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People always say that it hurts at night and apparently screaming into your pillow at 3am is the romantic equivalent of being heartbroken. But sometimes it’s 9am on a Tuesday morning and you’re standing at the kitchen bench waiting for the toast to pop up. And the smell of dusty sunlight and earl gray tea makes you miss him so much you don’t know what to do with your hands.

Rosie Scanlan, “On Missing Them” (via fxk-love)
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burgrs:

im so worried about tall boys….be safe…be careful up there… maybe u should come down here and kiss me

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Slow Come On

Tigers Jaw
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