“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.”—Sarah Ockler (via rhymez)
“If a guy wants to be with a girl, he will make it happen, no matter what. So trust me when I say if a guy is treating you like he doesn’t give a shit, he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. No exceptions.”—He’s Just Not That Into You (via allforthemems)
“An entire sea of water can’t sink a ship unless it gets inside the ship. Similarly, the negativity of the world can’t put you down unless you allow it to get inside you.”—Goi Nasu (via fearlessknightsandfairytales)
Yes but enough men that every girl is terrified of smiling to that guy on the bus or talking with the boy in the coffee shop. Every girl has been walking late at night at one point and been afraid of who might be following her. Every girl has referred to someone as a “creep” and every girl has refused a drink from someone she doesn’t know.
Not all men.
But enough men that all women are now afraid of most men. It’s gotten so bad that we have to be afraid of even telling you we are afraid. We can’t ask that you please stop talking to us. Because if we do we run the risk of being labeled a “stuck up bitch” and blamed for murders and rapes in which we are the victims.
So we speak to you with body language that we hope you’ll understand. We cross our legs and look out the window and wear giant headphones that are giant signs that subtly read “DON’T TALK TO ME!” But you insist on ignoring those signs because you have it in your head that our body language doesn’t mean anything. That our bodies aren’t our bodies.
Not all men.
You can start fucking saying that when all women can stop being afraid. But that’s not gonna happen if every man a women opens up to about this issue dismisses her by saying “Not all men.”
an unofficial letter to the skeezball at work all men.
“I was sixteen,
laying on my bedroom floor,
choking on your goodbye
and cigarette smoke with the
98 degree weather burning
tears into my cheeks,
screaming for my mother
because I figured this was it,
I was going to die without
because if I couldn’t wake up
and see you sleepily mumbling
my name into my hair I didn’t
want to wake up at all.
I was seventeen,
tired lungs and
but I wasn’t drowning
like last summer”—I thought I couldn’t live without you but you were nothing more than a good morning text and someone to pass out next to (via extrasad)