I don’t care that you got into drugs for three months straight, or how much sleep you lost in that period. I don’t care that you went home and fucked that person and woke up at 6am hating everything about yourself, or that you smoked so much you sounded as though your lungs were giving out.
You’re not a bad person for the ways you tried to kill your sadness.
You’re just human, and being human means you need to survive and you do so whichever way you deem fit, fuck everyone else.
“I love you, but I’m mad at you is one of the most freeing, important things you can say in a stable relationship. Does that make sense? To know that you have the ability and the right to be mad at someone and know that it doesn’t mean things are over, that it doesn’t mean things are irreparable. That it just means I’m mad, but God, I love you. I love you. Now leave me alone.”—To be good, to save nothing (via bdtn)
“Sext: I saw you for the first time in 3 years yesterday and all of a sudden I was 15 again and it was January and I still thought that love smelled like stale Christmas trees and tasted like snow. And we became adults together and fell apart like adults do because they don’t know anything more than children.
Sext: I saw you for the first time in 3 years yesterday, but you did not even act like you recognized me and suddenly I am 18 and it is June and love smells like melting asphalt and tastes like blood.”—"The First One" by Claire Luisa (via siameasy)