In the end there doesn’t have to be anyone who understands you. There just has to be someone who wants to.

croutoncat:

The year is 2070, and famous musician Justin Timberlake has just died. People all over the world start crying, it’s a global catastrophe, but soon something emerges. An entire lake of human tears, spanning all the way across the Americas, has been formed. Justin Timberlake’s dream of someone ‘Crying him a river’ has been finally fulfilled, he can now rest in peace.

• person: do u want to hang out
• me: i have to ask my mom
• me: *doesn't ask her*
• me: she said no

• therapist: i feel u

I wonder if you know yet that you’ll leave me. That you are a child playing with matches and I have a paper body. You will meet a girl with a softer voice and stronger arms and she will not have violent secrets or an affection for red wine or eyes that never stay dry. You will fall into her bed and I’ll go back to spending Friday nights with boys who never learn my last name.

I have chased off every fool who has tried to sleep beside me. You think it’s romantic to fuck the girl who writes poems about you. You think I’ll understand your sadness because I live inside my own.
But I will show up at your door at 2 am, wild-eyed and sleepless. And try and find some semblance of peace in your breastbone and you will not let me in. You will tell me to go home.

You can’t just make me different and then leave.

thecompanionsdoctor:

My week is basically:

• Monday
• Monday #2
• Monday #3
• Monday #4
• Friday
• Saturday
• Pre-Monday