You won’t walk with me on this perfect stretch of beach darling, but she will, and it makes every tiny scrap of difference.

Nice idea, but the only person I even remotely want to kiss here is my boyfriend. And he’s the reason I’m in this little piece of country :p

I’m so sick of watching shitty TV. there’s like, 80 foxtel channels here and nothing on, but Liam won’t move from the couch. There’s no nightlife in this tiny town, save from the group drinking outside - all over thirty, most around sixty - and I finished my book two days ago. God, I just want to DO something. I want Liam to at least try to entertain me or spend a few minutes of time with me. I’ve had two naps today because I’m so fucking bored. I must have spent at least fifty bucks texting L since getting here on Friday. Frustrated.

Lazy Sunday afternoon wine on the patio, blue sky and beach strolls, party leftovers and delayed telecast footy.

The golden light.

you’re not as messed up as you think you are
your self-absorption makes you messier

just settle down and you will feel a whole lot better, deep down you’re just like everybody else

- reasons not to be an idiot, frank turner

(via lustingforchocolate)

the chime of a new message on msn brings me back to 2010; it’s not quite so cold as it was that june and i’ve limited the conversation to one cup of tea and no jack daniels at all, (no jack daniels ever again,) but i still remember the feeling well, the feeling of collapsing into bed at 4am because the screen was starting to swim before my eyes and the music we talked about because you didn’t want to talk about us anymore.

it’s been a day of nostalgia.

walking down wellington street in either direction, i was haunted even by pieces of my past that were barely connected to the buildings and pathways either side of me.

golden light assaults my hyper-dilated pupils, and the effect is beautiful.

every inch of pavement is so drenched with meaning that the air above it actually feels thicker.

Dear parents,

I’m gonna keep this one short and sweet.

Like any parent-kid relationship, we’ve had some tough times and a fucktonne of misunderstandings, but you guys have always been there for me.

dad, not lecturing me when i crashed your car, i will never not be grateful to you for that.

mum, i actually love hanging out with you. we’re in a good place. if you guys move to KL i’ll miss you both like fuck.

thanks to both of you for your unwavering belief that i can do anything i want, and the freedom to choose what that anything is. 

love, jess.

AJ, you’re a stalker :p

and i shouldn’t have to explain it to you. quit judging, you have no idea what you’re talking about.

what of it?

Dear crush/best friend/love of my life,

sometimes i still find it difficult to believe we’re this good.

you were just some funny guy on the internet, and i was just the girl who was meant to make you a potato bake sandwich (it’s been nearly two years and i still haven’t paid up on that one…)

if i knew then, when you were just a screen name and ALLCAPS and when you thought i was a boy based on my forum posts, that one day i would be living with you and fucking in love with you, i wonder if we’d have gotten here faster. not that it matters, i think the time it took was the time i needed to become the girl who fits us.

i’ve said it before; you’re good for me. you make me someone i actually kinda like. and that’s pretty amazing.

love, jess.

I am rubbing the spot between my eyebrows, because I am drunk, and you always said the way to tell if you were drunk was to see if the spot between your eyebrows was numb.

I miss the us we used to be, but only sometimes.

for clarification, most of these letters will be of no value to anyone reading them. they’re for me… feel free to skim right on by whenever they appear.

i always feel like i should apologise for writing things that exclude their audience.