Forget everything you think you know about me
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hi, my name is kellie and i am a psychology major! i love the new york rangers, the new york giants, brand new, and dogs. i am a college student born and raised in connecticut and am attending a university in the beautiful state of north carolina.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

(via ariannadantone)

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vinegod:

My dog York won’t do it for the vine by Wellington Boyce

(via warmskin)

fight-0ff-yourdem0ns:

The kids face behind her is my reaction
I give a fuck. I give lots of fucks, actually. I’m a prostitute of feelings.
I knew who I was this morning, but I’ve changed a few times since then.
 Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass  (via larmoyante)

(via anoddfairytale)

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blogwater:

blogwater:

(4) New Messages

When I first started talking to john every morning he’d send me a picture of the sun rising in the morning or when he would go on road trips he’d send me a picture of the sunset and these are some of the pictures he sent.
So thankful to have the best momma in the world. Can’t wait to see you in a little over two weeks. #luckydaughter #cuteeasterstuff #easter #home
I can’t decide whether I’m a good girl wrapped up in a bad girl, or if I’m a bad girl wrapped up in a good girl. And that’s how I know I’m a woman!
― C. JoyBell C. (via psych-quotes)

(via unitedstatessenator)

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foreveralone-lyguy:

I sent my dog outside for standing on the dining room table. This was his response.

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(via xbluefoundation)

5 days ago | Permalink
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