Ryann Joy

25,390 notes

I was so sentimental about you I’d break any one’s heart for you. My, I was a damned fool. I broke my own heart, too. It’s broken and gone. Everything I believe in and everything I cared about I left for you because you were so wonderful and you loved me so much that love was all that mattered. Love was the greatest thing, wasn’t it?
Ernest Hemingway, To Have And Have Not (via introspectivepoet)

(Source: wikiquote.com, via oscillating-wildly)

213 notes

Instead of asking ourselves, “How can I find security and happiness?” we could ask ourselves, “Can I touch the center of my pain? Can I sit with suffering, both yours and mine, without trying to make it go away? Can I stay present to the ache of loss or disgrace—disappointment in all its many forms—and let it open me?” This is the trick.
Pema Chödron (via yeshecholwa)

(via oscillating-wildly)

17,157 notes

You don’t get it. I barely understood it. I crave the kind of partner that will tell me when I’m wrong. Someone who will take the time to say to me ‘This is going to be a sucky conversation because it’s going to be uncomfortable but if I don’t tell you, I can’t be certain anyone will and I want you to grow continuously into a superb human being.’ Do you get it? Don’t you want someone who wants you to keep growing?
Mya Wright (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)

(Source: danimotown, via planstobesurprised)

49,149 notes

I hope you have the courage to pursue someone who is worth pursuing, and not someone who is convenient. Convenience is impatience disguised as your desires, you are worth more than what time has told you, you are worthy of finding someone who will wait for you; don’t settle for what is easy, settle for what is good.
T.B. LaBerge // Go Now  (via thatkindofwoman)

(Source: tblaberge, via thatkindofwoman)

7,044 notes

He starts it off, as they always do, by saying,
“I still want to be friends” but I am already
on the next subway, the next taxi, the next whatever.
I am thinking about dinner that night, or the next night:
Angus beef, sauteed chicken, mahi mahi fish tacos.
I am thinking about the coffee pot and runner’s knee
and how much money I have in my savings. I am
thinking about hypothermia and missing bodies;
all the knives in my bed. I am thinking about how
the very word promise sounds more like an undoing.
I am thinking about the easiness of mouths.
How they open. How they give so much but also
about how they take away the things our minds
have committed to that permanent place of the brain,
where memories continue to rattle around long after
we’ve stopped shaking. I am thinking about how
he has turned me into a lake and I’ve never learned
how to swim. I am thinking about how I now have to
unlearn all of his secrets. Become a tourist to his body
again, blink against the hurt. I am thinking about
expensive hair cuts and retail therapy, dressing room
girls who are used to outlandish requests from customers.
I am thinking that this isn’t a dress my mother
would approve of, but honey, I look so good in red.
Kristina Haynes, “The Breakup Sweats” (via fleurishes)

(via fear-no-fate-xo)