I told my best friend that I felt so un-loved.
He hung up on me, and I burst into tears, thinking he didn’t care about me.
30 minutes later, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find him standing there, skateboard in hand.
He lives a city away. He pulled me into his arms, and told me he loved me.
You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.
— Richard Siken (via jayalzacee) (via poignant) (via quote-book) (via sixfeetontheground) (via ssomuchlove)
(via infinitebutterflies)
Literally, story of my life.
