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Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

you know who i am. i just wanted to let you know that well, the guys you've dated are pricks and you deserve better. you're so beautiful, inside and out. you've got such a good heart, you're wise, thoughtful, sweet, hilarious, caring and i could go on forever. and you've got the voice of a cussing angel. hahaha. i know you're going through a bad time, but please just remember you're fucking awesome and i know you'll find someone who thinks you're as perfect as you think they are. hang in there.

Oh man. You’re too sweet. I’m really not that great. I figure you’re probably someone from on here, and you probably don’t even know me. It’s impossible you’d feel this way about me if you really knew me. I’m actually alot of bad things put together. You’re so sweet, anon. (:

“Chronic illness takes its toll on friendship for several reasons. We become undependable as companions, often having to cancel plans at the last minute if it turns out we can’t get out of bed on the day of a scheduled commitment. And, living in the world of the sick, we gradually have less and less in common with those with whom we worked and played.”

“Knowing these reasons doesn’t make the isolation any less painful an adjustment as we watch people disappear from our lives one by one, some after dozens of years of friendship. On top of this painful personal experience, we also encounter all the ‘healthy living’ advice that tells us that maintaining an active social life enhances both mental and physical health. And so worry is added to isolation.”

——Toni Bernhard——

(via iamkarennicole)

1.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says ‘No, you are beautiful.’
I wonder why I cannot be both.
He kisses me
hard.

2.
My college theater professor once told me
that despite my talent,
I would never be cast as a romantic lead.
We do plays that involve singing animals
and children with the ability to fly,
but apparently no one
has enough willing suspension of disbelief
to go with anyone loving a fat girl.
I daydream regularly
about fucking my boyfriend vigorously on his front lawn.

3.
On the mornings I do not feel pretty,
while he is still asleep,
I sit on the floor and check the pockets of his skinny jeans for motive,
for a punchline,
for other girls’ phone numbers.

4.
When we hold hands in public,
I wonder if he notices the looks —
like he is handling a parade balloon on a crowded sidewalk;
if he notices that my hands are now made of rope.

5.
Dear Cosmo: Fuck you.
I will not take sex tips from you
on how to please a man you think I do not deserve.

6.
He tells me he loves me with the lights on.

7.
I can cup his hip bone in my hand,
feel his ribs without pressing very hard at all.
He does not believe me when I tell him he is beautiful.
Sometimes I fear the day he does will be the day he leaves.

8.
The cute hipster girl at the coffee shop
assumes we are just friends
and flirts over the counter.
I spend the next two weeks
mentally replacing myself with her
in all of our photographs.
When I admit this to him
we spend the evening taking new photos together.
He will not let me delete a single one of them.

9.
The phrase “Big girls need love too” can die in a fire.
Fucking me does not require an asterisk.
Loving me is not a fetish.
Finding me beautiful is not a novelty.
I am not a fucking novelty.

10.
I say, ‘I am fat.’
He says, ‘No. You are so much more’,
and kisses me
hard.

Rachel Wiley (via loveyourchaos)

(Source: hotbroccoli)

Anonymous

Anonymous asked:

you're so beautiful. i can't even think of anything else to say. i love you.

Thanks, Anon. That’s the sweetest thing I have ever received on here. I wish I knew who you were, babe. But again. Thank you!

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