kill the pain.
can we go back, please? ♡♡♡
places i want to go with you:
1) the greek islands
2) las vegas
3) UK
4) sydney
5) germany
& back to nepal ♡
sometimes it’s like you punish me for loving you this much just to see exactly how much that is, how much i’ll take.
thing is, i can’t pretend anymore.
“Must love decorating for holidays, mischief, kissing in cars, and wind chimes. no specific height, weight, hair color, or political affiliation required but would prefer a warm spirited non racist. cynics, critics, pessimists, and “stick in the muds” need not apply. voluptuous figures a plus. any similarity in look, mind set, or fashion sense to mary poppins, claire huxtable, snow white, or elvira wholeheartedly welcomed. i am dubious of actresses, fellons and lesbians but dont want to rule them out entirely. must be tolerant of whistling, tickle torture, james taylor, and sleeping late. i have a slight limp, eerily soft hands, and a preternatural love of autumn. i once misinterpreted being called a coal-eyed dandy as a compliment when it was intended as an insult. i wiggle my feet in my sleep, am scared of the dark, and think the Muppets Christmas Carol is one of the greatest films of all time. all i want is butterfly kisses in the morning, peanut butter sandwiches shaped like a heart, and to make you smile until it hurts.”
-Matthew Gray Gubler, on his perfect woman.
(via chromeheart)
“it’s like you’re screaming, and no one can hear. you almost feel ashamed that someone could be that important, that without them you feel like nothing. no one will ever understand how much it hurts. you feel hopeless, like nothing can save you. and when it’s over and it’s gone, you almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back, so you could have the good.” ❤
I am a butterfly, living in a glass bottle.
my wings beat against the clear glass each time I try to fly.
first bravely, furiously, then pleading and plaintive.
my wings trail bruised and broken but still I dream of true flight, and freedom.
