We say to girls: “You can have ambition, but not too much You should aim to be successful, but not too successful Otherwise, you will threaten the man”
“When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.”
Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love (via observando)
“Rule number one: Never believe anything anyone tells you in bed. Beds are safe spaces where lies take root and grow, grow, grow all the way to the ceiling until, suddenly, you’ll find yourself surrounded by nothing but lies. Overgrown weeds you have to whack your way through just to get out of bed. Some people never leave though. Some people are comforted by the lies so they sleep with them every night. This can’t be you. You have to get out of bed. As fast as you can. He will say sweet things to you in bed, things you can’t believe are coming out of his mouth. It’s easy to say those sweet things when you’re lying next to a naked body. Try telling them again when you’re in a turtleneck and have a cold and ice is sticking to your face. It’s a lot harder then. He leaves your bed and the second he does, the spell is broken. Even the way he dresses — casually, lazily, dismissive — will be enough to make your heart sink again. “Come back to bed,” you’ll say, patting the sheets. “I can’t. Sorry. Got stuff to do today.” He fills you up just to deplete you later. You can only have him in bed. Outside of it, you can’t have anything. You’re stripped of your rights. Don’t act surprised. You know better than to act surprised. Just get out. He’s a dead-end. He won’t let you love him. Never will. You’re loving brick and mortar. Not a human body. You can love more than a wall. Hell, you need to love more than a wall. He leaves. You lay in bed just a little longer so you can linger with his smells. You decide that you hate him. He hates you. No, wait. That’s still not right. You hate yourself.”
“I swear I’m okay. I’m just tired. And no, not just the kind of tired where I’ve had a long day, but the kind of tired where I slept for 7 hours last night, and yet, I feel as though I haven’t had a good night’s rest in months. The kind of tired where taking a deep breath feels like carrying twice my body weight. The kind of tired where I feel as though I’ve been searching for you as if you were the last piece of buried treasure on this earth. The kind of tired that I fear no amount of sleep can ever cure.”
So numb, I can’t feel anything..