Why is there so much rain, my dear?
Why the constant falling on my window? Why the sound seeping into my ears, echoing around in my skull, hitting every wall it can to cause absolute agony? Deafening though minuscule. And now it’s followed by pounding. Chaos. Invisible.
Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn’t what romantic songs tell...– Paulo Coelho (via gaywrites)
How do you say goodbye when you’ve hardly said hello?– (via crackersall)