all my loving

(Source: asthetiques)

It’s when I’m standing six feet away from you and not being able to find the words to tell you how much I love you and how much I miss you that I want to just scream to the whole room that I’m still in love with you. It’s when I’m sitting alone with the phone in my hand dialing your number and hanging up that I would trade a thousand tomorrows for just one yesterday. Then I could just call you to tell you goodnight. It’s when I am really sad about something and need someone to talk to that I realize you’re the only one who really knew me at all. It’s when I cry myself to sleep at night and it hits me how much I would give to hold you at that very moment. It’s when I think about you that I realize no one else in the world is meant for me.

Via The Love Whisperer

(Source: shyhermit)

Love is a funny thing. You expect it to be easy. You expect it to be a world of roses and laughs and perfect moments that you find only in movies. You expect him to always say the right thing, and always know exactly how you feel, or exactly how to react to it. You expect him to calm you down when you’re yelling or to chase you when you run away. You expect so much that you feel entirely, and utterly defeated when something doesn’t exactly match up with all your plans. But that’s the thing, love isn’t a plan. It doesn’t have a certain beginning and it certainly has no end or visible finish line to those deeply in it. Love happens, and it is so incredibly messy.

Via The Love Whisperer

(Source: after-my-death)

(Source: amajor7)

(Source: 2wentysixletters)

Maybe one day we’ll meet again when we’re different people.

Maybe then we’ll be better for each other.

– (via a—failure)

(Source: absentions)

Via Colored Mondays

Cause that’s what life is about. It’s about the times where you lay in the grass next to someone you love. It’s about the color of the sky, it’s about a roaring fire on a winter eve. Everybody hurts, everybody bleeds. Everyone laughs and smiles and loves. And that’s all that it is. There is no meaning of life, it’s nothing that can be defined. It’s a matter of writing your own definition.

– Your daily dose of Love Capsules (via thelovewhisperer) Via The Love Whisperer
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