Dear You

Apr 21

I think I feel better, though.

I think I feel better, though.

(Source: okboykid, via sassyirony)

I’m too sentimental.

I kept everything you gave me.

The little bell you found on the sidewalk, the note you wrote me, the picture you drew…the stuffed Pterodactyl you won for me at the fair.

I always cringe when I read about people burning or throwing away everything that reminds them of their ex.

After all, how could I do that to your memory?

Apr 19

(Source: observando, via you-aremysunshine)

Apr 05

“He’ll grab your waist and whisper in your ear but six months later you’ll find yourself drunk texting him that you miss him and he won’t respond.” — Unknown (via c-oquetry)

(Source: sureth-ng, via strengthtoletgo)

Apr 04

I try to avoid the pictures you post online

because every time I see your face

I can’t help but miss you even more than before

Feb 27


I’m in love with this quote!


I’m in love with this quote!

(via creamypufflovesfunnelycake-deac)

Feb 24

(via k-indhearted)


Feb 15

(Source: definited, via expressyourbeautyy)

Feb 08

Deleting your photos was probably one of the hardest things I had to do in my life. The first step to moving on is to disable you from showing up on my Facebook newsfeed so I will not be reminded that you’re doing fine without me. You’re happy while I’m taking my time pretending you don’t exist,
pretending you don’t exist,
pretending you don’t exist.

I’m relearning how to love coffee because
the smell of jasmine tea reminds me too much of you, and
I’m trying to avoid the sun, the ocean, the beach,
the streets we used to pass, and the friends we share in common, and basically people with the same country, language, and religion as you.
I will banish myself into a state of self-isolation in an effort to
forget, forget, forget -

Forget the photos taken together, the loving messages sent at 4AM, forget the dinner dates, and inside jokes, the green house, and tickle fights, the jungle party, the waking up together in the morning, or the weird way you sleep with your hands on your chest, and the way you hated the fact I snored. Forget how you feel inside me, the rock pools, the bike rides, or the roughness of your beard against my chin. Or how about the letters I wrote you everyday, or the late night conversations about the baggage in our heads?

Finally, forget I was your first love,
and ignore that “First love never dies!” bullshit,
but let’s not forget to change our relationship status online.
Then ignore me, and treat me like a stranger;
make me feel confused, lost, and unwanted.
Don’t reply to my messages until you convince me you never loved me at all.

I’ll jump into the sea and drown myself in whiskey,
then by the time I reach my 8th tequila shot,
I’ll make crappy poems to send you until I’d have nothing else left to say.

And the next time I reach for my pen,
it won’t be to write about you again.
The sun will feel warm on my skin once more,
and I will get drunk on the colors of the sky
instead of tasting hangovers dripping from strangers’ lips.

I will not be a sob story.

I’ll make sure you’ll remember why you fell in love with me.

” — Sade Andria Zabala (surfandwrite) | The Process of Moving On (via surfandwrite)

(Source: surfandwrite, via lilwitchbitch-deactivated201402)