"I love this little apartment. I do! A lot.”
As waves of regret washed over her, Aria sat on the floor and felt like staying down there infinitely. She imagined staying there for so long that all the broken things–the papers which had been thrown all over, the shattered lamp, and finally her aching heart, would soon have a life of its own and fix itself. But that did not happen. Things remained the same and Aria was still on the floor with her her knees pressed to her chest, her cheeks damp and hot from crying. Why was it that, in the midst of all the chaos, the only thought that ran through her mind was that morning she told Ezra how much she loved the little apartment. It was as if her memory had toyed with her feelings, in an attempt to make her feel worse for destroying what was someone else’s treasures. Of course, some things in the room were partially her treasures as well but after all was said and done, the room was not hers, the posters, the coffee table, not even the books which she equally admired. But they all belonged to him. Aria soon realized that she did not love the little apartment for its contents, but she had loved it only for him.
(Source: acquiescently, via ezrafitzgerld)
I fucking miss you why can’t you love me
Good god why do I torture myself with the old messages WHY
I crave your touch so damn much. I miss you to the point of feeling it in my inner core.