At sixteen I was sneaking out with bottles of vodka tucked in my jacket so I could drink with you.
On the way there your friends would drive by and ask what I was doing out so late, I would smile because to me you were worth the trouble.
You would kiss me and hold me and I felt like maybe you really cared.
By seventeen we had stopped talking.
I would see you around and we would avoid eye contact.
There wasn’t even a reason- at least I didn’t think there was one.
Summer before I was eighteen I saw you working at the local theatre everything came back to me and I realized how much of my heart you had taken.
I realized you stopped talking to me too deal with your demons.
To deal with the scars on your arms, from too many needles you’d pushed in.
Eighteen and I still love you.
Say the word and I would be back with you on your couch falling asleep to cult classics.
The only boy who ever took a part of me forever-
Call my name and I’ll come home."
- amina catherine, I fell in Love with a Heroin Boy (via mochamisfit)
HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE MOST NOTES ANYTHING I’VE POSTED HAS EVER GOTTEN!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!
Think of how sad and confused your pet would be if you died.
Everyone else would understand the suicide, the accident, whatever it may be, but your pet will still wait for you to come back.
That’s so sad.
Stay gold my loves, we’ll go through this x