Yet I liked him too much — way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn’t get to hurt me more than it did.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
(yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist) (yearns for a past that does not exist)
life is so good when ur reading a book and taking it w u everywhere like your little child
(via cozyvu)











