I'm wonderstruck
"I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind...."
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A “You Know What” | Lora Mathis 
A middle finger to slut shaming.  (via lora-mathis)

(via youwish--jellyfish)

A girl in my Sociology class turns around during a class activity on goals to start a conversation with me. Her opening line is: ‘I want to get married.’ I nod and smile. She does not ask me my goals, just continues telling me the sort of guy she’d like to be with and how many kids she’d like. Thoughtfully, she adds, ‘My mom told me to meet someone and marry them. You don’t wanna date around because you wanna be fresh for the guy and not a….you know what.’

My cousin’s Facebook ‘About Me’ lists things she would like in a man. There is nothing about her or the things she does, only qualities she finds attractive. ‘Looking for someone who can play the guitar and cook a great dinner,’ she wrote. I can hear her bubbly, singsong voice while reading it. She is thirteen years old and has told me that girls ‘oughta only kiss their husbands and that’s it.’ When I ask her what she wants to be when she’s older she says, ‘Married.’

My male friend tells me that he has no problem with what girls do, but that he would not date a girl who’s ‘been around’ because she’d be ‘dirty.’ I wonder if each time someone touches you, a part of you is soiled. If there are piles of dirt in the spaces where others’ fingers once rested. In the shower, I try to scrub the smell of dirt from myself, but come out, still polluted, with red scratch marks all over me.

Being called a ‘you know what’ taught me some things: that I do not want to be touched by somebody who will judge my past. That I am not a tally book, with others’ names burned into me. If you have to label me as something, let it be a human being.

someone:what are your plans for the weekend
me:who knows
me:(i know)
me:(i'm not leaving the house)

She was always holding my hand  (via fabulousbitch69)

(Source: everythingyoulovetoohate, via youwish--jellyfish)

And I understand. I understand why people hold hands: I’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying ‘This is mine’. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.

And I am still haunted by you.  (via dollpoetry)

(via youwish--jellyfish)

It’s funny, how when you are in a relationship with someone, your mind absently notices them in everything and everywhere. Their eye color in your morning coffee, a shirt that you think they would like, their name on a building, billboard, or a company with their name, when you are somewhere and see their favorite breed of a dog or cat, their favorite color, their birthday, their favorite food, a song they love, someone with their same name, anything. And when you lose this certain person, you finally notice how much they consumed your thoughts, and it haunts you. It haunts you when you first wake up, when you are out somewhere, when you are taking a shower, when you are walking, when you are driving, even in your dreams and nightmares, you still notice this person, and see them in everything and everywhere. It haunts you, it haunts you, it haunts you.

(via walk-you-home)

(Source: esssence, via lookingforafucktogive)

A year ago we stayed up till 3 am talking
And today I don’t know how to even say hey
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