Pick her up and pretend you're going to throw her in the pool. She'll scream and fight you, but secretly, she'll love it. Hold her hand while you talk. Hold her hand when you drive. Just hold her hand. Tell her she looks pretty. Look her in the eyes when you talk to her. Protect her. Tell her stupid jokes. Tickle her, even when she says stop. When she starts swearing at you, tell her you love her. Let her fall asleep in your arms. Get her mad, then kiss her. Tease her and let her tease you back. Kiss her on the cheek. Kiss her on the forehead. Just kiss her. Let her wear your clothes. Go slow. Don't push anything. When you fall in love with her, TELL HER.
I think the thing I liked about Lemony Snicket when I was little was that he was not pompous or snide. He was simply describing to me a story, not trying to impart some grand wisdom. (Not that it didn’t, just that it wasn’t the primary goal.) He didn’t expect me to understand everything nor did he pose me as an idiot. He talked to me, not at me.
You are beautiful in your own special way and deserve to be treated like a princess every moment of every day. Don’t try to be anyone else, because you are perfect. Don’t listen to anyone saying you need to be skinnier, you need to wear these clothes, just do things your own way and be yourself. Please reblog this around.
“But death doesn’t scare me. To know exactly when I might expect it, up close in my face, would actually be a comfort. Because to tell the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape.”—Ellen Hopkins, Identical (via hidinginthewoods)
One day a woman’s husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn’t “anymore.” No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more “just one…