Food with friends, birthdays, campfire marshmallows, and pictures of a city I’m falling hard for from a boy who is making it easy to fall.  

"Stop lighting these fires in me
That we both know
You never wanted to burn."

Please (via et-tu-dionyse)

definition of a flirt…

(via rufiozuko)

(via rufiozuko)


I think this is the most romantic thing to ever happen to me


I think this is the most romantic thing to ever happen to me

(via tastefullyoffensive)



This morning the air still smelled like campfire and it’s nice to say I fell asleep and stayed that way under the happy ruse that things between us could ever work.
Five hours is a long drive. Throw in the complication that we’re both constantly on flights or in cars taking us away from home bases and you have the map of my life. I’ve always been running from someone and the time that it feels like I don’t have to run is the time that I don’t dictate my own circumstances.
Let’s add a few road blocks, as well, shall we? We have lives that we haven’t discussed. And I know some of your secrets, even if you’ve tried to push them out of the picture. Despite that, I still want this, even in those moments when it feels like the world is telling me I shouldn’t.
Everything I touch seems to turn into a long shot, a far reach, a silly thing that works against me. I tried so hard not to touch you. I tried to stay quiet, I tried to be calm, I tried to let you lead, I even left when it was too much and I was afraid to push my luck. I don’t do things like that. This is how I know.

Here’s to staying up too late, to drinking double, to seeing double as a result, to knowing when to kiss the boy and when to drive home, to new adventures, to old songs, and to feeling like the bumble bees in your stomach have turned into butterflies.

Here’s to tonight. Here’s to knowing when something is right. Here’s to being brave. Here’s to staying honest. Here’s to everything I couldn’t say or do.

Here’s to wishing I could turn my car around and sleep on a cloud.


"So touch me or don’t, just let me know where you’ve been.”

(via pmon3y69)



No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

(Dead Poets Society, 1989)


(via thefuuuucomics)

Today is one of those I don’t know what I’m doing with my life days because things have been perfect lately and now I’m going to fuck it all up because there’s this boy who gives me that flushed-face-feeling from last summer (when I knew I was making mistakes and did it anyway) so I know that means I like him and that’s a terrible idea. And anyway we’re supposed to hang out Thursday but what if he’s as neurotic as I am and he googles my photo and my dumb blog comes up or something equally as embarrassing? And also I’m supposed to be the one who makes the plans for Thursday because he is driving six hours to be here, and what if I make the wrong plans?
And on a soul crushing unrelated note I had a dream that John Goodman wouldn’t give me his autograph and that really set a bad tone for my day.
And on another unrelated note I’ve been thinking about getting a boob job because that’s not a weird thought process at all. How do you tell people at work you’re taking time off to get a boob job? I mean, obviously I could just lie about it, but I think someone would probably notice when I came back.

You’ll always be Peter Pan in my heart.

You’ll always be Peter Pan in my heart.

Home.  My life has been amazing lately. I keep saying that because I don’t really feel like this is my life. But it is. 

I’ve been gone for 5 weeks, I think? Meandering around the country, finding who I am and what I’m made of while doing a job I love. And learning exactly who and what I need in my amazing new life. And now I’m home. 

I’m home for three weeks and I haven’t told anyone. I’ve talked to a few people and danced around my time frame, but I feel like committing to words how long I’ll be here will ruin the magic that I’ve felt since somewhere between South Carolina and Arizona. I feel like being here and seeing some of these people will tarnish the sparkle I’ve found within myself. How do I have friends and dump all my friends at the same time? I just want to feel shiny and amazing the whole time I’m home. I don’t want to be stifled by neediness and the pathetic whine of insecurity. 

I’m happy to be home in my own bed for a few weeks, to wash my clothes in my own detergent, and shower in my own bathroom. I’m happy to drive my own car and sit on my own porch. I’m happy to shop at my own Target, haha. But mostly, I’m happy that my PGH bud is coming this weekend, even if it is only for a day and a half, and I’m happy that I can count the days to Georgia and my new adventures.

I’m home. And I’m happy. Those things don’t go together well, but dammit if I’m not going to try to make them go together!


10 Useful websites that you can use.

More facts on Ultrafacts!

(Source: ultrafacts, via sorryibrokeyourheart)

I’m tired and the time difference between here and home is killing me, but last night was amazing and I’m so happy that it happened. I never thought I would receive an apology about last summer; I wasn’t sure I deserved one, but I got one. And it felt sincere. And I feel lighter about it. I feel better. And I hope that whatever inspired that moment, that it continues to inspire moments, that it allows for other real moments. And maybe one day, actual friendship could come from some of this mess.