Have you ever just looked at someone and thought, “I really love you”. They’re just talking or humming or watching a movie or reading a book or laughing or something, and there’s something about them in that moment—their body is alive, there’s a light in their eyes, something—that makes you think, “I just really love you.” It’s a weird sensation to think this, but it’s pretty awesome that we can feel this way about another being.
I scrounge for change. I bring my own travel mug
to school because it’s cheaper that way. I start books
but do not finish them. I think about love obsessively.
Everything I do reminds me of my grandfather.
My grandmother visits and talks to me about God,
wants me to believe, but I do not have that kind of faith.
I only believe in the easy things, like red lipstick
and coffee before noon and writing essays in pen.
I make my mind up about boys and then I unmake it,
compare us to continental drift, two ships passing.
I hit the snooze button too often. Write disposable
poems on napkins and old homework, try to discipline
myself when it comes to removing my makeup
before bed. I am trying to understand men better,
cut them some slack, write about them less. I dream
about oceans and mountains and wolves. I do not
always love myself. I do not always forgive myself.
I write apology letters and do not send them. Usually,
I do not mean it when I tell someone “goodbye.”❞
This has to be one of my favorite things I’ve ever read on Tumblr
if you are going to continually bring coffee to me at work you definitely get a date, and a hang out, and a kiss, and a sleepover.
i do not remember my first kiss, like at all. I could tell you who it was with but not when, where, or any kind of memory of it. very very strange. especially since I have a relatively good memory.
because i have.