till the sky falls down

unknown + tumblr

“All our young lives we search for someone to love. Someone who makes us complete. We choose partners and change partners. We dance to a song of heartbreak and hope... all the while wondering if somewhere, somehow, there's someone perfect... who might be searching for us.” -- The Wonder Years

the reward is so much greater than the risk

kazumitakashi

Le Love,
I read this blog all the time but over the break I hadn't been able to get to it. I just caught back up and in the process I saw the picture, this picture, you posted and I started crying...

Honestly I know that thousands of people have regrets about risks not taken but mine keep mounting up.

#1: Edwin = “Chances we didn’t take”
Edwin was my really good friend, then one I opened up to without feeling like I needed to get romantically involved with him. He was also the one I couldn’t tell my family or friends about because of his race. When we both started feeling for each other we both knew I would be risking a lot more than he. In the end I didn’t take the chance. REGRET #1.

#2: Mike = “Relationships we were afraid to have”
Mike is a great guy who is slightly older than me. My friend’s initial reaction to him was mixed which caught me off-guard. I ended up telling him we should just be friends way earlier than I should have—I didn’t even give him a chance really. REGRET #2

#3: Mike (again)= “Decisions we waited too long to make”
It’s been 3 weeks since we talked…I screwed it up Big Time. Sometimes I think if texting him and acting like it was an accident just to open up communication again, but I am afraid he is still upset. Why didn’t I just let him in? REGRET #3.

Can someone please tell me how they stop the regrets from mounting up? Because I can’t take many more…..and they are all 100% my fault.

I simply must go

But baby it's cold outside

The answer is no

But baby it's cold outside

Your welcome has been

How lucky that you droped in

So nice and warm

Look out the window at that storm

My sister will be suspicious

Gosh your lips look delcious

 Baby, It's Cold Outside
Frank Loesser

chaos/order

unknown

my confession

leslie

I'm only young. But in my short life I've seen love, love lost and found, love shallow and true. This blog is beautiful, it helps me feel when I was numb before. I don't think you'll publish this, but I trust you to understand, and I need understanding. Here goes.

I don't know why I always do this. There must be a genetic quirk in my brain or something, because I genuinely can't help myself. He is beautiful. He is smart. He is gentle and sweet and sexy and moody and as close to perfection as I can stand. Close as I can imagine. We've never kissed, never touched even. But I am his. For sure, I am his. Whether he wants me or not. There is no doubt about that. I think he wants me too. I think he's close to wanting me, close to doing something about the way we are.
But this weekend. I made my mistake. The same one I always make. To be brutally honest and not in an arrogant way, I've always been the sort of girl with quite a few guys around me, but until this weekend I've managed to keep away from them. Managed to rebuff their advances gently and sweetly while never losing the dreamy expression that the one I belong to gives me. I woke up this weekend. I woke up when I fell asleep in his arms. It wasn't the right him.
I was at this person's house. I drank wine with his mother, and mine. Then they went to bed, he slid a movie into the machine. His house is a beautiful farmhouse in the country; cold and big. We were in the smallest room on a couch with a blanket and a coal fire in the corner. I don't know that I need to be explicit here; one thing led to another. He cradled me in his strong arms, he kissed me with his lips and tongue and teeth, I felt his heart pounding through the thin cotton of my shirt. He was lovely. It was amazing. But he wasn't the right him.
And now I don't know what to do. My guilt is crushing me- not that I really did anything all that wrong. He's not mine, I'm not his. Not officially. But if that's true, why do I feel so sick? This is my confession. I wish I hadn't needed something like this to make me realise how much I love him. Because now I don't deserve him.

I needed to tell someone.
I feel embarrassed, and stupid, both the user and the used, full of self-loathing. This is my confession.


I love you, Christopher, with every shattered piece of my wasted heart. I'm sorry for everything.

fragile hope

tumblr

"The mother-in-law frequently forgets that she was a daughter-in-law." -- Author Unknown

this one goes out to all the best friends

denimandflowers

It's a different type of love, and maybe we all need a break from the achey, sweet love that comes with romance, the kind that excludes the rest of the world, the kind that's limited only to you and him / her.

So this one goes out to all the best friends in the world. The ones that smile for you when you excitedly fall in love with some new, unknown boy. The ones that sit through a pack of cigarettes with you at two to five in the morning listening to you cry about said boy who cheated on you even though they've got to be up at six for work. The ones that take time off work / school just for a little naughty afternoon shopping and eating on weekday. The ones who drag you to social events just to distract you from a broken heart. The ones who respond to every facebook, every twitter status update, just so you don't feel so alone and ignored. The ones who recognize you have a right to feel as shitty as you do about the boy who hurt you even though they'd spent the last two years telling you he was nothing but trash, the ones who don't tell you you're a fool, the ones who tell you you've a right to hurt. Because they're also the ones who have the strength and the love enough to tell you to snap out of it, that he was never worth it, because they're also the ones who have the courage to be honest enough to tell you you'd be a fool to take the manipulative creep back. The ones who bombard his messenger account with warnings to leave you alone, the ones who tell him behind your back to leave you well and alone, to stop messing with your mind when he's already with someone else. The ones who introduce you to new and wonderfully normal and loving boys.

