okay whoever sent my those pictures ou are seriously so fucked up 

yesterday was the best day
i’ve never loved anyone more. 

wow i almost thought that i would miss my nightly breakdown today but nahh

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i care too much about the smallest things and then when i admit to others that i care i just hate myself that much more. i feel like an idiot. what gives me the right to expect anybody would stick around?

"

So tell me. How far can I walk on my own at night? How many metres, exactly, can I walk unaccompanied without having to fear for my life?

How many drinks am I, an adult woman, allowed to have after work on Friday night before being dismissed as a “party girl” or “asking for it”? How high can my heels be, and how short a skirt can I wear, before being implicated in any crime against me? And, just so that I’m clear, how many metres can I walk to get myself home?

And if something happened to me, how harshly would I be judged? If I vanished on that walk to my front door, what would you have to say about me? Would I be tut-tutted at for not accepting the offer of an escort home? Would idiots take to Facebook to admonish me for supposedly leading some guy on?

Would do-gooders and commentators and Twitterati-types take my parents to task for not raising me to act sensibly? Would they lambast my friends and lovers for not taking adequate care of me? Would everyone in my life suffer because I exceeded my allocated metres of solo walking?

Would every media outlet in the country view my disappearance as an opportunity to point out that, as it happens, women have more to fear in our world than men?

Would you, quietly, at the back of your mind, think that if I’d just stayed home with my partner, like a good wife and woman, none of this would have happened to me?

Are you just looking for one big, smug fucking excuse to say that you told me so?

And just so that we’re absolutely fucking clear, how many metres am I allowed to walk on my own at night?

"

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whatacryd0nnie:

“remember that time in 7th grade when you-“

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twelveoddmonths:

261/366

twelveoddmonths:

261/366

i miss the smallest things the most
the little inconsequential actions-
the way that holding your hand was like casting out an anchor to keep me from getting lost

the way you emanated heat 
your smile that was always a bit higher on one side
your laugh when i tickled you
the laugh that was just as loud when i only pretended to

Tags: thoughts

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havingajonfire:

it’s ok captcha we can get through this
together

havingajonfire:

it’s ok captcha we can get through this

together

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