i wish i had blue eyes not brown

youarewhatyoulove:

i apologize too much

for things i shouldn’t be sorry for

i do this as well

I miss when

skyeblue:

there was that possibility that you would just show up at my door on a Wednesday afternoon and say, “Let’s go for a drive.” I miss how you would actually do this, how we would be not speaking for a month or two, and you would just knock on my door and everything would come rushing back. All the feelings that probably could have been love if we weren’t both so scared of it, if we both hadn’t held back at all, if we had just given into it. I miss how you would tuck my stray hairs behind my ear while we ate french fries and ketchup at our favorite diner. I miss how you would make me laugh until my stomach hurt every single time we were together. I miss how our arguments were always just because we didn’t want to let the other one in too far. I miss how our arguments never mattered, because the feelings were always, always, always still there when you showed up there at my door. I miss how you would dance with me in your car when some cheesy eighties song played on the radio. I miss how we would drive through the canyons too fast with all the windows rolled down and talk about everything we were afraid of. There was that one time you admitted softly to me, as the sun was almost completely hidden behind the hills, and Grapevine Fires was playing in your stereo, that you were so fucking scared of getting hurt because I meant too much to you. And I told you to pull over, so you did, and I kissed you, hard. It wasn’t our first kiss, but it was the first kiss that meant what it should have always meant those other times. And we couldn’t stop kissing each other for weeks. I miss how we would sneak out and meet each other at the park on all those summer nights at midnight. It was always so peaceful, no one ever on the roads so we would lay in the middle of the streets for the rush and look into each others’ eyes without ever saying a word. But then, on one of those nights, you chose to speak and you said the words I was always afraid you would say, because I couldn’t say them back, no, not yet. I might have been able to, but later, not then, because I hadn’t given in yet. So when you did it hurt because I knew I was going to hurt you. And I did, because I told you it had to be over. We didn’t talk for months and months and months… until that cold, January day you showed up at my door, like you always had and I told you what I should have told you then: I love you. I love you. I love you. And you took me in your arms and everything felt right for a while, until then it wasn’t again. Because you backed off just when I was warming up and now we haven’t talked for almost a year and I miss you so much but you won’t return my calls or answer my letters and now I know it is really over. But I never want to have to remember you as my first love, because it hurts too much.

this doesnt relate to my life at all but its just so fucking beautiful

I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore.

suicideunderground:

partytights:floatingintheblue:(via nostalgicdreams)