Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn’t the world, it wasn’t the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don’t know, but it’s so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via quote-book)

imamessarenti:

i get jealous.

of the little things, like you not responding back fast.  i dont care who you hang out with or what you do, but i like when you text me back quickly.  it makes me feel important, like you care about what im thinking and doing. you may not, its okay, but it still makes me think that you care about me.  its those little things that when it takes you an hour to respond that make me question.