Try not to feel jealous about things, or people or places. It’s toxic. Just keep living. You will find your happiness.
I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.” I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
Maya Angelou (via arbors)
it’s not romantic to miss someone who doesn’t miss you
it’s not romantic to keep love locked in your chest like a stone
it’s not romantic to cry when they’re in someone else’s arms
it’s not romantic to sketch lines into your skin tallying how many days they’ve been gone
through the darkness so fucking thick you can’t even see straight
through the nights you’re unsure whether the sun will rise in the morning
you think it’s romantic that they were there for you
but you forget you’ve been there for yourself since the beginning
from the day you were born to the thousands that have elapsed since
you’re the only constant
do you understand that?
you’ve held yourself through the days when you heart is cracking
you’re the only one who heard the noise and you’re the only one who listened
it was never them, don’t you see?
it was always you
it will always be you
Fortesa Latifi - When It’s 1 In the Morning and I Realize I’m My Own Hero (via madgirlf)
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
Whenever we manage to love without expectations,
calculations, negotiations, we are indeed in heaven.
Rumi (via emotional-algebra)
We were lying face to face, and the words ‘I like this, I like you’ were crawling all over my teeth. I just didn’t have the strength to open my mouth and let it fall out.
I’ve been listening to the same album for two weeks and the CD is a little scratched but yesterday was the first time in four years I didn’t speed while I was driving
I think I’m slowing down
my heart doesn’t fight with my rib cage anymore
its calmed down
settled like a pearl in a jewelry box
we dissected a pig in lab the other day and all I could think was has anyone ever realized before that lungs look like butterfly wings
I pictured my own fluttering when I breathe
coffee is in all of my poems but the truth is I’ve started to drink more tea
the honey drips from my spoon and onto my lips and if anyone kissed me, they’d get stuck for a millisecond before they pulled away sticky and just a little wet
I think they might like it
they’d feel my lips even after I was gone and this is taking into consideration that the kind of kisses I give these days are the kind that someone would want to feel after I’m gone
my dad told me to think of my life as a tree
honey you have to cut the branches that weigh you down
and I did
and guess what
I’m thinking of painting my nails a light blue like the sky in the morning
to be honest I only know the sky is light blue in the morning because other people have told me
I’ve made it a rule to never open my eyes before 9 and I usually don’t shut them before 12
last week in class my teacher said what age would you be if you didn’t know what age you were
and one kid said I feel like I’m 65, my back hurts
and another said I think I might be 7, I still love to color outside of the lines
and when she asked me I said I feel exactly the age I am
and I really do, I’m 20
and what that means is I’m an adult sometimes like when I remember to put in my retainers before bed or when I wash all the dishes before they start to spill out of the sink and onto the counters
but then sometimes I fuck up
for lack of a better term
actually, let me think of a better term
I mess around, that’s what I do
last Friday I licked the top of my hand and drizzled tiny pebbles of salt onto it,
poured tequila into my mouth and bit into a lime
laughed with my friends and the world was spinning a little but I loved it
a boy dropped me off at home at 4:30 in the morning and when I woke up a couple of hours later I still smelled like tequila
I think I like myself best a little off balance
Fortesa Latifi - I Like Myself Best a Little Off Balance (via exoticwild)