looks so good!
I did not like to be touched, but it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be touched because I craved it too much. I wanted to be held very tight so I would not break. Even now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my breath. I turn my face. I want to cry.
i follow back(:
Post reblogged from with 98,160 notes
i hate when you voluntarily tell your parents some information about your life because you think you can trust them and then they bitch at you for it like congrats you have guaranteed that i will never tell you anything ever again
this is the best picture on tumblr
iluKJEHFGABJDHFGKB DSFLKJSNDFHLGJKSEBGBLFKGJHNB that noise i made was not human
oh my. leo.
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