"All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a lover’s sweater or “forgotten” it at home in your bedroom just so you would have an excuse to see them again. You have never even stood face-to-face with someone who makes your hands shake so hard it feels like they’re both having a separate anxiety attack.
This causes you much guilt and self-blame and sadness but above all, an overwhelming curiosity. Are you really that ugly, that unwanted, that uninteresting, that boring, that no one, absolutely no one, has ever looked at you like the only thing on earth?
The answer is no. The better answer is that someone out there, somewhere in the world, is “wondering what it’s like to meet someone like you,” and they have two decades worth of love stored in their veins like a shoot-‘em-up drug, and they’re just about ready to inject it into someone else’s bloodstream. All you have to do is roll up your sleeves and wait for it to happen.
At times you felt so lonely you could stand at the edge of a cliff with nothing beneath you but air and grass and a long, long way down, and you’d still feel emptier than that canyon itself. Maybe you even danced with yourself alone in your room a few times, arms outstretched around a ghost, pretending someone else’s hands were on your waist, someone else’s eyes boring into yours.
Or maybe you fell temporarily in love with strangers on public transportation, fell in love with anybody who so much as accidentally brushed your hand on the way past. For you, falling in love with dozens of people a day was a coping mechanism for not having anyone to love you in return. But people are not eggs and falling in love with a dozen of them does not mean your shell will remain uncracked. One day you’re going to hit the point where you’re so desperate for human contact that you’re going to snap in half and all your love will bleed out like egg yolk.
But someone out there is eating a bowl of Ramen noodles right now, or putting on slippers, or settling into bed. They are doing all the normal things that you’ve done in your own life. They are just like you. They have cellulite and extra fat in all the wrong places and goals and fears and doubts and bad handwriting.
The truth is that they are just like you, and being just like you, they’re looking for a lover too. They’re what you might call a soulmate.
They think they’re all alone in feeling the way they do, but you’re really both two halves of a whole.
And one day you’ll meet them, bump into them on the street, and your two halves will be put together, and you’ll make one."

Writings For Winter - For Twenty Year-Olds who have never been loved
(via beepboopboopbeep)

This made me cry.

(via lovelylittlebonez)

230427 notes / 4 months ago / reblog
"He’s going to fuck you up and you’re going to let him." - Most sober thing a drunk person could ever say to you.  (via n-0-s-t-a-l-g-i-aa)

(Source: w-r-i-st-s)

349754 notes / 4 months ago / reblog
"Twenty years from now it won’t matter what shoes you wore, how your hair looked, or what kind of jeans you bought. What will matter is what you learned and how you used it." - Unknown (via perfect)

(Source: quotethat)

30537 notes / 5 months ago / reblog

He is so beautiful,
I wish his soul
and heart
belonged to me.

But his arms
belong to her
when he’s a bit tipsy
and his legs
fall on top of another’s
when he’s drunk.
And some days
his smile is only for that one
and his words
cling to another’s skin
at night.

Even when I taste
your lips,
I know you are not mine.
And when you
look into my eyes
and open up my mind,
I know your heart
is still sheltered
and stapled shut.

I wish all of you
belonged to me,
the way I will always
belong to you.
I hope one day,
it does.

- Ming D. LiuBut I Belong To You (via mingdliu)
561 notes / 5 months ago / reblog