- If you like someone, wait.
- Give lots of compliments, even if you’re shy. Everyone else is too.
- Change. Get a haircut, try new perfume, get new sheets. Become better than you were before.
- Eat healthier. Learn to cook something fancy.
- Get up earlier and watch the sun come up.
- Wear soft clothes, take a bath, drink something warm.
- Meet someone new, even just a friend.
- Become closer with your friends and your family. Call your mother. Cry with your best friend. Tell everyone how much you appreciate them.
- Keep your room clean. Buy some candles. Let the natural light in.
- Make a list of reasons why you’ll be better off without them. Believe they are true, because they are.
- Listen to new music.
- Write everything you’re thinking and feeling. Write letters. Write happy letters, sad letters, and angry letters, even if you’re never going to send them.
- It’s okay to be sad, but not forever. Sadness is not as beautiful as music makes it seem. Lack of sleep makes your eyes droopy, not deep. Wake up every morning and tell yourself you’re going to have a good day.
- Go to the library. Don’t forget to look in the music section.
- Remove them from your life. Get rid of the things they gave you if they make you sad. They’re not worth it. You will never be happy if you continue to hold on to the things that make you sad.
- Make new memories.
- Try to find something to appreciate in everything you do or experience.
- Being alone is okay, you don’t have to surround yourself with people.
- Become your own best friend. Buy yourself coffee and drink it alone in a cafe. Take your time.
- Learn to love every bit of yourself.
|—||Sylvia Plath (via teenager90s)|
I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, “Kiss me harder,” and “You’re a good person,” and, “You brighten my day.” I live my life as straight-forward as possible.
Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.
Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.
But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.
And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.
We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.
We never know when the bus is coming.