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You’ll meet her. She’s very pretty, even though sometimes she’s sad for many days at a time. You’ll see, when she smiles, you’ll love her. 
(Source: kylethemountainman, via ohladidadida)
You’ll meet her. She’s very pretty, even though sometimes she’s sad for many days at a time. You’ll see, when she smiles, you’ll love her. 
(Source: kylethemountainman, via ohladidadida)
Kiss me, and you will see how important I am. 
(Source: vvrists, via coloredmondays)
Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone’s hair. And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted—wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man, and a self-pity that made you feel small and hurt. Part of you thought: Please don’t look at me. If you don’t, I can still turn away. And part of you thought: Look at me. 
(via memonite)
I’ve learned that memories can have a physical, almost living presence. 
(Source: simply-quotes, via memonite)