Dreaming Of Childhood And Summer And Lemonade And Grass With Daisies In It And Running Through Sprinklers

this is an accurate post called “I don’t know whether i want to be harry or niall” 

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summer of indulgences. takeout for dinner two nights in a row. glass after glass of cold peach juice. scratching mosquito bites for the sensuous pleasure of it. climbing past the point of my fingers giving out. taking the long way home. gently pressing the bruises on my heart just to feel the twinge

harry holding the last note in over again jesus 

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“Harry wrote it about his friend who passed away when he was young”

actually, growing up is feeling like i turned sixteen two days ago. i’ve been eighteen for years. fifteen year olds seem so young. wasn’t i fifteen just a few weeks ago? all my friends and i are still twelve. i’m closer to thirty then to being a baby. i never got to be a kid. i never grew past eight. i can’t talk to my mom. i want to sit in her lap forever. the week is going by so slow. an entire year has passed. i want to decide everything for myself. i need someone to tell me exactly what to do.