Moon And Sun In 19th Century Paintings.

“I wanna hug you and cry.”

—

"Was he your soulmate?"

She stared at me for a while, then smiled.

"That's just a word." She laughs.

"I think we loved each other with the kind of love that lasts lifetimes. But I loved many people with different kinds of love that would last lifetimes. We had our time and we lived a beautiful life. Is that enough to become a soulmate? I don't know.

"I guess that's it. You love someone in the moment, and you make more of them and then you hope those moments will last forever, knowing that they won't. So you gather those moments in your memory, hold them close and cherish them and make new ones."

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

(source)

casually losing my mind over the intimacy of good morning text messages

"Who's Sisyphus?" she asks. You begin to respond: "it's this myth about a guy being punished in the underworld where he has to-"

Her phone rings.

"One second," she says. A few minutes later, she prompts you to continue: "I'm sorry, I cut you off."

You start again. "Sisyphus is a-"

Her phone rings again. "Sorry, one sec."

Honestly it’s so hard to be the coolest friend who understands everything and calms everyone down

yes, love is work. but love must be two-sided. we are raised to give ourselves until we are drained. if they do not reciprocate, it isn’t love. love isn’t pouring gasoline down the drain in the hope the sparks you felt might light a fire that keeps you warm. love is coming in out of the cold, knowing they’ll already have made you a cup of cocoa.

— franz kafka, the diaries of franz kafka

As I kid, I wanted to be a savior, trailblazer, the prophecy child. I wanted a big life, with ups and ups like the breasts of mountains and lows like the depths of valleys full of forgotten debris. I was convinced the great flood was knocking at my door, beckoning me to become someone bigger. A juvenile fantasy, a hazy dream.

I'm 19 now. It's not a grand big life, I'm no hero. I love my friends and sunday mornings. I like cats and strawberries. No flood, no rapture, no calamity- just quiet weekdays and sleepy weekends. But oh my days, I am full, finally.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

literally all I do is daydream about impossible scenarios

I love daydreaming and not having to participate in life