♪ he stomps on a wineglass wrapped in napkin

as long as it would take to put these pieces back together, he said.

I snuck around and took a tiny shard of glass and threw it into the ocean on the way home, so that, no matter what, that glass could never be reconstructed.

My heart, it kind of feels like that wineglass these days. Like something that's supposed to be whole but - thanks to some idiot who thought she knew better - doesn't stand a freaking chance.

yeah, me neither
10:38 PM

G.
To me, she will always be twenty-one
and I will always be twenty-three.

don't try to get in my head
you won't like the mess

you jump, i jump, jack



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