Sometimes when I say “I’m okay”, what I really want is for someone to hold my hand, look me in the eyes and say “I know that you’re not okay, here is $1000.00”.
In a relationship, you need somebody who’s going to call you out, not somebody who’s going to let everything slide. You need somebody who doesn’t want to live without you, but can. Not somebody that is dependent, but somebody who is stronger with you. A relationship is two people, not one.
I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.
Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.
But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.
And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.
We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.
We never know when the bus is coming.
I hear my mom shrieking downstairs, shouting up to me about “THE CATS! THE CATS!”
I run downstairs, thinking someone has died or something and see THIS:
I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO PUNCH SOMETHING TO GET OVER THE ADORABLENESS
They look like they’re about to break out in a musical number
This post got better since I re-blogged it earlier.