What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant. Instant rice takes five minutes, instant pudding an hour. I doubt that an instant of blinding pain feels particularly instantaneous.
“
| — | John Green, Looking for Alaska (via vanished) |
Sometimes all I want is for you to be around me, and sometimes I just want to alone.
I know that I’m fickle, and I know it’s hard to keep up with my changing tides of mind. Being with me is hard, and I’m about as predictable as a tornado, and 3 times as destructive. I just hope the skies clear up before I swallow you whole.
Can we cuddle?
In just our underwear, so our skin can touch. Can I hold you while you wrap yourself around me? I’ll play with your hair and drag my fingertips across your skin. You’ll peck at my neck while I laugh and tell you to stop. We could whisper cute things to each other over pillows that no one else could hear. We’d just stare in each others eyes until a smile cracked the silence of our lips.
