Sorry, not sorry.

I told you to never trust an addict and you shouldn’t have listened.

I told you drugs come first and you shouldn’t have listened.


Not sorry.

I’ve realized why I do drugs. Why I seek them. They don’t keep me sane or happy. But prolong an illusion of happiness or unlonelyness.

I think it’s fucked how you’ll text me non stop one day and then just be too “busy” all of the sudden. Real cool. It’s like I’m not important enough.

When I am with you, there is nowhere else I’d rather be. And I am a person who always wants to be somewhere else.
David Levithan, How They Met, and Other Stories (via feellng)

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Then she kissed him until the sky seemed to fade out and all her smiles and tears to vanish in an ecstasy of eternal seconds.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Ice Palace (via teenager90s)

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