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It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came she back was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

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It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

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10:38 PM , 48,407 notes
Saturday , 1030 , Reblog
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Just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are."
John Green, Paper Towns  (via cultivate-solitude)

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10:35 PM , 76,524 notes

folk-punk:

dentist: *shoots you* you’re bleeding b/c you dont floss

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10:13 PM + 369964 + reblog
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Most people die at 25 and aren’t buried until they’re 75"
Benjamin Franklin   (via thegayteen)

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10:13 PM , 513,510 notes
Saturday , 718515 , Reblog
Saturday , 249765 , Reblog
Saturday , 80667 , Reblog
Saturday , 26978 , Reblog
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Think before you speak. Read before you think."
Frances Ann LebowitzThe Fran Lebowitz Reader (via feellng)

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9:40 PM , 1,112 notes
Tuesday , 20 , Reblog
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Treat her like you’re still trying to win her, and that’s how you’ll never lose her."
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10:19 AM , 208,606 notes