there’s this uneasiness that is bubbling within me that I can’t seem to shake off. i want to trust you. i want to be able to love you and give you the world. but i can’t help but feel like i’ll always be a side piece. a placeholder for the next best thing. and it’s making me question everything. why am i giving so much to someone who could easily replace me if given the choice? i don’t wanna think too much of it because we are nothing. just friends, right? 

nonchalantcroissant:

i want to write the kind of short stories you read in english class that are on this weird level of surrealism that they still haunt you years down the road

(Source: voidrat, via langleav)