“It’s two bare feet on the dashboard, young love in an old Ford, cheap shades and a tattoo and a Yoohoo bottle on the floorboard, perfect song on the radio, sing along cause it’s one we know, it’s a smile, it’s a kiss, it’s a sip of wine, this is summertime, sweet summertime.” — Kenny Chesney (via katybethlove)
(via -deannasays)
Theres so much I could say here. But strangely, I don’t even know where to begin. You have ruined this for me. You have ruined my poor children because they will never be able to read Dr. Suess, because mommy won’t be able to get through it without crying or yelling or throwing the book across the room. Because I’ll be seeing your face, unnecessarily close to mine, looking at me, stupid voice reading those stupid rhymes.
(via -deannasays)
(via dreamandwake)
this was literally my face during the entire lexie’s death scene except 500000 times worse
so you let it out, and you don’t ever even find out of it destroyed them or made them happy or scared or concerned (hah. how ironic. “I was never, ever concerned about you, you hear me? Don’t ever apologize to me for that.”) Shit. Maybe you were telling me something then laced with that sweet comment.
(Source: thefatboylarry, via anditslove)
yes, you will do as well.
i…might…be okay with Matt Bomer too.
but Christian Bale is still my #1.
plateau on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/24507557
yeah. he could be christian grey if he wanted. definatly.
(via alcarajotodo)
One minute you’re ignoring me, abandoning me, ditching me, physically not giving a shit about my feelings.
Then you say you want to be alone today. You don’t want to see me. Or talk to me. Or answer when I tell you I love you.
The next day you’re all apologies. You’re so sorry. You’re crazy about me. You’re sorry you don’t show me enough. You shouldn’t have left that night, you should have stayed with me. You want me forever, and you say that even though you stopped making promises. You say if I left, you’d chase after me. Always. You say that you’re going to make me see that.
How am I supposed to know what to believe anymore? I mean, honestly. You are only happy when you get your way. It’s about you. And you say it will be about me too but how can I know for sure. I love you so much. I want to believe the things you say as you stroke my hair and tuck it behind my ear.
So I’ll try. But I don’t know how many more times I can lay here and cry over you.
