You know when you misplace something and can’t find it, whether it’s a book or childhood toy or an old leather jacket, and hours pass and you grow desperate and you’re looking everywhere—in closets, under beds, behind couches, and at last, you find it, and you are ecstatic, overjoyed, the relief is palpable. But then, a surge of disappointment hits, followed by a wave of disenchantment, a dreadful realisation that this something or other is not quite as wonderful as you remember it. You begin to grow weary and disillusioned, regretting all the time you wasted on reclaiming it, so you throw it aside, and eventually, you forget it’s existence. I am sorry I let this happen to us.
*Me while having a conversation with my mom*
I want to grow up and live in a small apartment in new york and have a husky and be with you.
Puff your stress away. #dauntless
There’s a reason behind those eyes. Goodnight. ❤️😴
Psychobabble attempts to redefine the entire English language just to make a correct statement incorrect. Psychology is the study of why someone would try to do this.