❝I lost you faster than I lost my mind.❞
did you ever feel the same? (via hateful-lilac)
❝It wasn’t the same
It wasn’t the same with him
I couldn’t find the galaxies in his eyes
Like I could distinctly see in yours
I could pick out each individual star
But with him, all there was
Was an empty night sky
His touch was cold, whereas yours was like the sun
Burning through my skin and creating a warmth
That I wouldn’t care if it consumed me in flames
His voice was like nails on a chalkboard
The conversations were empty and meaningless
Ours could fill up whole universes
Our words could create poetry and verses from love songs
He and I couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, darling
It felt empty and forced
Stale and crumbly
You were so full of everything
We had the whole world between us
Galaxies and universes
It was not the same with him
I could not see myself being in his arms
I could not lay in the the grass and stare at the night sky
I could not talk about the cosmos with him
I felt nothing when it came to him
But with you
I felt everything
I felt everything so intensely that my bones rattled with it
You caused earthquakes and tsunamis
You caused mass destruction inside of me
Each time I had to rebuild myself
Your words and the hope for another disaster
Kept me going on
I relished the feeling of pieces of my heart
Crumbling in my hands, running through my fingers
You were a beautiful disaster
And I didn’t mind the aftermath, darling
I could write forever about you
I could fill forever with your name and the description
Of how our skin felt pressed against each other
I couldn’t write a single word about him❞
I couldn’t write about him, and that is the difference (via for-the-love-of-all-things)
❝I turned myself into a stranger to everybody I knew. I wanted my solitude so much that I inundated myself with it.❞
(via sarahhswritings)

greetings:

telling someone they can’t be sad because others have it worse is like telling someone they can’t be happy because others have it better

❝One: Buy condoms. Buy them and keep them with you at all times, and use them before you are asked to use them. And use them every time. The peace of mind you allow your partner will free her to be vulnerable with you, and that, my son, is exactly what sex is about. Condoms are sexy. In fact, call buying condoms foreplay.
(Footnote: If you are too embarrassed to buy condoms, you are not ready to have sex.)

Two: Kissing is not merely foreplay. Spend entire evenings making out on the couch while fully clothed. Believe me, dry-humping rocks.

Three: Sex is not just about friction. It’s about emotion. Stop trying to find her clitoris and find her heart. Because then she’ll help you find her clitoris.

Four: If you really wanna know how to please a woman, ask her how she masturbates. Then do that. A lot. If she claims she doesn’t masturbate, offer to take her shopping for a vibrator so you can both learn the vocabulary of her body together.

Five: Don’t put anything in her butthole you wouldn’t want in your own.
(Footnote: Try a pinky finger, it’s kinda awesome.)

Six: When you go down on her—and you will go down on her, and if you are my son, you will be amazing at it—tell her how good she tastes. Stop in the middle and kiss her deeply so she knows how good she tastes. Do the same when she goes down on you.

Seven: A simple Google search will yield 1,327 euphemisms for male masturbation, yet only 23 for female masturbation. If guys spent less time jacking off and more time jilling off, this world would be a happier place.

Eight: Everything you need to know about the importance of the clitoris is in the movie Star Wars. You are Luke Skywalker piloting your penis-shaped X-Wing Fighter deep inside her trench. Remember: seventy percent of all Death Stars cannot be blown up through penetration of the trench alone. It must be through focused contact with that little exhaust port at the top of the trench. Otherwise, any explosions you experience will be merely Hollywood special effects.

Nine: Just because you come doesn’t mean she has, so don’t you dare come before her. Focus completely on your partner. Don’t worry about gettin’ yours, you’re a guy. You always get yours. Your job is to make sure she’s gettin’ hers.

Ten: If sex with your partner lasts no longer than this poem, you are not making love. You are masturbating with her body instead of your hand. Shame on you. Go back to step one. You’ve got a lot of learning to do.
Love, Dad.❞

Big Poppa E., “How To Make Love”  (via jesusfuckmechrist)

I am reblogging this specifically for the hilarity that is step 8. 

(via kathorsuxx)

YES omg just yes

(via in-freedom-we-find-sin)

Well…….

(via knitmeapony)

This is the best!!!

(via creepitreal666)

Anonymous asked:
How do you stop missing him. I miss the love of my life every day

goldrinah:

i stay busy, im always hanging out with people, like literally everyday. im sure one day i’ll miss him but for now i just remember the last words he said to me, and how he didn’t really love me enough to grow with me.

Anonymous asked:
Your beauty goes unnoticed, you should be cherished like art and literature, not like a celebrity, more like nature, cause nature never loses it's beauty.

I miss you 😔

❝I’m tired of getting fucked in ways that don’t end in an orgasm.❞
(via electric-daisy-forest)