
“It was a soft October night,”
—
T.S. Eliot, from The Complete Poems And Plays: 1909 – 1950; “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”
(via caradocdearborn)
i found out today my best friend for 15 years, a sister, took her life. my brain hasn’t wrapped itself around it. found out the news, first priority was to clean my headlights. my psyche is doing a good job of protecting me for now. i’m scared to go to sleep
I will never give any weight to the way someone looks at me again
This is the most incredible pain I’ve ever felt and it’s going to get worse. “Maybe I don’t love you. Maybe I was confusing it for something else”. I was bullshitting. Watching your chest rise and fall while you sleep, I have no doubts