This one also goes out to all the best other-gender best friends in the world. The ones that pick you up late at night for supper, just to take you out of your head. The ones that show you not all the men in the world are screw-ups and traitors, the ones that help you believe that good people still exist in the world. The ones you can laugh with without wanting to kiss, the ones who can give you that insight into that boy's soul you've been dying to know. The ones who swear they'll beat up / get the triads to beat up the poor sod who had the poor judgment to cheat on someone as wonderful and incredible as you even though it's the first night they've met you. This one goes out to all the incredible best other-gender best friends in the world who stuck around even when you abandoned them because your possessive ex-boyfriend went loco every time you even spoke to them. The ones that love you exactly the way you are, the ones that don't mind you snuggling against them just for a warm body without asking for anything more, the ones that come all the way down to the club from home just to drive you home, the ones that cry with you when you sit in your darkness wondering what you've done to deserve such betrayal from the one boy you'd give anything for. The ones that hurt with you when you're drowning in your darkness, the ones that hurt because they see your pain and can't do anything to touch you, to help you.

Friends never betray each other. We fight, sometimes. We disagree. We laugh at each other. But friends, friends are something else altogether. Friends are God's way of saying: here, I know it's tough trying to find your soulmate, but here are some other people you know for sure you can count on forever. They're like family, but better because they love you without the moral obligation attached.

I see you, my lovable friends. And I love you. This is my apology, for doing what I did to our friendships, and this is my way of reminding the world that there is more love in the world that what exists between some guy and a girl.

I love you, my best friends. More than I ever loved him. I promise.

"I had to touch you with my hands, I had to taste you with my tongue; one can't love and do nothing." -- Graham Green

The End of the Affair

never love a wild thing

ffffound

Le Love is now on TWITTER! ♥

"Dating is just awkward moments and one person wants more than the other. It's just that constant strangeness. I think it's a very real thing." -- Jason Schwartzman

he will make me complete

oh magpie!

It's not like I won't find someone new, you know.

We both know it's not exactly a question about lack of choice. It's only a matter of time before I stumble across that person who will somehow make my world magic again. Just by looking at me he'll put a hundred different feelings in my body and my head will go completely blank when he smiles. My heart will skip a beat from the slightest sound of my phone, and everything I do when he's not around will be colored by his absence.

I will meet someone who doesn't have that need of playing games and instead of following all kinds of rules, simply follows his heart. Someone who makes me wanna look past all the times I've been hurt and feel like it's actually worth risking everything again. Someone who makes me wanna fight my fears of opening up so I can let him in, because the thought of him not knowing me completely is far worse than my fear of rejection.

He will sigh at my stupid jokes and the way I tend to forget stuff and mess everything up, but deep down he'll love it because love's not about accepting each others flaws, it's about loving them because they make us who we are. I will find somebody for whom I am prepared to show not just the strong, independent side of me that the rest of the world know, but also the insecurities that make me wake up in the middle in the night crying because I'm sick of hurting.

He will not give me my confidence back or make me love myself again. I have no need for a fairytale prince who lifts me up on his white horse and saves me. He will make me complete though, in a way no one has ever done before, and together we will get struck by love so hard that nothing will ever be the same again. You see, I know he's out there and I won't stop until I find him. Cause I deserve nothing less than to love someone who loves me back and this I know. So there's really no need for you to worry. He could be right around the corner when I walk out this door today.

The thing is,
With all my heart
I still wish he could have been you.

"Some Harvard gymnasts had been doing stunts," said Sophomore Eaton Brooks of the University of North Carolina, nervously fingering his smartly striped tie. "The gentleman from Harvard who was on the other gentleman's shoulders was swinging the chandelier back and forth. I was up on the mantelpiece, watching people crawl on the rafters. One of the other boys up there swung to the floor on the chandelier, and about ten minutes later I guess I wanted to be a gymnast, too." That was when the chandelier collapsed and dumped Tarzan Brooks on the floor.

Eaton Brooks on the $6,000 worth of damage to the Southampton house after Fernanda Wannamaker's debutante ball

Time Magazine, Friday, April 24, 1964

debutante (noun)

1. a young woman of upper class background who is presented to society, usually at a formal ball

2. a girl or young woman regarded as being upper-class, wealthy, and of a frivolous or snobbish social set

"The first symptom of love in a young man is shyness; the first symptom in a woman, it's boldness." 
-- Victor Hugo

"If there is reincarnation, I'd like to come back as Warren Beatty's fingertips." -- Woody Allen

"I didn't know how babies were made until I was pregnant with my fourth child." -- Loretta Lynn

"I was never a dangerous woman. I'm not the prissy blonde woman that could take your husband away." -- Catherine Deneuve

"I do a great deal of research - particularly in the apartments of tall blondes." -- Raymond Chandler

"Also, I am driven by a wonderful muse called alimony." -- Dick Schaap

Penny: Oh, come on, ladies. God wouldn't have given you maracas if He didn't want you to shake 'em.

Dirty Dancing

"Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired." -- Robert Frost

Ritchie Valens: This is like my high school prom.
Bob Morales: Yeah. Except this prom puts out.

La Bamba

You want me to act like we've never kissed.

You want me to forget, pretend we've never met.

And I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet.

You walk by and I fall to pieces.

I Fall to Pieces

Patsy Cline

Skylar: What if I said I wouldn't have sex with you again 'til I got to meet your friends; what would you say?

Will: I'd say it's 4:30 in the morning; they're probably up. [he picks up Skylar's phone and begins dialing]
Skylar: [laughing] Men are shameless. If you're not thinking with your wiener, then you're acting directly on its behalf.

Good Will Hunting

"Bachelors know more about women than married men; if they didn't they'd be married too." -- H.L. Mencken 

Eve Kendall: I tipped the steward five dollars to seat you here if you should come in.

Roger Thornhill: Is that a proposition?
Eve Kendall: I never discuss love on an empty stomach.

Roger Thornhill: You've already eaten!
Eve Kendall: But you haven't.

North by Northwest

"Never get married in the morning, because you never know who you'll meet that night." -- Paul Hornung

Mrs. Fox: You know, you really are... fantastic.
Mr. Fox: I try.

Fantastic Mr. Fox