But then I realized I was holding onto something that didn’t exist anymore. That the person I missed didn’t exist anymore. People change. The things we like and dislike change. And we could wish all day long that they didn’t, but they always will.
You’re allowed to want to kill yourself,
but you’re not allowed to do it.
You’re allowed to fight with your mother,
but you’re not allowed to to leave her crying on your bedroom floor.
You’re allowed to miss your ex boyfriend,
but you’re not allowed to say the scars all over your arms are his fault.
You’re allowed hate the girl who almost got you suspended,
but you’re not allowed to tell her that the world would be better off without her.
You’re allowed to stand on the edge of that bridge,
but you’re not allowed to jump.
You’re allowed to be mad at the world,
but you’re not allowed to blame it for the state you’ve put yourself in.
You’re allowed to be sad,
but you’re not allowed to give up.
Music is for people who can’t handle their own thoughts

aureat:

I just want someone who will kiss me when I’m mad and lets me cry in front of them and buys me pizza and watches scary movies with me and holds my hand real tight even if it’s sweaty and thinks I’m beautiful no matter what I look like and lets me steal their sweaters so I can sleep with their smell on my skin and who laughs at the same things I do and just never lets me go, no matter how hard I try to push them away.

(via ca-dela)

Maybe I am just in love with the idea that someone might care about me more than I care about myself.
©