strangly apprehensive. I keep trying to write everything I miss, everything I’m feeling right now, but it’s not coming out right. Words won’t string together in a way that makes sense. I want to move backward, I want to move forward, I want to move on, I just want to move.
“I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all that I never got the chance to tell you that, no matter what happens next, I’ll never be anything but grateful for every moment I spent with you. And even though I keep fumbling for the right words, all I really wanted to say was thank you.”—The Land of Women (via kari-shma) (via lovebot)
“And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.”—Sylvia Plath (via thechocolatebrigade)
I had the perfect place for us to watch the water.
We’re all looking for something (but really all we want is to hear that we’re enough) A hand to hold, a bite to eat the missing back to an earring (but really all we want is to hear that we’re enough) I want to write about wiping your drunk tears in a dusty vestibule about listening to the shouting from my room, holding an old bear like it can hug back about how much every mirror picture we ever took still means about holding your hand on a long, late car ride but the right words won’t stop swirling in my head long enough to settle on a page (all we want is to hear that we’re enough)