I wanna go back to the generation when a guy had to get permission from the girl’s parents to ask her out. I wanna go back to the generation where a guy would physically call her and talk to her, not text. I wanna go back to the generation where your first kiss would be with someone you’ve been dating for months, not hookup with a guy you meet in a club. I wanna go back to the generation where a guy would give you his varsity jacket. I wanna go back to the generation where a girl can get any guy just by wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a pair of sneakers. I wanna go back to the generation where the guy wanted the girl, not always just the sex. I wanna go back to the generation where couples slow danced, not grind. I wanna go back to the generation where love actually made sense.

Please don’t get tired of me.

n-lovex:

It happens every time. People lose interest in me. They get tired of me. Suddenly, they don’t bother hitting me up anymore. The conversations become shorter. They forget about me and I just become a distant memory. I wonder if it’s my fault sometimes. But then I realize that people never stay in my life. And there’s nothing I can do about it.

(Source: w0ahpaigexo)

(Source: rosehyps)

(Source: youjustinspiredme)

What happened to you …

(Source: lovequotesrus)

Live your life without regret, don’t be someone they’ll forget.

(Source: deefckyeah)

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Love is when you don’t want to sleep because reality is better than your dreams.

(Source: bulelyl)

I cant sleep

(Source: tonsofphotographyxox)

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(Source: lovequotesrus)

(Source: elinoreegg)

“I’ve been trying to figure out who I am. I can tell you that when I stare at a room long enough, I’m nauseated at how disjointed everything looks - like a dollhouse with ugly furniture. I can tell you that I’ve been so tired lately, no matter how much sleep I get. There are thousands of worlds, universes even, inside of my mind, but I can’t tell you the names of the planets and the galaxies. I’m thinking of how I am, and I’m unsure of what the answer is. I’ve gotten terrible at articulating my thoughts, it seems. My words aren’t flowing. They’re stuck. I’m in a rut. These are my thoughts, but why do they feel so foreign? Where have I gone? I’ve hidden myself in a labyrinth with no end, but I wouldn’t be able to answer you if you asked me what I was hiding from. There are no monsters in my kingdom, but I still tremble in my dreams. If you’ve figured me out, or if you’ve found me, please let me know.”

“Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can’t, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.”

(Source: tearsofapoet)