sry but depression for me isn’t smudged mascara and crying into a boy’s chest and acting romantic and reckless, it’s honestly just staring at the wall and not showering for days and not going out with friends and feeling so fucking disconnected from everything that i can barely breathe. it’s not pretty. it doesn’t have to be pretty. fuck you for trying to make a mental illness aesthetically pleasing, like it’s something i should be proud of.
nah but… I really was crazy bout u.
It’s a beautiful thing when you get so comfortable with someone and you realize you’re telling them things you’ve never said out loud before