Failure to be satisfied.

It’s like we have two separate lives and meet somewhere in the middle.

Is that how it’s supposed to be?

Am I meant to sit and wait?

I get quiet when you ask me questions. I don’t know the answers and when I do

I’m afraid to tell you.

I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be with you. But?

But…

I get quiet when I ask questions. I know the answers but want to change them.

I want to change a lot of things

Between you and me.

I want to feel different. I thought I would feel different.

I blame myself.

My imperfections. My wants and my needs for perfection.

You say I’m never satisfied.

I’m not.

I’m never happy.

Is there something wrong?

Don’t ask me. I don’t want to talk. I hate to talk. I don’t know how to talk.

There’s something wrong with this communication. I’m afraid of a lot of things.

Things no one will understand.

Because I am my own person.

But I don’t want to be. I want to be yours. I want you to want me so much more.

And I cry. I cry and I heave.

I lie awake and you have no idea what you put me through.

And I can’t even blame you.

I’m selfish and I expect everyone to understand, but I know they can’t.

Because I can’t tell them. I don’t know how. I don’t know a lot of things.

And us just happens to be one of them…

Sitting in the car listening to the radio and a familiar beat starts playing

turtlebackpackturtlespinn:

I look over to my mom like

and she looks back at me like

so I reach for the dial and turn it and and then Liam starts, “You’re insecure, don’t know what for,” and I’m like

and people in the cars around us were probably like

but I regret absolutely nothing because

This is perfect

(Source: louisthrustingskills, via cupcakechaos)

(Source: lordskiss, via cupcakechaos)

WHEN MY BEER PONG PARTNER HASN’T MADE A SHOT YET

howdoiputthisgently: