being in love is so terrifying. i do not want to lose you, not ever, but i cannot do anything to ease the thought that i will. i do not know how to love, but i know that it is hard. that uncertainty is the sharpest blade. o lover, you are the death of everything that is me.
Grass (the good kind, with lots of dandelions to wish on or make flower crowns out of)
University libraries (the old, nice kind, like at oxford or smth with lots and lots of good, old books)
The inside of a large cottage that only occasionally has the curtains open (the only window that's consistently open is the one in the attic directly overlooking a small writing desk strewn with pens and paper and empty mugs; it is cleaned on sundays when the rest of the windows are open)
It is imperative that you take this in EXACTLY the context they're given 😊
no because i will cry this is so fucking sweet ily