never apologize for leaving a situation to make yourself happier. your health matters and your happiness is important.

I need you to promise me one thing, no matter what. When we’re happy and when we’re fighting. Even if we decide to be together forever. I don’t need extravagant gestures or expensive gifts or fancy words. There’s only one thing I need you to promise me. When I’m sad, when you’re sad, when I say I’m going to leave, and if I actually leave. No matter how in love with each other we are, when we’re so comfortable with each other we feel like the same person. I still need you to promise me one thing. Promise me you’ll never stop trying.

““It’s okay to lock yourself in the medicine cabinet, to drink all the wine, to do what it takes to stay, without staying. It’s okay to hate God today, to change his name to yours, to want to ruin all that ruined you. It’s okay to feel like only a photograph of yourself, to need a stranger to pull your hair and pin you down. It’s okay to want your mother as you lie alone in bed. It’s okay to break, to fuck, to flame, to church, to crush, to knife, to rock, and rock, and rock, and rock, and rock, and rock. It’s okay to wave goodbye to yourself in the mirror. To write, ‘I don’t want anything.’ It’s okay to despise what you have inherited, to feel dead in a city of pulses.””

— Rachel McKibbens, from “Letter From My Heart to My Brain”

Rip your heart from your chest and wear it on your sleeve. Tell me what you think. Tell me what you dream. Tell me what you feel and what you can’t. Does the rain excite you as Mother Nature hits the drums of the Earth? Or does the rain calm you as She soaks the Earth in all things good? Do you want to see the world? Do you want to see the Northern Lights? Do you want to see the dances in India or the snow in Russia? Can’t you just taste the pastries in France and Caribbean spices? You can inhale the air of the Amazon jungle or feel the breezes in Ireland and Sweden. The world is so vast and diverse. There are so many multifarious places and cultures to explore. There are so many invigorating people to meet. We cannot afford to be afraid anymore.

excerpts from a book i’ll never write #22

I tried to make people happy and I still try. I go through life, expecting myself to be good. I try to be good and helpful and friendly, but people find it pathetic. However, if I don't help, I'm heartless. There is no in between, but there should be. If I'm in a great mood, I'm too perky and happy. If I'm in a horrible mood, I'm too sad and depressed. If I'm in between I'm just confused. If I tell people about my problems, I'm attention seeking. If I don't say anything about my problems, I'm too closed in. Too many friends? Too popular/stuck up. Too little friends? Loner. Scared of things? Wimp. Scared of nothing? Too masculine. Trust issues? Need to open up. Trust too much? Naive. Have a preference for everything? Picky. No preferences? Indecisive. Crop top/shorts = slutty, etc. Sweater/jeans = prude, etc. Wear makeup? Fake. No makeup? Need to get some.

This world judges you, no matter what you do, wear, or say. Everything I do is wrong. Everything I say is incorrect or inappropriate. I know that there is no such thing as perfect. However, I hate the fact that as a society, we cannot accept eachother for who we fucking are. We cannot love eachother, because of the people we are. And that baffles me, because as a human race we have been through so much together. Fought wars, held rallies, cured diseases and discovered new ones, created so much technology we don't know what to do with it, traveled to the moon, created some useless knick-knacks and so much more. Yet, we can't just get along? No, you don't have to like everybody, but you could at least get along with them. Everyday we have to fake smiles and pretend to be happy and love ourselves. I wish we didn't have to do that. I wish that we could go into public and be sad and people would ask, "What's wrong?" Or, "Why? Why are you sad/depressed/anxious/suicidal?" But, no. That'll never happen, because as a human race we can make the most advancements ever, but we can never learn to love eachother, and that's because we can't even learn to love ourselves.

I told you I was depressed. I told you I had anxiety. I told you I had problems and mistakes, but that I was trying and learning. I told you my most outrageous dreams and my only fears. Everyone else skimmed through me like a magazine, but you read the fine print. At least, I thought you did. See, there’s something so irrational and selfish about human beings that nobody seems to see. We can trick people into believing that we care. We can suck the soul from someone and leave them hanging like a corpse. And while I’m sorry for what I did, the fine print reads “be extremely careful. too much of anything can cause this specimen to explode.” So, I suppose you didn’t really read as closely as you promised you would.

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #21

Why? Why would you choose me? Why would anyone choose me? People tell me they love me all the time, but how can I trust that? Maybe this is just me overthinking, because that’s what anxiety does to you. Maybe you’ll read this and think, “how selfish of her” or “how stuck up of her” How horrible of her to think she’s, in any way, different from everyone else! But it tears me apart to think that I want to pour my heart and soul into the palm of your hands, and you might just drop it because you don’t care. And a maybe you don’t care. Maybe I should just up and leave this world... but I really don’t want to.

Excerpts from a book I’ll never write #20

Be as bright as the sun, and as tough as the moon. Be relentless as the rain and graceful as the wind. Don’t let them overthrow you, but do not become ignorant. Middle grounds are hard, but you’ll get there. I promise. Oh, and don’t forget to sprinkle a little of yourself in the mixing bowl.

