“I got this tattoo a couple days before my wedding. My boyfriend, at the time, wrote me a hand-written note on our anniversary that said, ‘You have my heart.’ The first time he ever saw this tattoo was when I met him at the alter. The look on his face will never leave my mind.”
The best and most beautiful things in the world
cannot be seen, heard, or even touched,
they must be felt with the heart.
— Helen Keller
I’m mad at myself, not you.
I’m mad for always being nice,
always apologizing for things I didn’t do,
for getting attached,
for making you my life,
depending on you,
wasting my time on you,
thinking about you,
wishing for you,
dreaming of you.
But most of all, for not hating you, which I know I should . . .
But I just can’t.
“Life is full of surprises and adventures, but sometimes it’s the seemingly ordinary moments that make life special. Picture Perfect is a tribute to those little moments and a reminder to cherish each and every day.” The Jubilee Project is one of my favorite channels on YouTube, you should definitely check out more of their work, it’s all so wonderful. Here’s to another beautifully made short film that I wanted to share with everyone. Enjoy! 🙂
I know that I don’t own you,
and perhaps I never will,
so my anger when you’re with her,
I have no right to feel.
I know that you don’t owe me,
and I shouldn’t ask for more;
I shouldn’t feel so let down,
all the times when you don’t call.
What I feel, I shouldn’t show you,
so when you’re around I won’t,
I know I’ve no right to feel it –
but it doesn’t mean I don’t.
— Lang Leav —
They never really tell you how the moon got all those deep bruises.
The story goes that the sun saw her one night as he was leaving the sky. He was so taken by her silver face, so calm and beautiful, that he felt himself changed at just the sight of her. In a thoughtless trance, he picked up a few stones and threw them towards her in order to get her attention.
But the sun was too strong, and the stones skipped over the black river of the sky and crashed into her with such a force that she fell back. After the stones settled, they began to spread large bruises across her face. The longer the stones stayed, the deeper the bruises got.
The sun watched in horror as her face begun to turn dark and patched with craters the size of the stones. He couldn’t make his way to her, for there was a barrier that kept them from ever touching.
The moon cried, and the oceans swelled under her pain. Her face was no longer the smooth silver jewel it had once been. She looked across the sky and saw the deep orange sun with a stone still in his hand. She never asked him why he did it, and he could never get close enough to tell her that it was because he loved her.
The bruises never faded, and neither did the moon’s sadness. The sun never forgave himself, so at the end of each day, when he saw the moon take her place, he turned deep orange before turning away.
Some days, when they are both seen in the sky together, you can hear the sun trying to tell her that he is sorry, and that her bruises are beautiful.
— alonesomes —
I’m not a professional pianist, far from it actually — but the piano has always been a great part of my life. It surely is a heartfelt hobby and I try to practice every day so I’ll never forget anything that I’ve taught myself. I first learned how to play when I was four years old, so you can just imagine how much the piano means to me.
Anyways, I found this gorgeous bridal picture whilst surfing the net of wedding photos and fell in love with this one. It’s absolutely vintage and adoring. I can’t stop staring at it with my mouth open. This is must-do whenever I get my bridal pictures done. Classy and romantic! A true romantist’s style in achieving the perfect look. Don’t you think?
I still have all the love letters that I’ve ever received in my entire life all in a shoe box under my bed. I reread them and sift through them from time to time to remind myself of the different loves that I’ve had in the past. They’re not exactly pick-me-ups on a gloomy day or tokens from the passionate loves I’ve once had to brag about to others. They’ve become parts of my memories and myself, that I would never have the heart to part with them.
Some of them are actually too painful to read again. That’s how much I can still feel them. I can feel the connection that the letter brings from the writer onto me. It’s not just a piece of paper with jumbled up words, and it most certainly isn’t something that only triggers a memory.
As I unfold each crease and read each letter I can feel the writer with each curved word that breathes the life into each sentence. I can still smell the cologne that rubbed off on the pages of letters he once wrote to write to me in a hurry, telling me not to worry and he’ll come back home soon. I can see and touch the crinkles of the dried spots with smudged letters with words I can no longer make out from once was wet tears of his and mine because we could not be together. These letters aren’t mere letters, but they breathe and live the love and youth I once shared with someone that was close to heart.
I still like love letters. I would choose to pick a love letter over anything, even today. E-mails and texting doesn’t do anything for me. I’m a little bit traditional when it comes to sappy love tales and love letters are always going to be key into entering my heart. I don’t know why I find it so endearing, but to feel that sincerity and passion along with the time to write it down, makes it seem all so true.
My dearest Allie,
I couldn’t sleep last night because I know it’s over between us. I’m not bitter anymore, because I know that what we had was real. And if in some distant place in the future we see each other in our new lives, I’ll smile at you with joy and remember how we spent the summer beneath the trees, learning from each other and growing in love. The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds, and that’s what you’ve given me. That’s what I hope to give you forever. I love you. I’ll be seeing you.
— Noah [The Notebook, 2004]