“May I ask why you felt little Tiffany deserved to die?”
I’m pretty sure this is why Tumblr gave us photosets.
If there comes a time where I do not reblog this, assume I’m dead
I’m too picky? I’M TOO PICKY?!?! Why, because I’ve known you for a few weeks, because we’ve fooled around, because we’ve slept together….and now you think that it’s an open invitation into my life? No. I, just like everyone else, have needs. I told you up front, I’m not jumping into things, I made myself, crystal clear about this. Sure I like you, sure I could see potential, but you are not my girlfriend. You have no claim, just because you like every post I make on Facebook, because you like every picture I post, because you text me 50 times a day, that does not put you in a position above or ahead of anyone else. You like me, yes I know, I’m a much better person than a lot of people, which is why it’s going to take one hell of a woman to be my partner.
In the last, almost 4 years, I’ve learned way more about relationships, not being in one, than I ever did when I was with someone. I’ve watched friends, family, strangers, how they act and react to each other, in dozens upon dozens of different situations. What is said or done and how the partner reacts to it. I’ve learned so many things I never saw as wrong, really are, I’ve seen that, that comment I thought was funny, and would have been, any other time, was not something I should have said to the person I gave my heart to. Sure there is time to joke and have fun, but there is also a time to be real, and too often, we get comfortable and we forget that.
You want so badly to be my girlfriend, but you don’t know anything about me. I mean, you know I’m good in bed, you know I’m a good father, but you really don’t know me. That’s not something I really share, but it’s also not something anyone really ever looks for. They just want that arm draped across them after sex. I’m not that shallow, I want to talk, I want to know everything about the person I choose to be with. Not just your favorite position, or your favorite flowers, but I want to know what the first movie you saw without your parents was, I want to know why when a certain song comes on the radio, I see you tear up…you hide it well, but I know it’s there. I want to know what to make you when you’re sick, and these are the things I want you to want to know about me. I want to you give a shit, I want you to choose staying home with me sick instead of bar hopping with friends. I want you to want to know everything about me.
I have kids, I have them pretty much ALL the time. I don’t say this to scare you, but you should be scared. They are like me, but smaller and without real world experience. They are the best part of me, but they are kids. That first few weeks, you overlook them, because you are infatuated with me, with being with me, with sleeping with me. But after 3 months, they will still be there, and they will frustrate you, they will drive you up the wall, wanting, needing your attention. You don’t think about that, all you see is what you want, what is giving you butterflies. But they, they never asked for this, they just want someone to play with them, to be a part of their family, that mother figure…. so 6 months down the road when you start to miss having little to no responsibility, and you decide this isn’t working for you, remember, it’s not only my heart you’re breaking, but 3 other little hearts that had nothing to do with any of this happening to them, they become victims of you not having a fucking clue about things.
So yes, I am fucking picky, yes, you will not get that easy access pass that girls in the past have gotten from me. You want me, prove it. If not, enjoy the cooking, enjoy the sex, and accept that that’s all we will likely have.
Nude Portraits series by photographer Trevor Christensen
This is my new favorite thing
This is great
This is like installing Windows on a Mac.
I am physically required to reblog this or my heart will stop beating.
oh my god
So much win
this was the best scene ever… of all time
I need this in my life at all times.
Robin Williams & Koko, 2001
“Robin made Koko smile — something she hadn’t done for over six months, ever since her childhood gorilla companion, Michael, passed away.”
Apparently when her keepers told her he’d died she signed the word ‘cry’