#MidnightThoughts #DaddyRC 😪
plot twist: i actually died many years ago this is just a queue
don’t date anyone who doesn’t ask you about your childhood and why you are the way that you are
don’t date anyone who won’t work to understand and accept those things
have you ever just looked at someone and thought, my fucking god i adore you. i adore every goddamn ounce. i adore your bones and your soul. but I’m a loser, who just doesn’t wanna lose you. i can lose fucking everything, but not you. oh god. not you.
do you ever get that horrible feeling in your stomach because you can’t imagine anyone ever falling in love with you and wanting to spend the rest of their life with you
I think cheek kisses are really cute. I don’t know why. There’s something really sweet and innocent about a kiss on the cheek. Sometimes they’re nicer than lip kisses. I like cheek kisses. Cheek kisses are cute.
I’m sorry because you fell in love with a girl with ‘I’m sorry’ written all over her. From the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. She has apologies scribbled on her wrist to her collarbones where she mumbles about the nights you have to stay awake, thinking that she’s pushing you away. When in truth, she is not. She’s trying to protect you from the monstrosity that she is.
I’m sorry because there will be days that you can’t make her eat anything. She would shrink into a wilted flower and feel herself tremble with the littlest touch from the wind and in a blink of an eye, she’ll crumble into ashes that speak of her tears on bad nights. And on good days, she’ll say thank you every time you tell her how beautiful she is and that her body is a trinket filled with scars that show how strong she is. But on bad days, she’ll continue to shy away from you. She’ll wrap herself in a cloth of insecurity until her hungered frame can no longer be seen.
I’m sorry because her words are her masks. Everyday, every fucking day, you will find her hidden behind endless phrases and limitless sentences. Her poems will speak to you of how the sunrise has given her a whiff of hope or how the cup of cold coffee on the dining table woke her up with a renewed sense of being. The little snippets of her writings will tell you that she is happy, that she is okay, but when you look into her eyes, you’ll see the unshed tears.
I’m sorry that you fell in love with me.
And I’m sorry because that’s all I can whisper while you encase me in your arms at 4 in the morning, telling me that you love me.
I’m sorry but goddamn it, I love you too."
So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.
Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return."
Maybe we are not …