Do you even know how many stuffed animals I sleep with when you’re not here,...– a line from the novel (via papercrushed)
Sometimes the longing is so intense that I feel...
My chest feels like it won’t expand as much as I know it should, and all I want is to have enough air to exhale steadily without shaking. And even though the room and my apartment and the very fabric of the world is full of oxygen, it just doesn’t seem to be enough. It’s in those moments that I realize—it’s not air that my lungs are screaming for. It’s you.
xsandos: Dear You, I miss you so much that my body physically aches. I weep in a way I’ve never cried about anything. I eat too much or not at all. I sleep that way too. I want to hold you, or for you to hold me. I want you to touch all the parts of me that hurt. And you can’t do that from where you are. You say you understand, but you don’t know how badly I need you. No one does. And that...
Sometimes I just want to scream, "Use your words,...
I know you love me, miss me, want me. Would it kill you to say it every now and then?
My hole. It’s what I’ve come to call the empty feeling in the center of my belly that seems to come out of nowhere at the most inopportune of times. I’ll be in the middle of writing an email, or sitting on the train on my way home from work and I’ll feel it open up inside me. Sometimes it’s sudden, like I’m a thin sheet of paper being shoved into a hole-puncher...
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry– E. E. Cummings
Tonight, I'm angry.
I’m pissed off and fucking mad as hell. At you. At your job. At the fact that you left me here. Sometimes I can only feel that part of it—the leaving—and all logic goes out the window. Tonight is one of those times. I want to punch something. I want to punch you. But I also just want you to say that it will be ok. Because right now, it doesn’t feel like it ever will be.
I miss you more when it rains.
I'm afraid to go to bed because I know I'll cry...
Go, go if you must and I will lie here waiting for you to come back.– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
That tight feeling in the pit of my stomach that comes out of nowhere. It’s the first time all week I’ve been able to sit still, and it’s like my body was waiting for a quiet moment to let the weight of your absence settle. I saw your hair on my towel and almost immediately my stomach twisted. Your hair is here, but you are not. That was all I could think for a solid five...
It probably gets pretty lonely being Grandma, don’t you think?” I told her “It...– Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via papercrushed)
I would never cheat on you.
I just found out that one of my friends cheated on her long-time boyfriend. I’m not judging her for what she did. To be frank, cheating actually fascinates me because I honestly don’t think it would be physically possible for me to cheat. I don’t understand how you can love someone but do those intimate, special things with someone else. Distance is hard. Really hard. But I...
Squeeze me harder now and let your hands show my back how much you missed me.– Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson (via tylerknott)
And sometimes, it just needs to be said. So I can acknowledge the sadness, cry, and move on.
Things I've realized today:
I really don’t like most people. Like, people generally suck. A lot. And even when they don’t inherently suck, I don’t want to, like, be around most of them any more than I have to. The more I realize that said people suck, the more I want to only spend time with the people that matter, i.e. my real friends, my family, my boyfriend who lives thousands of miles away. And since I can’t be...
I'm going to see you in T-minus 4 days.
And the space between then and now is killing me.
My chest feels tight, and I can’t breathe easily, no matter how hard I try. The silent and invisible weight of your absence is crushing me. It’s at once completely abstract and entirely palpable. The coldness that spreads over my arms and legs, the dull ache in the pit of my stomach, the tension in my shoulders, the trembling in my hands. The anger is so hot that it burns and the sadness is so...
I feel a cry coming on...
My bed’s too big for just me.– Ra Ra Riot (via hiddenpages)
I haven't felt full in a very long time.
And I wonder how much of it is mental. I eat when I’m lonely. I eat when I’m sad. I eat when I’m tired or bored or cranky, and I can’t remember a time recently where I haven’t felt hungry. I’ve always loved food, but this feels different. This feels like I’m eating for all the wrong reasons, and in my mind I know no amount of food will fill the hole you...
I am learning to enjoy solitude.
And I think that if I can learn to focus more on enjoying the time I have to myself and less on the absences I feel, I’ll be a much happier, much more productive person. Because if I’m honest, this is probably the last time in my life when I’ll be able to have uninterrupted ”me-time” on the daily basis. So I shouldn’t take it for granted.
My funk is over for the moment.
All it took was 1 party, a few FaceTime calls, 3 sad movies, a few cups of tea, A LOT of music, and some writing. But I feel good.
My room feels wrong The bed won’t fit I cannot seem to operate And you my...– Ingrid Michaelson (via hiddenpages)
I am not built for this kind of cold.
Especially without you here to keep me warm. So I sleep under piles of blankets. I cover myself with comforters and hope for comfort that doesn’t come. I write in footie pajamas and cook in your sweatshirts. I curl into a tiny ball with my knees near my heart whenever I’m given the chance, and I wish in vain for your warm hands. And when I must leave my apartment (for work, for life),...
I'm a horrible human being.
I feel myself complaining. I hear it. And we both know I write it down and reread it. And in the brief moments of clarity I have, I realize—I’m a horrible human being. I’m reminded of the Louis CK interview where he talks about how everything is amazing and no one is happy and I feel like the biggest douche on earth. I have an amazing family. A great apartment. My dream job, and...
Sometimes talking to you about it helps.
But sometimes, hearing your voice or seeing your face only throws me into further hysterics. I never know which it’s gonna be.
This is helping.
Writing it down instead of only thinking it. I’m sure there will still be plenty of nights when it won’t help. When I’ll get overwhelmed and bogged down with thoughts and feelings that nothing can cure except a good hard cry (or maybe you coming back to me immediately). But tonight, this is really, genuinely helping.
I just want to get drunk and make out.
We don’t even have to fuck. …or maybe we could fuck too.
That’s how much of this country lies between us right, at this very moment. I know this because I just went to Google Maps and typed in my address, then requested driving directions to yours. If I got into my car now, and if we lived in a world where unforeseen circumstances didn’t exist, (and if I didn’t sleep), I could be at your doorstep in 1 day and 23 hours. I don’t...