“No”

might make them angry.

But

it will make you free.

If no one has ever told you,

your freedom is more important that their anger.

Love is the taste of honey, dancing to music, driving with the windows down, laughing until you cry, crying until you laugh, the realization that you don’t know anything, the realization that you want to. Love is effort, love is painful, love is art, love is perfect, love is everything.

An account I found on Instagram

Remember when we had our own desks?

With our name tags and multiplication charts?

Remember when we were tested on our spelling?

And we had to learn long division?

I miss those days.

I miss writing in my Nabisco journal.

I miss playing at recess.

I miss not having to worry about things and not feeling like I’m wasting my time.

How come everything becomes boring when you grow older?

“Love hinders death. Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. Everything is United by it alone. Love is god, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.”

I’ve always thought that rain

was the most beautiful thing nature had to offer

I find comfort in crying

while it’s raining because it feels as if nature is

crying with me

it feels nice to know someone else

felt my pain.

Birthdays.

I’ve always hated celebrating my birthday

Awkward singing while everyone stares and you just have to sit there

Blowing out candles that contaminate the cake with my spit and germs

Mixing certain friends and family together

Opening presents not knowing how you’ll react and wondering if it looked like everyone could tell you didn’t like the ugly shirt grandma bought you.

Too much attention.

Its never a good day and never goes planned how I would actually want it.

Family and friends trying to go over the top for something that you don’t even want.

I ’m always sad and cry on my birthday

Too many tears when my supposed number counts up

I think that birthdays show how much a person actually knows you

Or how much they actually don’t.

You kissed me and ran off my porch.

You held my face in your hands and told me things I’ll never forget.

…

You kissed me over the console in your car,

I hugged you tightly and did not let go

squeezing you until you couldn’t breathe.

…

You kissed me on my forehead

Your voice cracked and choked.

You wiped away my tears

I looked at the sadness on your face holding your head up in my hands

Saying I could never hate you.

…

You walked me to the porch

Holding my hand as my eyes blurred

You hugged me tightly for a while

We let go of each other and I walked inside.