and I could care less
whether it is in
layers upon layers
or only our skin–
all I really want is to wake up
where I end and you begin. - Beau Taplin, "A Goodnight" (via floranymph)
i love physical touch. like not even kissing and stuff just like. sitting next to each other with our arms touching or our legs overlapping or walking next to each other with our arms brushing i love knowing im real i love existing with people i love it
the worst part about depression that’s on again off again is that you can never tell if you’re making progress and actually feeling better or if you just had a couple of good days and the second something goes wrong you’ll be right back where you started.
And I’m sorry for the way I shivered when you told me that you played the piano. It’s just that all I could remember was my 15-year old self trying to fall asleep to my favorite classical piano CD every night to drown out the residual screaming just minutes before.
And whenever we’re about to leave your house, I can feel your eyes on me when I hug your mother goodbye. I know that you find it endearing and a little strange. I’ve come to terms that holding onto her long enough still won’t bring mine back.
I promise you, I’m not broken. But just a forewarning, I might be a little bent. Carrying 50 years of the possible future onto your back until 3 in the morning every night will do that to you.
I was so numb before I met you. And I’m not one to beg, but please bear with me and stay a while. You’re the first thing in a long time that’s ever been able to make me feel anything at all. - Connotativewords | jl | Slowly (via lightfell)