I will wake up at three AM
And I will roll over
Into your arms.
You will rub my back
Until I fall back to sleep.
I will wait for that.
I just went back to my first post ever on Tumblr. Wow I was a mess 3 years ago.
I didn’t know what hate felt like, not the hate that comes after love. It’s huge and desperate and it longs to be proved wrong. And every day it’s proved right, it grows a little more monstrous. If the love was passion, the hate will be obsession. A need to see the once-loved weak and cowed beneath pity. Disgust is close and dignity is far away. The hate is not only for the once loved, it’s for yourself too; how could you ever have loved this?
Sometimes you need to burn bridges to stop yourself from crossing them again.
The worst thing about falling to pieces is that humans can do it so quietly.
Rachel: “You named a star after me?”
Finn: “Well, no. I, uh, thought about that, but then I named it Finn Hudson. Because there’s already a star named Rachel Berry. And she’s right here on earth and she’s brighter than any of those stars up there. So I just wanted to make sure that whenever she feels lonely, she can look up in the sky, and no matter where I am, she can know that I’m looking down on her.”
Why doesn’t this exist.