don’t you hate it when people make a joke about you, about something that you are actually incredibly insecure about and they don’t realize it, but every laugh feels like a stab in your chest, because it hurts so much and brings up memories you’d rather forget. but you can’t say anything, because then people would know your weaknesses. they’d know how insecure you really are. so instead you just laugh it off, and hide the pain you feel inside.
“You can’t find intimacy—you can’t find home—when you’re always hiding behind masks. Intimacy requires a certain level of vulnerability. It requires a certain level of you exposing your fragmented, contradictory self to someone else. You running the risk of having your core self rejected and hurt and misunderstood.”—Junot Díaz (via heavymeowtal)
“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know that just to be alive is a grand thing.”—Agatha Christie (via petrichor-and-nostalgia)