Lonely Beds Different Cities

I am in love with a rose, but I am nothing but a dandelion.
I hope
you never
regret me.
- 5:00 p.m. (Please don’t ever think of me as a mistake)

(via wondurs)

July 22, 2014

I really hate how things are going on.
I keep praying, wishing, hoping everything would go back the way it was, but nothing is changing. 
I feel, well I actually don’t know how I feel. I guess lost is the word that mostly can describe it.
I happen to wonder why it’s not working. Maybe because I’m not interesting enough. I’m not good enough, not funny, not handsome. Must be something.
Sometimes I wonder if you and this guy have all the closeness we used to have. Yet I’m terrified to know.
Maybe I should just disappear. Few will miss me, but eventually get over it. I will be finally free from suffering.
Once I said you are like a drug to me, and I got addicted and can’t live without you. But this is so incorrect. Because drug addicts can eventually recover. I can’t.
You’re more like my medicine. Without you, I am in pain.
Your love is my only cure.
To com saudade, muita saudade de você.

Yeah, maybe I’m just a little clingy piece of shit. But I love you more than anyone ever could.
- Unknown (via sste-phannny)

(via toxic-w0nder)

I didn’t realize it, but the days came along one after another, and then two years were gone, and everything was gone, and I was gone.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald (via insanity-and-vanity)

(via wondurs)