I’m tired of people comparing love

to constellations and coffee and

the seasons and the ocean.

Tell the truth.

Write about the dirty, sloppy,

vapid, ephemeral dirt

that love can be.

Write about the screaming at 4 am

and the crying yourself to sleep

because love isn’t all gain.

You need to offer a piece of yourself

to the demons in order to love another.

(via justimprobable)

It really fucking hurts loving someone who doesn’t give a damn about whether or not you are doing okay, doesn’t it? I just wish someone would have told me to let go of careless people. Because now all I am doing is making myself look like an idiot by loving someone who never even loved me.

Small conversations, #5 (via mostlyfiction)

(via cavum)