I want to forget everything you told me. I want to wash away how uncertain you made me. How scared I was of losing you. How I lost you anyway. I don’t want to know how your hands feel or what makes you smile. I don’t want to see you in photos, familiar like a dream I had once or a book I never finished. I don’t want to speak about you in snippets or think about how I behaved. Or know that I still think about it. Or know that you’re not just a lamp or a blade of grass, indistinguishable from the rest. (via babypsykt)
I’m not sure if I’m depressed. I mean, I’m not exactly sad. But I’m not exactly happy either. I can laugh and joke and smile during the day, But sometimes when I’m alone at night I forget how to feel.
John Green (via chaosandmess)
if you still talk about it - you still care about it anonymous (via creatingaquietmind)
Everyone else isn’t you. It turns out that’s a huge problem for me. -Things I Do When I Cannot Hold You, Clementine von Radics (via creatingaquietmind)