“one day we’ll be friends,” i whisper to myself as i continue to not talk to you and instead stalk you silently on my dash.
He’s not my bias because of his looks. He’s not my bias because he’s famous. He’s my bias because somehow, when he hurts, I hurt. Because somehow, his pain is my pain, his joy is my joy, and because my heart is filled with warmth at the very thought of his happiness.
(Source: cameltao)
me:
no trust me he's really attractive google images is just giving us bad results
person:
hey wanna hang out
thoughts: omfg how do i get myself out of this
thoughts: omfg how do i get myself out of this
