I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that I still want you, or the fact that you still want me, too.
Suddenly she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past but the lost future, not what had not been but what would never be."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, A Nice Quiet Place (via hollowstimulation)
Miles Walser, “A Sonnet of Invented Memories” (via distincts)
If it was anybody else, I would have given up long ago.
Unknown (via fearlessknightsandfairytales)
Omfg this(via beautifulandromantic)
You’ve been making me wait.
I won’t spend these winter nights holding onto “would.”
It’s a lot of too late, the summer’s over, over, over.