It’s Tuesday, and you’re stumbling your way around the room, trying to sort out the things you have to do. You stop to briefly kiss the freckles on my nose, asking me about my day - and I love you.
It’s Wednesday, and you’re quietly sprawled on the couch. You pat the spot next to you and pepper kisses on my hair because it’s my least favorite day of the week (and you know it) - and I love you.
It’s Thursday, and you’re wondering what the weekend will bring, but you’re still moaning about how the week is going by too slow for your tastes - and I love you.
It’s Friday, and I’m surrounded by DVDs and snacks you’ve prepared when I was gone. You welcome me with blankets and warmth from your arms - and I love you.
It’s Saturday, and you’re feeling lazy. You won’t let me leave your arms (or is it the other way around?) So you tuck me under your chin as we both wonder how much time we have left before sleep makes us miss each other’s faces - and I love you.
and there’s nothing much to say but
I love you.
Loving you (NJ.)
I was speaking to a friend in Gaza and he told me that his little cousin is writing her name all over her body with her markers, just in case she gets blown up and no one can identify her. She is 11 years old. 11. The psychological pain and trauma the palestinian children go through is absolutely repulsive.
I’m so impressed by girls who can put together a really cute outfit and do their hair and makeup really nice every single day like if I manage to shower and eat breakfast it’s a damn victory
i’m the type of person who will miss you to death but won’t do anything about it because i don’t want to seem like the desperate one