wears heart on sleeve

#lovebot

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She asked, ‘you are in love, what does love look like?’ To which I replied, ‘like everything I’ve ever lost came back to me.’
Nayyirah Waheed  (via align)

(via align)

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People always say that when you love someone, nothing in the world matters. But that’s not true, is it? You know, and I know, that when you love someone, everything in the world matters a little bit more.
“Handle with Care” by Jodi Picoult (via kari-shma)

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To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.
C.S. Lewis (via kari-shma)

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almost exactly 4 years ago, I wrote this:

i am not

beautiful, modelesque, feminine, glamorous, curvaceous, a natural beauty, graceful, a smooth-talker, a social butterfly, the type of girl that turns heads when she walks into a room.

i am comfortable, scrubby, laidback, tattooed, a beer drinker, clumsy, a comic book nerd, sometimes awkward, a little bit shy, the kind of girl that blends in as one of the boys.

i would rather wear my velcro vans than a pair of red stilletos. i don’t look good in lingerie, but i love to wear your oversized sweatshirts. i would rather go to a dive bar than a club. if you offer me a wine spritzer or whiskey on the rocks, i’ll choose the whiskey. i don’t giggle, i laugh.

i’ve been told i’m not feminine enough by the guys i’ve dated. but i’m looking for someone who will appreciate me for who i am. i can take care of myself, but i still want to be loved.

I’m happy to announce that I have not changed an ounce, but I have found a wonderful someone who does appreciate me for who I am. And moreso, he loves me for who I am.

Maybe one day I will write out our story in simple words and cartoon robots. And maybe one day you will be able to find our story with a coffee ring on its dust cover sitting on a shelf in your (or my) favorite used bookstore.