There are no facts, only interpretations.
Reblog for the last one
it’s a game show where everyone eats the furniture in a room and tries to see which is made of chocolate
So basically you’re telling me this is the best fucking game ever created
I want you, but you’re there and I am here and I can’t help but miss you every second of everyday. I hate not being able to see you whenever I want. I hate not being able to look into your eyes. I hate not being able to get lost in the comfort of your arms. I hate not being able to make you laugh with a silly face. I just hate being apart from you. I hate missing you.