the days we wait for

I'm Will, a 21 year old student with addictions to traveling and napping. I don't know where i'm going but i'm on my way.

I really thought that I wanted you, or thought you were going to be the one. I have spent so many years, so much of my love and my time dedicating myself to you. To wanting to restore your view on forever. To show you that anyone can love, but it takes true courage when it comes to really meaning it. And for awhile there, I really thought I meant it. But then one morning, I woke up to find you next to me, and then finding myself wishing you weren’t there, and that I was alone, and you were somewhere with someone who actually wanted to see your true self in the morning light. And that’s when I knew that I was really over this, finally over you. When I felt the feeling of wanting you to be with someone who actually wanted this just as much as you do.

"I thought that I knew," - Colleen Brown

(Source: mostlyfiction, via illstayawhile)

california-bluebonnet:

remember tumblr:

it’s pretty important to find your drift partner, don’t get me wrong. but it’s also really really important to find your control room team— y’know, that group of people that you love and trust and despite (or because of) not being able to actually read your mind, still watch your back all the time and aren’t afraid to override the controls and manually shut your shit down to save your fucking lives.

remember those people too.

(Source: chicago-bluebonnet, via munnisonlinelogwy)

My entire life can be described in one sentence: It didn’t go as planned, and that’s okay.

—Rachel Wolchin

(Source: larmoyante, via serenade-mysoul)

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.

—Some things are better left unsaid

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry, via hippiebabysitter)