I'm Rebecca. I'm nineteen, and I live and study in Sydney, Australia. I like puppies, kittens, England, tea, Alex Turner and hopefully, one day, myself.

I’ve always been told not to let one person be so much of my happiness. But you know what? Fuck it. If that’s what you need, then fuck that, let them be exactly that. 

Let this person come into your life and fill up not only the bigger portions - the lonely nights, the long weekends, the coffee breaks between classes - but let them into every little cavity, as well. Let them slip seamlessly into your bed and into your whole being. Before you know it, it’s all effortless; everything you do, you do with them. 

"It’s not going to last," the naysayers will eventually warn you, and try to steer you away from what is almost inevitable destruction. But forget about it. Fall into someone. When you look back at your life, let a period be defined by someone else. See how that total encapsulation feels, how it was to melt into someone else and love them with everything. To be loved back. 

It isn’t healthy. This is a disclaimer. This is probably a bad idea, and there are no guarantees of everything being okay. (They probably won’t be.) But what if things are? What if they’re better than okay? What if this person stays forever and ever, and you never even have to consider the alternative? Or what if they leave, and you’re stronger for it? 

Do whatever you need to do and cling to whoever you love. Just go for it, at a reckless speed and with no intention of stopping, if that’s what you need right now.

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When I was a kid I thought your 20s were supposed to be fun, not filled with perpetual anxiety about financial stability and constantly feeling like an unaccomplished piece of shit. 

(via thisfeelingwillgoaway)

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I need to be a lot stronger than this, and start forging my own path. 

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