"The end is never the end"

23. Indiana


Flatbread Pizza with Caramelized Onions, Spinach, Feta and Tomatoes

(Source: lawebloca, via aphroditea)

damn it molly


I like cold iced tea on a hot afternoon. I like it on a cold afternoon too. I like fruits and vegetables more than I like meat. I like sitting outside and not hearing lawn mowers. But, I do like the smell of fresh cut grass. I like looking at myself in the mirror and feeling okay - even though most of the time I do not. I like painting my nails, even though I pick off the nail polish two days later. I like cold beer. I like feeling loved and appreciated - often the people that mean the most to us forget to tell us. I like being unemployed because that means I don’t have to sit in a cold, boring cubical all day and call that life. But I also like having money, so maybe I need to figure out a job that makes me happy. I like watching ducks. I think they’re cute and I like to try to envision how they’re feeling. I like using spell check because I don’t like to look dumb misspelling words. I like not being judged for using spell check.

I am scared of dying. I am scared of my loved ones dying. I am scared that I have a million diseases inside of me but I won’t find out until it’s too late. People say I’m a hypochondriac, but I can’t help it. I’m scared of my boyfriend leaving me for someone better. I’m scared that he doesn’t love and appreciate me as much as I appreciate him. I’m scared that he doesn’t see a future with me and I’m just gonna be left heartbroken after all these years.

Lots of things make me happy, and quite a few things make me sad. But in the end, it’s this crazy thing that we call life - and I guess we have to live it, no matter what happens. 

"Sometimes you’re flush and sometimes you’re bust. And when you’re up, it’s never as good as it seems. And when you’re down, you never think you’ll be up again - but life goes on. "

I’m atomic man, I’m the moon that pulls the tides that take the sand

This is how you lose her.

You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.

You must remember when she forgets.

You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.

She remembers when you forget.

You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.

You must learn her.

You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.

You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.

And, this is how you keep her.

—   Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her (via golden-notes)

(via theworldgetsloud)

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