Packing The Makeup On So They Can’t See How Dead My Face Looks.

I could easily show you what ive written.. or I could just read it to you as I pet your hair and tell you how proud I am?? Your choice not mine

if you stay, i’ll keep you.

when you’re under a ton of stress then start to notice your memory worsen, your headaches becoming more frequent, and communication going nonexistent…

"joke"

Dying over this fucking cookie man good lord

just take one please

they make me violently ill

Me telling my friends not to tell him it was me. Not because I think he'd be weirded out. I don't care about what he thinks about me. But because, for once in a very long time, he seems happy. Happy that someone cares. Happy that he received something so miniscule, but he needed it. I don't know if he knows that it's me but, I like it when he's happy. His joy is infectious and I can still feel my heart swell when he's like that. It's no secret that I've always admired him. I would do anything in my power to ensure his happiness. Maybe it's fake, maybe it's real. But it's infectious regardless. I don't care about anything else. I just want him happy.