When I first started drinking — when I was like 21 — I used to cry about Joni Mitchell all the time after a few glasses of wine. All my friends would know, once I started crying about Joni Mitchell, it was time for me to go to bed.
Marrying young is not the end of my freedom. It means I want to travel and see the world, but with her by my side. It means I still like drinking in bars and dancing in clubs, but stumbling home with her at 2am and eating pizza in our underwear. It means I know that I want to kiss those lips every morning, and every night before bed. If you see marriage as the end of your ‘freedom’, you’re doing it wrong.
�A month apart felt like a prison sentence. Pixelated pictures weren’t enough to make the heart stop hurting. Late night exchanges of words that should have been whispered as we laid, warm and united, in your bed. I started to lose myself, punching walls and breaking skin again. I longed for you to save me.�
Tim Neil, This Is What Love Feels Like (via larmoyante)