“A boy and a girl run around on the grass at the park. The boy tackles the girl. The girl laughs. She gets up and runs away. She loves to run. He chases, she turns and they grab each other, tumble and land in a pile, giggling. After a few minutes, he tackles her again and she lands a bit hard. She is bigger and physical, but he more than holds his own in roughhousing. She pauses for a second. Then she laughs again; she’s still having fun.
Dad gets his attention, and says, “If she’s not having fun, you have to stop.”
He is two. He needs to hear this now, and so does she. And again, and again, and again, so that like wearing a helmet on the bike it is ingrained.”—Yes Means Yes blog: “visions of female sexual power & a world without rape” (via englishistheartofbullshit)
“Some people are good at being in love. Some people are good at love. Two very different things, I think. Being in love is the romantic part—sex all the time, midday naps in the sheets, the jokes, the laughs, the fun, long conversations with no pauses, overwhelming separation anxiety … Just the best sides of both people, you know? But love begins when the excitement of being in love starts to fade: the stress of life sets in, the butterflies disappear, the sex becomes a chore, the tears, the sadness, the arguments, the cattiness … The worst parts of both people. But if you still want that person by your side through all of those things … that’s when you know—that’s when you know you’re good at love.”—Matthew Healy (via perfect)
“I stopped going to therapy because I knew my therapist was right and I wanted to keep being wrong. I wanted to keep my bad habits like charms on a bracelet. I did not want to be brave. I think I like my brain best in a bar fight with my heart. I think I like myself a little broken. I’m ok if that makes me less loved. I like poetry better than therapy anyway. The poems never judge me for healing wrong.”—Clementine von Radics (via fabala)
“Some do drugs, others go out for a run, but at the end we’re all just searching for that tiny space, perhaps a hole, that gives us shelter from the terrible reality of the world.”—Unknown (via safeslut)
do yoU EVER JUST GET LIKE SOOOOOOOO AFFECTIONATE ABOUT A PERSON LIKE WOW YOU LOVE THEM IMPOSSIBLY AND ITS JUST LIKE WHOA. WHOA YOU’RE ABOUT TO EXPLODE AND YOU GOTTA TELL THEM ABOUT IT AND MAYBE SING ABOUT IT AND DO A DANCE NUMBER ABOUT IT AND CLIMB ALL OVER THEM WITH AFFECTION