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She’s smart, but nobody really knows that. She wears turtleneck sweaters and scrunchies and hides her glasses at the very bottom of her backpack. She twiddles her thumbs when she gets nervous and bites her nails upon impending doom. Her room is filled with polka dots and a modern day princess bed. She’s her dad’s favorite and they go out to lunch every Sunday, just the two of them. She has five beautiful best friends all willing to give her the world, yet she settles simply for Saturday brunches and Friday nights in an unknown basement. She loves the ocean more than anything. She kisses boys in the dunes and forgets their names the next morning. She goes on highway adventures with her sister every Wednesday. She studies, she drinks, she laughs, she cries, she smiles, and she writes.
it’s my very own love story, and for once, he’s not the subject (via midnight-mistaken)
the free soul is rare, but you know it when you see it - basically because you feel good, very good, when you are near or with them.

