Lover | Writer
“How can I love you more?”
What would your answer be?
Communicate with me, even when it makes you mad. Trust me,the same way I do you, with all flaws and insecurities. Remind me, of all the things I do that make you smile. Be present.
Yes, all of what you said.
“I used to wonder why you stopped loving me. Recently, I’ve started asking why I stopped loving myself.”
I’m Trying to Be Better (#608: July 17, 2014)
I want to stay.
I want to leave.
I am three oceans away from my soul.”
Nayyirah Waheed (via wordsnquotes)
It is truly amazing to say, “I don’t care” and mean it and know that others know that you mean it. Liberate yourself.
When someone has only one foot in your life, their partial residence is more agonizing than their absence. Sure, at first you believe you are saving yourself the eternal sting of their vacancy, so you comply with the scant texts, the “let me hit you up” later and the invitations you initiate that they never seem to fully accept or outright deny. They are a master of diplomacy, saying things that do not blatantly make them an asshole but also not saying things that would undoubtedly persuade you of their feelings. Every text becomes a game, every conversation becomes a ball of nerves, every night ends in you sitting up in bed picking apart their sentences until you are down to their syllables.
You convince yourself that this person is good; you collect all of the wrong they have thoughtlessly hurled your way and suppress it with the little they have done right. You know the ratio of right to wrong is shamefully unbalanced, but you ignore the laws of mathematics in favor of the laws of attraction.
You become the eternal optimist, holding on to shreds of hope that this person will wake up and notice you. See you. Love you. Meet you in the middle of the road where you have been standing both alone and freezing cold for some time now. Weeks and months and maybe years have passed. You tried to convince yourself their partial residence was better than their vacancy. Yet, you’ve sold them the estate of your heart. You’ve fought for permanent residency in their life and all you got in return was an I.O.U.
At least if they are completely gone, you can sprawl out in the empty space, scream to the forsaken air, tie yourself back together in the abandoned residence. But, if they are halfway there, you will tip toe around them, you will painstakingly wait for them to make a decision, you will relinquish the rest of your life waiting.
So, either be in my life completely or not at all.”