constantly torn between “if it’s meant to be, it will be” and “if you want it, go get it”
I’m sorry that I cut my wrists, not roses. I’m sorry that I won’t be able to eat popcorn with you at the movie theatre. I’m sorry that some times I will swallow too many pills after I see those old photos of my childhood. I’m sorry that I cause you so much trouble. Please be patient with me. I’m so lost right now, but someday I’m going to be back home in your arms and everything will be ok again.
I love you doesn’t mean a fucking thing if you spit it down the throat of every girl who makes you feel less dead
i need kisses and attention and alcohol