April Lee

I let them circle until I lose my nerve and rope them in from the edge of my teeth. I tell myself I love you.

If you loved him, you would’ve left.

Because after a break-up, every song becomes relatable and a lyrical slap in the face.

We’re all realists until we fall in love.

ENTJ – We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

The difference between your best guy friend and all other guys is that you don’t need to tell your best friend what you’re thinking – because he already knows.

How many coincidences does it take to become a choice? You think you’re clever, but you’re easy to see through. It’s not hard to notice this destructive pattern you desperately weave – because in fact, that’s all you want to be.

How much time do we have to burn before yoga class? An hour? Hell yeah, we’ll read this vacuous article of 101 Weirdest Posts Ever To Appear On Tumblr.

Loving you is like riding a bicycle. I’ll have to expect to get a few scraped knees before I really get the hang of it.

I think that I, along with a large population of this generation, have participated in rating people on a scale of 1-10 (based on their appearance or personality or both) as a grossly superficial and insensitive, yet entertaining past time.

We often live life as two different people: the person we know all too well, the creature of habit; the one who is predictable and falls into old patterns and trends and imperfections – and the person that we don’t know all that well yet, but we want to; the one who we’ve only met in short bursts of confidence or passion or resolve, but can’t wait to meet again.

It’s become so easy for us to take these superficial quantities as benchmarks for measuring our own lives, to gauge where exactly we fall on every spectrum. How successful, smart, rich, happy, loved, respected, accomplished, talented we are.