(via nevver)
(Source: nelivieira, via roseguts)
I was so nervous talking to a man that I have admired for twelve years of my life. The man who let me know as a child that miserable things happen and that’s perfectly normal. The same man who helped me overcome my fear of reading after being screamed at by my teacher that I would never be able to read anything my grade level, only to have a college level reading skill by the end of sixth grade. My motivation to write and keep doing whatever I want because no matter who tries to bring me down, I know that I can overcome it just like I did those years ago.
I blushed and stuttered, barely getting out a ‘this may sound dorky, but thank you for everything you’ve done for me’. I hadn’t told him the tragedies that had gone on in my life in specifics. I thanked him for giving me a chance when so many adults did not and how I found it ironic that I still love a series about miserable children when I practically went through the same thing. And even though I’ve heard ‘I’m sorry’ so many times about every death, every terrible thing that has happened, I have never heard one so sincere.
Here I was beating myself up about failing to convey myself in front of this wonderful man. How I missed my chance. Putting my things away, I grabbed my book and peeked inside to see this. And I began to cry.
This is a man who I have never met before. A man I have only dreamt of meeting since I was very small. But yet in one small sentence he has managed to move me entirely. A sentence that has needed to be said for a long time now.
‘To Bridget, who has suffered enough.’
(via roseguts)
(Source: ccal, via thatkindofwoman)
hamsters mean so much to me i’m not even joking about it
(Source: chinchillahime, via girl-violence)
(Source: casanovajones)
(Source: colourthysoul, via milkwolves)
snapchattin’ all day//everyday
1 week ago - 
4
4And yet, for all your ego, you still find yourself consciously searching for him in every crowd, expecting him to appear like a happy phantom around every sharp corner. You still fall captivated at his sidelong gaze, unable to acknowledge anyone else when he’s in the room. You hang back to walk beside him; you’re drawn like a magnent to his touch, any touch. Even after all this time, even after trying for years to forget him and love the one you’re with with as much fiery bravado, his is still the face you see over and over in your restless dreams, his is still the name you wake up calling as those dreams fade away. After a few minutes awake you’re left with nothing but the feeling of being with him, but that fades too, after a while.
(Source: hollowedheartsandhelpinghands, via thatkindofwoman)
(Source: digbicks, via daughterofhungryghosts)
(via milkwolves)
