Life Would Be So Different If I Was A Bookshop Owner In A Small Village Near Some Forest, Who Has A Secret

Why is nobody talking about Chole or Sam or Sophia or Marcus? Like why ? That song is so good. Like wishing the other person happiness and at the same time wanting a closer like just tell me that you loved me and it's going to be fine(my mental peace), I don't want to hate you, I just wanted to hear that you loved me once and I know it didn't workout between us but I still want to know what you will be up to in your life later, let me be a part of it (like maybe exes on good terms) even if you and I both have someone in our lives.

so we could call it even you could call be babe for the weekend tis the damn season write this down staying at my parents’ house and the road not taken looks real good now time flies messy as the mud in your truck tires now i’m missing your smile hear me out we could just ride around and the road not taken looks real good now and it always leads to you in my hometown 

“…and I suppose that the reason I hated him was because when someone you love leaves you, you have to hate them to get over them. Because if they don’t want you anymore and you still love them, how do you survive?”

In Greek, "nostalgia” literally means "the pain from an old wound”. It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. It goes backwards and forwards, it takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called the wheel, it’s called the carousel. It let’s us travel the way a child travels - around and around, and back home again, to a place where we know we are loved.

Don Draper, “The Wheel”

I'll change every version of myself to fit in. I've been having a hard time adjusting. Had the shiniest wheels now they're rusting. My cheeks are growing tired from growing red and faking smiles. Are we only biding time until I lose your affection? Ive got a hundren thrown out speeches i almost said to you. I have a lot of regrets about that. I'm a mirrorball. They see right through me. I cut off my nose just to spite my face. I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush. Will you still want me when I'm nothing new? You are so much older and wiser. Lord what will become of me when I've lost my novelty? You tolerate me. I sit and watch you.

the thing is, i knew i was going to lose you and i knew it was going to hurt. however, i often find myself up at night, thinking about what could have been.

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“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is pulled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry , beauty , romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

-dead poets society

I guess I‘ll never forget you, no matter how hard I try

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W. I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.” 

  ―Jane Austen, Persuasion