I’m Emilie. MN. I'm a cake decorator until I can be a dog trainer. I try to stay optimistic. I hate the cold but I think snow is pretty. I love motorcycles, old cars, the smell of leaves in the fall, bonfires, and musty old books. Lions are my favorite animal. My favorite word is blustery and my favorite book is Wuthering Heights. I'm a dog person and I have a min pin named Remington and a catahoula/coyote mix named Alaska. I love Demi Lovato and bird tattoos. Also, Emily Fitch is my spirit animal.

 

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.

It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

kawrying:

so its 2:17 am and my window is open and i burped really loudly and i heard someone yell “what the fuck”


One time I was sitting in the office (with the door shut) at work and I burped and someone ten feet outside the office turned around and just stared at the door.

(Source: nicesato)

blood-orange-handed:

there are three levels to tumblr friendships:

1. super nice messages

2. slightly wierd messages

3. messages with the entirety of bohemian rhapsody lyrics and messages at 4am saying things like “what if you woke up and u were a chicken”

writing-anonymous:

So Emilie’s whispering something about welding carts in her sleep???


What in the fuck

Played 840 times

I am the blank page before you
I am the fine idea you crave
I live and breathe under the moon
And when you cross that bridge
I’ll come find you

Stay awake with me
You know I can’t just let you be
Stay awake with me
Take your hand and come and find me