Vi manco, sempre. Ritorni prego a me.

“I’ve noticed that whenever a girl (or boy) kills themselves, mounds of people are suddenly saying, ‘It’s a shame, they were so beautiful.’

Here’s an idea: Tell them that while they’re still alive.

Then maybe they’ll stick around to hear it.”

You don’t have to hold it together every second of everyday. It’s okay to break down. It’s okay to cry. You’re not invincible, you’re human.

Something’s wrong.

I don’t know what it is, but I know I’m not supposed to be like this.

Sure, I still laugh and smile and talk to people. I still go out in public and can talk to strangers.

But most of the time, I want to just lie down in bed. I don’t want to move or see people or do anything that I used to love.

And I don’t know why.

For the past few months, my support system has been made up of a very select few. And they’re all gone now. They’re all gone and have more important things to worry about than my stupid problems. But I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

And that scares me. A lot. At times, I don’t even want to be here. In life. I just don’t even want to exist. And I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I hoped I would never go back to it. But for some reason I have. And I don’t know how to get out this time.

I just need somebody. Here. With me.

It’s so cute when a guy worries.

acfamouss:

When they take the time to constantly check up on you, texts you multiple times when you’re delaying in reply. When they call you to make sure you’re doing okay. When they tell you stupid jokes just to cheer you up when you’re sad, and they tell you to put on something warm when you’re sick. I actually find guys who worry really adorable, even if they’re doing these little actions unintentionally, as long as they don’t cross the line of annoying. 

(Source: wthellmichelle, via ayzeee)

What is wrong with me?

Why am I so upset? 

Why can’t I just be normal?