Relationships should not be this emotionally draining. They should not make me feel this way. I shouldn’t be sad and on the verge of tears all the time because of the person I love and who is supposed to love me. Why is this so hard?

I need a drink.

I’m not sure how much longer I can go being your verbal punching bag. 

I’m not sure how much longer I can go being unappreciated.

I can not and will not continue to love someone who treats me this way.

Slowly but surely becoming less and less emotionly invested in this..

stele3:

get-your-ass-in-the-impala:

ofgeography:

actualginnyweasley:

i was at a grocery store really late one night and some old guy kind of eyed me as i walked out of the store next to this other lady. She and I made eye contact and i knew she was scared too. we loaded up our groceries into our cars as fast as possible and I had way more bags than her so she got done faster than me. I panicked because i was sure she was going to leave so i just hurried faster, shaking a little, and then i noticed she sat in her car, watching me and making sure nobody came near. She waited not until all my groceries were loaded, or until my cart was put away, or until I got into my car. No, she didn’t drive away until I drove away. 

And that was the moment that I realized how much women need other women. That we can’t win this war without each other and we have to be looking out for each other, every second. 

my last year in new york city, i got off the subway around 9 or 10p.m. i only lived about 5 blocks from the f train, but i hadn’t gotten more than two before a woman’s hand suddenly touched my arm. 

“that guy behind us is following you,” she said. “he was watching you leave the train car and followed you up.”

i hadn’t noticed him, or at least not noticed him following me. when we stopped outside a grocery store, he stopped half a block back and loitered. the woman linked her arm with mine and walked me several blocks out of her way to my front door and made sure i got inside safely.

another time, nocigar and i were walking home and at a stoplight a stranger grabbed my arm when i wouldn’t respond to him and tried to physically drag me over to him. she—who is, by the way, not a very physically imposing girl—ripped his hand off my arm and snarled, “don’t fucking touch her.”

protect your friends. protect strangers. there are good men in the world, but don’t wait for them to do something if you can do it yourself.

I was at a club once and my friend left with her boyfriend so I finished my drink and was heading out to the parking lot when three girls came up to me and basically surrounded me. 

“Those guys behind us were talking about following you. We can walk with you.” 

I have MMA training but have never in my life had been offered the protection and sanction of my own gender. This is so important. 

GIRL CODE. FUCKIN’ GIRL CODE. LEAVE NO GIRL BEHIND. EVER.

I am not weak. In any sense of the word. I am not weak minded, nor am I weak willed, nor am I weak hearted, nor am I weak spirited. I may be kind, but that does not make me weak. I may show my emotions, but that does not make you weak. I’m proud of who I am. And if I’m everso weak, maybe you should consider finiding someone you deem to be stronger than I. 

I just fuckin can’t dude. I swear

theheartofachiefsoulofadragon:

monobeartheater:

chief-blue-meanie:

chief-blue-meanie:

“I keep rearranging the letters of my sisters The Beatles sign on her bedroom door.

She is not happy.” 

I’ve given up trying to make them normal.

ok and now there’s another one

i didnt know the beatles could become so many words

Eh seatbelt

supnoah:

the problem with me is that i dont give a fuck but i still kinda do

pinkmanjesse:

i wonder if the first person to ever follow my blog is still following me