"I was only temporary to you."
An untranslatable, Russian word – Vladimir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom.” (via les-espaces-et-les-sentiments
He’d never cared much for strawberries, but that summer her lips were so stained with the juices that they were all he tasted.
And he’d never had a favourite fruit, but two years later, a new girl is sat in front of him, laughing at his jokes.
"If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?" She asks playfully.
And he remembers how her hands traced the veins in his neck and made their way across his chest. He remembers her soft breathing and limbs draped across his shoulders.
"Strawberries." He tells her. "I could live a life on nothing but strawberries."
- Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #54
"No matter how close I am with someone, there’s always somebody who comes before me - like I’m literally never anybody’s first choice."
"Date someone who meets you half way. Date someone who brings you a glass a water when they get themselves one. Date someone who makes sure you don’t spend money on ridiculous things. Date someone your ex hates and your mom loves. Date someone who’d rather spend a Friday night watching movies, than out with 50 people they barley even talk to. Date someone who sleeps on your chest and leaves a little puddle of drool. Don’t date someone who makes you leave oceans of tears."
- At the end of the day it’s the little things. (via offtheocean