If they don’t reply to your texts — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t call you — they’re not interested in you.
If they forget your birthday — they’re not interested in you.
If they’re hung up on their ex — they’re not interested in you.
If they’re obsessed with being single — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t want to meet your friends — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t want you to meet their friends — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t ask questions about your life — they’re not interested in you.
If they don’t tell you things about their life — they’re not interested in you.
If they only speak to you when they want to have sex with you — they’re not interested in you.
If they only have sex with you when they’re drunk — they’re not interested in you.
If they say “should we just keep this between us?’ after you have sex with them — they’re not interested in you.
If they can always find a psychobabble rationale about who “I am” or “you are” or “we are” as reason why you can’t be together — they’re not interested in you.
If they have said for more than six months that they would like to be with you “BUT” — they’re not interested in you.
And if you still need convincing — think of it this way. Think of what the real day-to-day of life is taken up by. Life is birthday parties at terrible pubs. Life is losing your credit card and the annual Melbourne Cup sweepstake in the office. Life is hen’s nights, bucks’ nights, sitting on the phone for three hours to get U2 tickets and not getting them, the apartment upstairs flooding your house, interval training, calorie counting, cancer scares, illegal mini cabs, Secret Santa, rail replacement buses and Dido albums. Dogs die, cars crash, bin liners break, contracts end, curtain rails collapse, trains get delayed, football teams lose. Divorce happens and so do earthquakes and so does An Audience With Michael Bublé. Landlords put rent up, phones get stolen and the supermarket often completely runs out of hummus.
Now, taking all of the above into account — you look me dead in the eye and tell me the truth. Do you really have enough spare energy to pursue someone who isn’t interested in you? Do you really want to waste any more time on top of all of that? No. Me neither. So give it up, my friend. It’s a loser’s game. Delete their number. Don’t go on any more dates with them. Stop lurking their Facebook page. Feels good, doesn’t it?
You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us.
Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection.
I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know.
“Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.”—Azra.T, ”This Is How You Keep Her” (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
Catch her at a glance and don’t look away. If the eyes allow passage to the soul, look at her as if to tell her she is the most perfect thing you have ever laid your eyes on. Even though she takes your breath away, take another deep breath and close the space between you and she. Hold her gently…
I. You were my first kiss and it was full of lake water and worry of getting caught and desperation to know what the taste of your tongue was like
II.You were my second kiss and I had to wipe your spit off my mouth with the back of my hand but I didn’t mind because I could feel the vibrations of your vocal cords in my mouth when you moaned
III. You were my third kiss and i grabbed the back of your neck with my hand and your eyes were so big I could see them with my eyes closed
IV. You were my fourth kiss and you slammed me against the soda machine and both of my lips were in your mouth and all I could think of was that there were only 4 layers of clothes between us
V. You were the last kiss that I’ll get in 6 months and maybe we both had to hide behind the seats of the bus in front of us but your lips said goodbye without moving and you breathed your hope into me
”—I kissed you way more than 5 times, but my memory is as good as my mental health
a.b (via let-me-breathe-deeply)