Excerpt #19 I suppose

LISTEN UP AGAIN KIDS STOP REBLOGGING THIS FUCKING GARBAGE POST. IT IS 100% FUCKING BULLSHIT AND CAN AND MOST DEFINITELY WILL LITERALLY KILL. DO YOU NOT SEE WARNING LABELS THAT SAY “DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING”? THEY AREN’T FUCKING AROUND. YOU CAN FUCKING BURN THEIR ESOPHAGUS BY CAUSING VOMITING, CAUSE CHOKING, DROWNING, OR MAKE IT WORSE! AGAIN DO NOT FORCE ANYTHING DOWN ANYONE’S THROAT. THEY. CAN. DROWN. IF SOMEONE IS LOSING CONCIOUSNESS ALL THE CHIT CHAT IN THE WORLD WILL NOT PREVENT IT AT THAT POINT THEY ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER. “Buuut i don’t wanna take them to the hospital!!!” WELL SUNSHINE GLAD YOU’D RATHER HAVE A DEAD FRIEND THAN A LIVING ONE BUT YOU’RE IN LUCK CALL FUCKING POISON CONTROL. THEY ARE NOT THE COPS. THEY WILL HELP YOU. AND IF THEY SAY GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL YOU GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. NO EXCUSES. 0. NONE. I have seen this shit cross my dash SO MANY TIMES so PLEASE fucking reblog this and prevent some well meaning idiot from accidentally killing someone they love!

I still remember the color of your eyes, the sound of your voice, the beat of your heart, the scent that clings to you. I still remember the summer when you would laugh at me for being awkward and I'd apologize and you'd tell me I had no reason to be sorry. I still remember what it was like to sit in your arms for hours at a time, just being caught in the moment. I remember being able to make memories out of silence with you. I remember that night. It's fuzzy and distant, but I remember. I remember breathing heavily and falling. My vision blurring in and out. I wanted to talk to you, I had to. Bad idea... mistake. Fuck! I realized what I had just done. I tried to make it better, my lungs heaving at the thought of losing you. My head started throbbing to the beat of my heart, which was in a million pieces. My vision went red. It went blurry. It went black.

I woke up. At first, I didn't know who or where I was. I sat up. My vision was still blurry from all the tears still flowing from my eyes. Why was I crying... no. I broke the one person I promised myself I'd never hurt. I read the messages... again... again... again... again... again... again... wait, no, no, no. We cannot go back to square one, where you don't even know my name. Say my name, goddamnit! You were everything to me. People keep telling me to get over it, but they don't understand. You aren't like anyone else. You understand me on a different level. A level on which I can tell you absolutely anything and you wouldn't judge me. You just... understand. I miss you. I miss your warm embrace. I miss the warmth of your breath against my neck. I miss the way your hand fit perfectly in mine. Goddamnit, I miss you and I love you. So, I guess this is goodbye, because your happiness is so much more important than my own.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #18

This excerpt is probably the most important to me. It was purely my greatest fear.

Imagine getting to know someone so well that you don't even have to ask them what they're doing anymore because you already know the schedule for the day. Imagine getting know someone so well that you can actually finish their sentence. Imagine getting to know someone so well, you trust them enough to tell them every detail about yourself. Imagine them  knowing every piece of the puzzle, reading every page of the book titled with your name. Imagine them knowing every single detail about you and your life. Imagine them knowing how you act when you're drunk, high, depressed, anxious, horny, happy, excited, bewildered, scared, hyper, etc. Imagine a person looking at you and seeing your soul and not your face and you know that's what they see. Imagine that, and then fucking that up. Doing something so bad that they're willing to throw away everything, because you hurt them so bad that they are too scared to even try anymore. Imagine walking past them every day and knowing that they finally see you as you see yourself. Your worst fucking nightmare has come true and no matter how hard you try, there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. That... that is my greatest fear.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #17

Don't you give up. Don't you dare give up, because you are worth more than fucking gold. You have all power and control over yourself, over your life. You lost control because you gave up. They took control. I know. STOP! Breathe. Breathe, because you live when you breathe. You own a soul and your soul does not die. It will not die. It will have to live with the regret of killing itself. I'm being hypocritical, but God damn it, you mean the fucking world to someone. In fact, you mean the world to me because you're still here. You've made it this far. Why give up now? You are worth something. You are worth something because you're alive, and that should mean everything to you...

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #16

You've got a long road ahead of you kid. But as long as your smarter than what's in front of you, you'll be fine. It takes brains to survive in this world. It takes courage and fear. Fear that you can overcome. There's nobody out there that's scared of nothing. Some people just have the brains and the courage to get over it. It takes a lot to make it in this world kid, but it shouldn't be a problem for you.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #15

Why the hell would the universe do this? It makes you live this torturous ass life, just so you can die and forget it all in the next life or whatever the hell you people believe. But see? In between birth and death you can do anything you fucking want. Rules are made to be broken and people are made to be used. We have feelings and thoughts and for some reason the universe let's us realize that there is life and death and we just have this short lifespan that's part of this 5 million year span. And somewhere in the mix you're supposed to find love and heartbreak, peace and chaos, riches and poors, good and bad, and you put all of that into this short thing we call life. And people search for the meaning of life, but can't seem to find it. Everyone expects you to learn about it in the next life, but what if that doesn't happen. The unexpected usually doesn't scare me, and I wouldn't really say I'm afraid of death. Hell, I would take my own life. I'm scared of what happens after death. No one has a fucking clue and there are no hints or clues. And some people go through life totally oblivious to the fact that one day, everything they did will be lost and forgotten, even by themselves.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #14

I genuinely thought I would end it that night. And I prefer you be mad at me, rather then manipulating a suicide of your own. And that's where the fault was, my fault. See, when I become destructive, it is not aimed at anybody but myself. However, in order to destroy myself, I must destroy the image other people see. So you see darling, I had to bruise your heart in order to keep it alive. But never shall I do that again. For it is much harder for a heart to heal than many believe.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write #13

No, but you don't understand. This poison is labeled with my name and the directions say, "Take for instant death." Because what's in the bottle is made up of every bad part of me. Every wrong I've done and every mistake that I never had the guts to fix. Every bad thing I've said and all the wrongs I've committed. Run your finger down the index of who I am and you'll realize I'm not a book worth reading. You'll realize that every chapter is bullshit and the book should be burned. Take a walk on the trail that winds through my head and you'll find that I really am better off dead.

Excerpt from a book I'll never write #12