November's Child
The one who has stolen the cherries since a rainy day


"

You will always be too much of something for someone: too big, too loud, too soft, too edgy. If you round out your edges, you lose your edge.

Apologize for mistakes. Apologize for unintentionally hurting someone — profusely. But don’t apologize for being who you are.

"
- Danielle Laporte (via avvfvl)

(Source: chelsieautumn, via 5000letters)

1,005 notes - reblog - posted 1 month ago
"Imagine everything you ever wanted shows up one day and calls itself your life. And then just when you start to believe in it - gone. And suddenly it gets very hard to imagine a future. That’s depression, right?"
- Side Effects (2013) dir. Steven Soderbergh (via larmoyante)
"Tell your friends I’m crazy. I cry too fucking much. Spilled milk, and closed doors. Broken promises. Tell them about the times your words took my breath away and my knees buckled,
black trails of mascara streaming down my cheeks like war paint. Tell your friends I’m crazy. I need too fucking much. You offered me a piece of your heart, but I wanted the whole thing. Selfish. Asking to kiss you and trying to hold your hand. Tell them about the girl you loved before, the times you brought her memory into bed with us, the time I turned away when you murmured her name. Tell your friends I’m crazy. Tell them about the scars. Tell them that when I asked you to love me, you took your clothes off and thought it was the same thing. Tell them that for months after you left all I tasted was whiskey and tears, sometimes a cigarette or
another boy’s lips. Tell your friends I’m crazy. Tell them that I loved you. Tell them that I’ve learned."
- Susanna Leigh (via fleurlungs)

(via 5000letters)

87,470 notes - reblog - posted 1 month ago
"Much more likely you’ll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands."
- Jean-Paul Sarte, No Exit (via larmoyante)
"I don’t want to earn my living; I want to live."
- Oscar Wilde (via larmoyante)
"Sleep tries to seduce me by promising a more reasonable tomorrow."
- Elizabeth Smart, By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept (via larmoyante)
"Sometimes I touch the things you used to touch, looking for echoes of your fingers."
- Iain S. Thomas (via larmoyante)
"I keep thinking you already know. I keep thinking I’ve sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind."
- Iain S. Thomas (via larmoyante)
2,296 notes - reblog - posted 2 months ago
159 notes - reblog - posted 2 months ago
1,149 notes - reblog - posted 2 months ago
"

What if, in another universe, I deserve you?

Hear me out. There’s this philosopher from the 1890s named William James, and he coined this theory about “the multiverse” which suggests that a hypothetical set of multiple universes comprises everything that can possibly exist simultaneously.

Are you following? The entirety of space, time, matter and energy is all happening at once in different timelines: It’s the idea of parallel universes. Right? So okay, let’s presume the multiverse is real.

Well then, maybe somewhere in those infinite universes is one, or several, where I deserve you.

Maybe there’s a universe out there — happening now — where we end up together and when I close my eyes at night, I’m not dreaming the way a normal person would. Instead I’m seeing flashes of our lives in the multiverse. They’re not simple dreams because I miss you, right? They’re scientific, anachronistic visions.

For instance:

In this universe, I don’t want a family, but maybe in another, I’m more of the type to settle down. Maybe there’s a universe where you hold my hand while I give birth to our daughter in a white hospital room with pink flowers and fuzzy teddy bears on the window sill. Where we take family vacations and pose for dorky pictures in our neon bathing suits on the sands of a Florida beach. Where we curl up to watch a cheesy movie at the end of a long day in our big, green, suburban house once the kids have fallen asleep.

Maybe there’s a universe where we are middle-aged and taking our child to college and bickering over where to put her dresser or what posters she should hang up. Where you kiss her on the forehead ‘goodbye’ and we drive home in contented, proud silence, your fingers grazing my knuckles, our wedding rings glistening. Where we both have gray hair and we laugh and smile and hug and drink lemonade on the porch.

Maybe there’s a universe where that’s the life I want. Where I don’t second guess everything and I’m not afraid of commitment and of the future and of love. Maybe there’s a universe without all the noise in my head and the pride that makes me so fiercely independent and the coldness in my heart that I can turn on and off like a security fence.

Maybe there’s a universe where I’m the right person for you. Where I adore every nice thing you did for me without starting to resent you. A universe where you actually end up with someone who appreciates you. Where no one becomes a doormat. Where both of us can shed our baggage and curiosity and issues. A universe where we’re happy — without wondering if that happiness is some messed-up Jenga game ready to topple at the slightest quiver. A universe where we’re comfortable and sure, and we have cats.

Maybe there’s a universe where we fall asleep next to each other every night like spoons, like two innocent bunnies — my face buried in your neck, hugging your warmth — and we both don’t want anything or anybody else. Where we don’t want more, we just want each other.

Maybe there’s a universe where I don’t covet so much all the time and where I’m content and where I don’t wonder about picking up and moving to Japan without saying anything to anyone and where at this very juncture, I can just know I’ll always want to come home and cook dinner with you.

If you think of it all this way, then it’s like neither of us did anything wrong.

You just found me in the wrong universe. That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.

So see, that explains everything. We’re not together anymore because of the multiverse.

Well, isn’t that comforting?

If you’re sad, do like I do and just think of the other ‘verses. The ones where I believe in love and where I don’t hate myself and where I never feel the need to kamikaze relationships. A universe where we can have nice things. It’s helpful, right?

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you.

"
- Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You, by Gaby Dunn (via tywin)

(via absentions)

161,819 notes - reblog - posted 2 months ago