I wish you were a book.

You would be my favorite book, one that is worn and soft because I take you everywhere with me. I want to know you by the scent of your yellowing pages. I want to memorize my favorite parts and highlight the bits of you that I like best. I want to write in your margins, melding my thoughts and yours. And I want to sign my name on the inside of your cover, not because you belong to me but rather because I want to be a part of you. 


We were watching a movie. It was a Wednesday and it was just an average day. My hair was pulled back and I was laying with a book in my lap as I glanced up at the show for a few moments that I was only half watching.

He sat at the other end of the sofa, looking perfect as usual. He looked at me briefly. "You know what?" He asked.

"What?" I murmured looking at my book.

"I hate your label."

I stared at him. "What?"

"Your label."

"Which label?"

"Girlfriend. I hate that word. I hate it so much. I don't want you to be my girlfriend anymore. I hate that word. You know what word I like? Fiancee. Or Wife. Those are beautiful words and they fit you much better. I hate girlfriend and I really hope you hate boyfriend. Because I do."

I gaped at him.

He got off the couch knelt in front of me and took my left hand. "I love you. If you don't want to be my fiancee, I'm still going to call you that," he informed me. "Because I hate girlfriend. And it's only a matter of time, my love. Will you marry me?"

"I hate boyfriend," I responded softly, tears clouding my vision. He grinned, ringed me, and kissed me.

I'm 18 and I just held hands with a guy for the first time. And although it was awkward, it was perfect :)

I was in the checkout line at Publix, when "Here Comes the Sun" started playing and the bagger at the end cried out at me, "Here comes the sun!"

I laughed and told him that his mustache looked good on him.

He returned the grin and said, "That smile looks prettier on you."

This popular boy in my school is always being confessed to by girls and repeatedly rejecting them, and I used to get so pissed off by that because he literally didn't give a shit about all those hearts breaking at his cold words and unflinching stare.

But I realised soon after that it's his life, his choices to make, and he shouldn't force himself to be overly polite and nice just to cover up what he doesn't feel;

Those girls will move on, and they'll get stronger.

I would give a lot to see what your face looks like when you get my texts

I look for you in literally every crowd even if I knew there was a 0% chance you'd be there

he said tonight, "who writes love letters anymore, im not dating someone in the 1950s"

and i thought of all of us, and who were writing too, and i know this isnt a dying cause

if past lovers remain friends, it means they were never in love or still are.

we didn't keep in touch, so what does that mean.

I hope she goes to sleep with a smile on her face when I tell her goodnight.