just gotta love yourself

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it scares me that you never know what someone is thinking or feeling towards you and everything that they say could be one massive lie

(Source: wh1rring, via the-absolute-funniest-posts)

What To Do After A Break Up | Lora Mathis  (via 99teen)

(Source: lora-mathis, via unterrible)

Buy half-price lingerie and model it in your bedroom for yourself. Feel like you have a secret because you’re wearing black, see-through underwear while talking to your teacher about your next assignment. Glance at attractive strangers on public transportation. When they look back, hold their gaze for a few seconds. Smile. Get their number. Get off the train and never see them again, riding the high of your mutual minute of understanding. Accept more dinner invitations with people who spark your interest, romantically or not. Keep yourself busy with the things your relationship used to keep you from doing. Practice a hobby. Learn a new language and feel how good it is to say “goodbye” in a new way. Fuck yourself in the shower. Begin to appreciate sex in a way you couldn’t before. Sing along to pop songs without guilt. Buy yourself flowers to tuck behind your ear. Laugh easily. Let the ache hollow out more room for you to grow. When you catch your ex on the street six months later, smile when they tell you you’ve changed. Consider telling them you are a wildfire that burned over the places they touched. Consider reminding them you cannot know every space in someone by running your fingers over them. For a second, consider asking them to take you back and then laugh because you are no longer the same person they held. You are a wildfire and the world is made of brush. Go ahead and burn.

Violet Young, The Urge To Rip Up Love And Start Again (via feellng)

(Source: feellng)

Start by thinking less, I tell myself. Do more. Love more, and it will come back to you. So far in life I’ve done the opposite. Like some mysterious sea creature, I’ve loved from afar, then added more and more protective and hostile layers the closer I’ve gotten to the object of my affection. The longer the relationship, the more I’ve seemed to withhold. Why? Because, I think, shedding those layers would mean I would eventually come to know myself. What a terrifying thought.
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