“ Don’t tell me that you love me, because anyone can tell me that. Tell me that I make you tear up with anger and frustration, but at the end of the day you still want to lay down next to me, put your arms around me, and sleep.
— Unknown (via psych-facts)
“ I decided on you, don’t you get that? I decided on you. I don’t want to go fucking other people and then walk around feeling thrilled and then sad, or empty, or whatever. I like the smell of your hair, and I like the sound of your voice, and I fucking decided on you.