” They loved each other, not driven by necessity, by the “blaze of passion” often falsely ascribed to love. They loved each other because everything around them willed it, the trees and the clouds and the sky over their heads and the earth under their feet. Perhaps their surrounding world, the strangers they met in the street, the wide expanses they saw on their walks, the rooms in which they lived or met, took more delight in their love than they themselves did.”
i sit and think about my life as a sofia coppola film
hurt is wanting and waiting
life is seriously SO beautiful
to think that things are always and will always change makes me sick
(via definitelydope)
young and bored in a small town, with big plans and bigger thoughts, we just kept holding our breath for the moment to strike when we’d figure out the purpose and the meaning behind all of this.
i let someone get to close to me last summer. a boy with hair in his eyes. a boy who would sit outside of his house until i would pull up. the first boy i let break someboundaries. the third to see my flaws. a boy who got me in so much trouble, my mother boiled with anger. i slammed doors back then. i was defiant.
i like the comfort of things.
the comfort of that warm red couch.
and the comfort of that grey t shirt that i’m afraid to wash
the comfort i get from jamesmercers voice
or that swear word that starts with an “S”
the comfort of feeling fine. that weird comfort from feeling perfectly okay
summer sisters
