the intimacy of sharing feelings and thoughts that were buried deep inside with someone who understands and listens to them patiently and acknowledges them and does not make you feel like you're too much is everything
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specificaly i want friends like the marauders.
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"Were you frustrated?" he asked.
"I was. And it's beginning to feel like I could've done something different and still gotten the same result," she said while looking down on her weary hands. Tracing the lines on her palms with her shaky fingers. "I could've done something. I could've made a different choice. I could've found another way. I could've turned on a different road. And it's frustrating to know that, even if I did all that, it could still be the wrong choice."
Where were you? // ma.c.a
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the soft love, where you put your hand on table corners so they won't get hurt, where you bring them coffee everytime you go over to meet them, where you pass by a florist and think of them because they love flowers, where do you find that kind of love?
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you’re in her dms, i’m combing through the footnotes of this goddamned article looking for a fuckign primary source
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