I can’t wait for someone to love me for me. I can’t wait to quit pretending. I can’t wait to be happy. I can’t wait to be sober.

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Positive thoughts brought on by music.

The day I thought I would never get through, I got over you. 

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He’s my California baby, but he was raised in the south, you’ll wanna make him love you, but you can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. He’ll win you with that smile, and he’ll make you feel like a queen, but he’ll drive you bat shit crazy, just take it from me. 

He’s the kind of man that never grew up, and his head is stuck in the clouds, he’s toes are dragging across the sand but his feet won’t touch the ground, and he’ll blame the world, tell you he’s in love with another girl, and he’ll make you feel like a worthless piece of shit, but oh well.

He’s my California baby, but he was raised in south. I can’t get his spirit out of my car, my house, my blouse. And I can still taste his kisses and feel them on my face, but i just can’t help feeling like he was never a mistake. 

Propped up in my chevy, his hand in mine, he didn’t know I was falling in love and I didn’t know I was running out of time. And I can’t help loving him for all his flaws, the way he walked and took off my bra. 

And as silly as it seems, he’s the only part my of my life that doesn’t feel like a dream. He was my california baby, but he was raised in the south. He’s too damn cute for anyone to trust a word that comes out of his mouth. 

I guess I will be okay, even though I lost my baby. Yes, I will be okay, because he’s not the only way for me, to love, someone, like me. 

But he’ll always be my california baby, who was raised in the south, he’s got five stars on his arm and i’ll never forget the shape of his mouth. and I miss those callused hands  and how they traced my imperfect shape. I miss the way he made me feel like everything could be great. I miss his stupid style and the way he flipped his hair. I miss everything about him that everyone else finds so queer. 

And his new girlfriends attractive. She’s gotta bigger ass, and honestly probably a hell of a lot more class. But She’ll never love that boy the way I did. Because I loved him as a child. I was so blinded by his size, his arms, his eyes that I didn’t care about the crap spilling out of his mouth. And I never thought he’d leave me. I thought he really was in love, even though he told me religiously that he’d never fall. 

SO i hope he crashes his car into a wall, or jumps off a bridge. I hope he dies in a brutal way, I hope he loses all his kids. I hope develops a type of cancer, one that eats him from the inside out. I hope he grows old and fat and bald and stout. I hope he never finds love, I hope he dies alone. I hope he ends up happy with himself but I’ll never know. 

I’ll never see him again. not in the ways I wish. Maybe I could have avoided all this shit If I wasn’t such a selfish bitch. Or maybe I was the victim and he’s the disease, either way he never thought it was cute when I lost my keys. But I think chunky and he smells a lil funky and I like the dirty that piles up under his nails. I’d visit him jail, I’d steal all mail, I’d stalk the shit out him if I knew it would do me any well. 

I should of have gone less generic, I should picked a man named steve. I should have ran for my covers, the first time that boy walked by me. 

But it was love at first sight. I just didn’t know it then. But if they put me in the ground today I’d still say that he was my one and only bestest friend. 

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the date is march 17. the year is 2089. disney channel is still airing the luck of the irish.

(via milleroses)

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The Internet at its finest


when people call you “hun”

(Source: meulin-loves-mew, via penissauce)

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