She makes love just like a woman,
And she aches just like a woman
But she breaks just like a little girl. — Bob Dylan (via exposed-longing)
And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.— Jane Austen, from Sense and Sensibility (Penguin Classics, 2003)
Anonymous asked: You say that you're the luckiest man alive, but I feel like your wife is the luckiest woman alive.
Yeah, but you only get to see the parts of me I’m willing to post. She has to deal with the whole package.
This is important. Read this. Read it again.
We are all only showing each other edited versions. Even if you pour your heart and soul into something. Even if its the most truthful you have ever been….theres another side to your story.
3 versions of everything.
His. Mine. The truth.