Tell me something sweet to get me by

Welcome to my life. My ask box is always open so feel free to ask me things, plus it will make my day :) I believe that music is important no matter what genre it is, as long as you like it and it makes you feel something. Most of the time I'm on here I'm supposed to be doing things...oops
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  • It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

    It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

    It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

    It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

    It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

    —    It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

    (via hopewillkeepusalive)

    kiss-my-aspergers:

    foxstitches:

    serasquatch:

    berserkasfuckk:

    Matilda

    I was rewatching this movie the other day and got up to the point where she and Miss Honey meet for the first time in the classroom, and she mentions that her favorite author is Charles Dickens.

    And, like, I always thought they namedropped him in order to make her sound intellectual, but it occurred to me really suddenly and violently that the reason she loves Dickens is because he writes about children who live in abusive systems and who’ve been orphaned or abandoned and she finds comfort and solidarity in it. Miss Honey’s reacts the way she does because Dickens is special to her, likely for the same exact reason. WOW DUH.

    ONLY GETTING THIS LIKE 15 YEARS LATER. ALL ABOARD THE SLOW MOBILE.

    omG

    If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure 70% of the people reblogging this also didn’t realise this until you said it. Myself included.

    (via kids-dreams-die)

    brigwife:

    Hufflepuffs are boring”

    *waves NymphadoraTonks in your general direction*

    Hufflepuffs are stupid pushovers”

    *drops Cedric Diggory’s dead body on top of you*

    Hufflepuffs are shy”

    *slaps you in the face with Ernie MacMillan*

    Hufflepuffs are polite”

    *fires Zacharias Smith at you out of a canon*

    (via whyhavemenwhenthereisfood)

    “ We fought, holy shit we fought but damn, we loved. We loved more than anything; I think that makes all the fighting okay; we fought because we cared. Our arguments were filled with passion and this strange fucked-up way of saying ‘I love you.’ ”

    —    (via jennifertrvn)

    (Source: phyerfly, via ahopefullkindofsad)

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