If you can’t reblog this, get the fuck off my blog.
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Tell me, tell me babe, why did you leave me?
Your nudes are safe with me.
Not that anyone ever sends me any, but if they did, yeah.
Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.
The Little Prince (via vrban)
