You don’t get it. I barely understood it. I crave the kind of partner that will tell me when I’m wrong. Someone who will take the time to say to me ‘This is going to be a sucky conversation because it’s going to be uncomfortable but if I don’t tell you, I can’t be certain anyone will and I want you to grow continuously into a superb human being.’ Do you get it? Don’t you want someone who wants you to keep growing?
Mya Wright (via dirtyberd)

the first mistake he made was falling for a sad girl.
the first day when she asked him, “are you flirting with me?” he responded with a simple “maybe.”
and he fell in love with her shy smile and down turned eyes as she replied, “well i would flirt back, but i don’t know how.”
he fell in love with a sad girl;
one who filled journals with scribbles and thoughts of love, and war, as well as the scars she carried both inside and out.
one who hummed lullabies and sang songs that he had never heard before;
he fell in love with her soft laugh, it didn’t matter to him that it was as rare as a snowflake in July.
he fell in love with the way she lay in the grass,
the way she let the sun fall on her face; eyes closed, heart open.
falling for her was his first mistake.

the second mistake he made was thinking that he could save her.
he tried so hard to be everything she needed, but he didn’t understand the depths behind the warning she gave that first day,
“i’m terrible with people, i’m afraid, you see i tend to push them away.”
he would soon figure out that it would take more than a text from him to get her out of bed every morning.
he soon found that it did not matter how many flowers and chocolates he sent,
how many 2am calls he answered,
how many nights he held her as she cried,
how many times he told her that he loved her (and oh how he loved her);
it would never be enough to take her pain away.
he soon found that he could never be her savior, that he could never heal her scars or stop her mind from going insane.

the third mistake he made was staying.
he never left;
he saw the rusty blades and the way people stared at the long sleeves she wore in the middle of summer.
he endured the hospital visits after her mother would call him, frantic about a bottle of pills.
he stayed.
through hundreds of missed calls and ignored texts; he wouldn’t let her push him away.
“you don’t understand,” she said, “i’m not like them. i’m broken; you’ll find something you don’t like and you’ll leave. i don’t want to be a mistake you regret. please stay away from me.”
but he didn’t leave. instead he told her everyday,
“you’re not broken, and it’s good you’re not like them because i don’t want them anyway; i want you. all of you; your good, your bad, the best and the worst; through it all i promise i’ll always stay.”

and he did.

and in the end it was not him who saved her.
it was not him who filled the empty spaces of her soul and put together the pieces of her broken heart.
she overcame those monsters herself; for it turned out she was stronger than she thought.
he didn’t save her. all he did was wait.
he waited by her side until she was whole,
until she was full of love to return to him;
for all the years he spent loving her when she had no love to give.

they called everything he did for her a mistake.
but in the end, they are the best mistakes he could have made,
because he is there to see her happy.

every night he is there to hear her say,
“thank you for saving me, i wouldn’t have made it if another person had given up on me. i know i was broken, i know they said i was a mistake.”

and every night she cries tears of thanks as he corrects her gently, saying, “you were never broken, you were never a mistake. and love, i didn’t save you; all i did was believe that you would make it, day by day. all i did was stay.”

the best mistakes  (via misplacedpens)


men: rape jokes hahaha! beating women haha! lol make me a sandwich whore! put on makeup fugly! hahaha!

women: those aren’t funny.

men: lighten up, it’s a joke wow must be on her period women are so emotional lol

women: i drink the tears of men, haha!






once i was sick so i got a prescription for codeine cough syrup and when i went to pick it up the pharmacist was like “you really won’t need all of this” and i was like “it’s ok i could just sell it at school” and he was like “YEAAAAAAAH FUTURE PHARMACIST” and fist bumped me

ok apparently this pharmacist is my brother’s old pot dealer

his name is scooter

I never meant to leave a note in the shape of my bodies imprint against your mattress that screams loving someone doesn’t mean touching them and touching someone doesn’t mean knowing them. I am not 100% recycled i don’t plan on being used again. Im not the canvas for your suburban afternoon finger painting class, so don’t you lay a fucking hand on me.