We used to be so happy.

"Do you want attention or something?" No I want to feel like you fucking care about my mental and emotional state if I just fucking walk off and lock myself in the car. Don’t just fucking come in an hour and a half later all upset. You’re too late to fucking ask how I’m feeling. Why talk about it later when we could have fucking talked about it sooner.

Let everything happen to you. Beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Rainer Maria Rilke (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: whyallcaps)

I don’t know if I want to be loved, or just crave the attention. The warmth of another person is comforting enough. But I’m not sure if my heart feels heavy or not.