I cannot stop thinking about Jared and his stupid kisses. Also can’t stop thinking about m. Stupid, goofy m and the way he flirts with me by putting sandwiches at the back of the bin and making fun of me for being short and the way he kissed me in the freezer, soft & gentle & quick. I feel guilty because I should be thinking about Justin, who loves me, gave up everything so we could have a life together, who just called to warn me about a scammer posing as the electric company. He loves me. So why can’t I stop thinking about other fucking men?

Two years ago I was kissing my best friend in a series of kisses that have come to define the way I am able to love a person now. I went to work in the shirt I had on when I was with him so I could carry his scent and those kisses with me all day. I should not, absolutely should not, miss that boy because he kept leaving and asking me to stay and then leaving me time and time again but right now I do miss him. I wonder if things would be different if we would have been in love with each other at the same time.

Plays: 7,857
Track Name: Take a Chance on Me
Artist: ABBA
Album: ABBA Gold: Greatest Hits

scrape-your-knee:

"Take a Chance on Me" by ABBA

Oh, you can take your time, baby, I’m in no hurry,

I know I’m gonna get you.

You don’t wanna hurt me, baby, don’t worry,

I ain’t gonna let you.

quinngingerlove:

archicide:

"we almost dated" is such a weird relationship to have with someone

Plus the sequel “we never got closure”

And then the side adaptation “as I result I have a weird crush that never died”

someone can be madly in love with you and still not be ready. they can love you in a way you have never been loved and still not join you on the bridge. and whatever their reasons you must leave. because you never ever have to inspire anyone to meet you on the bridge. you never ever have to convince someone to do the work to be ready. there is more extraordinary love, more love that you have never seen, out here in this wide and wild universe. and there is the love that will be ready.
— nayyirah waheed  (via thatkindofwoman)
One day I woke up and we no longer spoke the same language.
I haven’t heard from you since.
— Hishaam Siddiqi, Where Did You Go? (via thememoryofacolor)

walkergordons:

I genuinely don’t know what to say to people who hate ABBA like

if you change your mind

I’m the first in the line

I wonder
who’s arms would I run and fall into
if I were drunk
in a room with everyone
I have ever loved
— unknown (via unlively)
when will be the last time i cry about him? i'm so tired of crying over someone that doesn't care about me and it's mortifying to think all this time has passed and i'm still so incredibly sad
Anonymous

Honestly, I don’t know if the sadness ever really goes away. If you’ve been around since 2012, early that year I was a mess. The first half of that year was easily the worst 6 months of my life to date. My home life was in pieces, shattered to the point of no return. I was in love with Jared and he kept leaving and coming back and leaving again without a word. And then J came into my life and made me feel less sad about Jared. And then I juggled both of them for 3 months, made dumb decisions with J & kissed Jared which ultimately threw our friendship away. And even now, 2 years later, when I am in the happiest, most stable relationship I have ever been in, there are still days when I miss them. There are still days when all I do is lay in bed and write and reminisce about my memories with those two boys until my hand cramps hurt almost as much as my heart.

I don’t think you ever really stop missing anybody. You just find ways to cope with it, to distract yourself, and then eventually it stops for a little while. It’s okay to miss people. I think it’s important to allow yourself that comfort, but don’t get lost in it. Don’t let it take over your life.

And when all else fails, do your eyebrows, put on your favourite lipstick, and tell yourself that you’re a fierce fabulous babe and boys don’t matter. Works for me 90% of the time. ♡

it’s not like there was passion, a build up of any kind. just spontaneity. a natural thing, as easy as breathing. one minute you had your arm around me and the next that hand was holding mine, my lips were on your lips, and there was no backlash. only kissing. soft kisses, gentle kisses, one right after another kisses. you were the first boy who ever told me to stay. i cried on the way home because you and me, through all of our miserable brokenness, we made sense together. you promised me we were special, we would have been special together.

i can’t miss your nicknames, liebling & “my little eva” reserved just for me. i can’t miss the smile you saved for when i was being stubborn and you knew you were right. i can’t miss the way you chain smoked and that time we slow danced in my mother’s kitchen. i can’t miss holding your hand while we were stopped for a train in the stick shift car you don’t even have anymore.

i can’t smoke newport menthols without thinking of you. i can’t watch skins anymore because i got you hooked on it. i can’t listen to take a chance on me because that was our song.

six years of friendship down the tube because we loved each other, just never at the same time. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.

feels like I just got punched in the mouth because I’m remembering the way you taste.

teddy x owen in the scrub room in 6x14 is giving me ALL THE JARED FEELS JESUS CHRIST.

it still blows my mind that justin & i have been together as long as we have because it still feels like just yesterday everything was blowing up in my face.

I was 19 when I finally stopped opening the door for unrequited love.
I was 20 when I first learned that
courage tasted like bitter wine and metal. Like blood and honey.
When I told you I loved you,
I screamed it. I let it rip
it’s way out of my throat, and
it felt so good that I cried.
The other day, you walked by me
with your friends and I could feel the pity in your stare.
Don’t you do that.
Don’t you look at what I had for you and call it weak.
Not when you were the one afraid of it.
I stood there with my hands open,
my mouth bruised tender with supplication.
Don’t you dare treat me like a victim of my own emotions, like being
moved to my knees by love
was a mistake that I regret.
I will go to my grave with the memory
of the bravery in my bones.
I am not ashamed of any of it.
Not the closed door in my face
or the static silence of my phone
for weeks after.
I was not afraid.
I am still not afraid.
I will never be afraid again.
Bring in the beasts with teeth
like tree branches.
Bring in all the men who will never love me.
Bring in the monsters with
faces carved out of stone.
I am not afraid.
They can eat me alive.
I am not afraid.
I will cut my way out of their bellies.
I am not afraid.
Never again.
— Unrequited | Caitlyn S. (via alonesomes)