I had a male doctor today and he was inspecting my boobs to see if there was anything irregular
and I said, “Ohh! second base!”
I dont think my mom will ever take me back to that clinic.
Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt.
Do you know why she’s smiling?
Because of him. He’s holding her tight even in he’s sleep. It doesn’t mean that he’s possessive on her or something, it’s an indication that even in his sleep, it’s her that’s running on his mind. He just wants her to be always on his side. He just wants her to be always close to her. He just wants her to be the reason for his good sleep and for the joy he’ll feel when he wakes up.
She loves it when he makes her feel those things. She loves it when he’ got a little overprotective on her. She loves it when he makes her feel like he doesn’t want to let him go. She loves it when he’s clothing her with his love and care. She loves being wrapped up inside his love and affection. She loves being the center of his attention.
She’s smiling because she couldn’t ask for more. She’s smiling because she’s at her happiest. She’s smiling because she’s confident that he’s that perfect guy for her. She’s smiling because she’s with him. And being with that someone you love is enough reason for you to smile.
Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.
Writers are forgetful
the important things.
Oh, my heart is melting.
the other day we were discussing dating and this one dude was like “I don’t see the big deal why can’t people just ask people out without all the fuss” and another guy was like “well you get nervous and you get butterflies in your stomach ya know” and the first dude looked the other dude straight in the eye and said “DIGEST THEM.”
my ideal body weight is you on top of me.
why do guys call girls “cunts” anyway though
why would you insult someone by referring to them as the only thing about them that actually matters to you
when I get mad at my boyfriend I don’t call him “salary”
Don’t tell me that you love me, because anyone can tell me that. Tell me that I make you tear up with anger and frustration, but at the end of the day you still want to lay down next to me, put your arms around me, and sleep.
One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you.
SO I ACTUALLY DID THIS A FEW MONTHS AGO AND I DIDNT EVEN THINK THEY LOOKED AT THIS SORT OF THING SO BY THE TIME THE DELIVERY MAN CAME I HAD FORGOTTEN THAT I WROTE THAT AND THE GUY WAS REALLY CUTE. WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR HE WAS SUPER FLUSTERED AND DROPPED HIS PEN, THE BAG HOLDING THE PIZZA AND THE RECEIPTS. THEN after i signed the receipt and he was getting ready to leAVEEEE HE GOES “So… umm… did you actually put that?” and i was like “put what?” and he goes “… to.. um… tell you.. um that you’re pretty” omg it hit me that this was why he was all nervous and i started cracking up omfg then he told me that i was pretty.
i did this once but when the guy came to the door I sent my friend Martin to get the pizza and I heard muffled laughter and then Martin came back into the room with the pizza and whispered “he told me I was pretty”
Kissing is like drinking salted water. You drink, and your thirst increases.
johanna mason literally said “fuck you” to president snow but he’s like “oh shit katniss done made herself a bird”
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