Then there’s only the sickness I feel from looking at legs I can’t touch, or at lips that don’t smile at me. Or hips that don’t reach for me. And hearts that don’t beat for me.
Markus Zusak (via drowningininformation)
George R.R. Martin (via kayteelouise)
I love you— I do— but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you’re always going to leave me. We can’t deny it. You’re always going to leave.
David Levithan, Every Day (via creatingaquietmind)
Kyo (via modernhepburn)