“My mouth hasn’t shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may kiss it again stuck in my brain, which hasn’t stopped thinking about you since well before any kiss. And now the prospect of those kisses seems to wind me like when you slip on the stairs and one of the steps hits you in the middle of the back. The notion of them continuing for what is traditionally terrifying forever excites me to an unfamiliar degree.”—Alex Turner’s St. Valentine’s card to Alexa Chung (via metamorphosisofnarcissus)
Sometimes feelings just creep up on you. You go from enjoying joking around with someone, to doing everything you can to make them laugh again. You go from thinking they are cool, to just thinking about them all the time. There is a transition between merely talking to them and then suddenly…
I’ve been wrestling with this caustic feeling for years now, fighting with my arms to keep it below the surface. It’s buoyant, and that terrifies me. It bobs back up. I wish I could at least float on it to keep it under, but it’s too unwieldy; it only slips out from under me and back to the surface.
I’m tired of treading water. Easy as it would be to let go of this thing entirely and drown, I can’t commit to that.