Wallflower's Welcome

"Fear is the parent of cruelty"
Fifteen to twenty one year olds is actually rape not love.

Fifteen to twenty one year olds is actually rape not love.

(via krankenhaus)

I have loved to the point of madness.

Postsecret

Postsecret

under their breath, someone said.

warsanshire:

by the time i’ve finished with you, you won’t know whether you’ve been kissed or cut, whether you were loved or butchered. and either way you probably won’t care, just grateful you came close enough to touch. 

nogatesofwhite:

surfandsalt:

fuckitletsgobowling:

therecklesslifee:

explicitit:

drainedenergy:

travelerschecks:

featherumbrellas:

lmfaoswed:

m-ayflower:

the last sentence :(

Everything is perfect until the last sentence…

I think i’ve got a million comments about the last sentence, but that’s the entire point to the poem. You fall in love with the feeling of being wanted, you fall in love with the places you visit, the routine, and mostly you fall in love with being comfortable. You are there because you want to be able to love that person, but you can’t force yourself, and you won’t. 

the last sentence is what makes this so perfect. it’s honest and a twist that you aren’t expecting and I love that in writing.

this is actually one of the most beautiful things i have ever read..

How I always feel about people.

wow.

Holy shit.


Fuck this is my favorite thing in this world

I don’t even know how many times I’ve reblogged this.

nogatesofwhite:

surfandsalt:

fuckitletsgobowling:

therecklesslifee:

explicitit:

drainedenergy:

travelerschecks:

featherumbrellas:

lmfaoswed:

m-ayflower:

the last sentence :(

Everything is perfect until the last sentence…

I think i’ve got a million comments about the last sentence, but that’s the entire point to the poem. You fall in love with the feeling of being wanted, you fall in love with the places you visit, the routine, and mostly you fall in love with being comfortable. You are there because you want to be able to love that person, but you can’t force yourself, and you won’t. 

the last sentence is what makes this so perfect. it’s honest and a twist that you aren’t expecting and I love that in writing.

this is actually one of the most beautiful things i have ever read..

How I always feel about people.

wow.

Holy shit.

Fuck this is my favorite thing in this world

I don’t even know how many times I’ve reblogged this.

(via disincentive)

Ten Relationship Words That Aren't Translatable Into English

  • Mamihlapinatapei (Yagan, an indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego): The wordless yet meaningful look shared by two people who desire to initiate something, but are both reluctant to start.
  • Yuanfen (Chinese): A relationship by fate or destiny. This is a complex concept. It draws on principles of predetermination in Chinese culture, which dictate relationships, encounters and affinities, mostly among lovers and friends.
  • Cafuné (Brazilian Portuguese): The act of tenderly running your fingers through someone's hair.
  • Retrouvailles (French): The happiness of meeting again after a long time.
  • Ilunga (Bantu): A person who is willing to forgive abuse the first time; tolerate it the second time, but never a third time.
  • La Douleur Exquise (French): The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.
  • Koi No Yokan (Japanese): The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall into love.
  • Ya’aburnee (Arabic): “You bury me.” It’s a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person, because of how difficult it would be to live without them.
  • Forelsket: (Norwegian): The euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love.
  • Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for someone that you love and is lost. Another linguist describes it as a "vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist."

Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means that someone can get up inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life. You give them a piece of you. They don’t ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness so a simple phrase like ‘Maybe we should just be friends’ or ‘How very perceptive’ turns into a glass splinter working it’s way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love.

Neil Gaiman (The Kindly Ones)

This is love.

(Source: quote-book)