the mrs.

a twenty something military spouse, born and raised in north carolina, lived in mississippi for a year, and now stationed in georgia. i seem to have an unhealthy obsession with the south, having my toes in the sand with an ocean view, endless shopping, cars of all sorts, candles galore, shoes that i'll never wear, and f.r.i.e.n.d.s.

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(via misslucy-rose)

(Source: flyingwithoutwings21, via thedarkirishsilence)

I hope they ask about me & I hope you tell them you fucked up.

Hands: Carol Shlyakhova (via canwejustslow-down)

(Source: strong-but-breakable.tk, via theladysparks)

My friend once told me
she liked this guy because of his hands
And I found it absurd that anyone
would develop feelings over one feature,
and not care about the rest

It wasn’t until you used your hands
to cup the back of my neck the first time we kissed
and I could feel your firm grasp pull me closer,
and my insides exploded
and my head buzzed with bliss.

And the first night you slept over,
you fell asleep with your hand
laid over my stomach
and your fingers felt like a fire
that I didn’t mind burning my skin.

The first time we got drunk,
was the first time you played with my hair,
and my god I was hooked,
I’d drink forever if it meant you’d never stop.

And in public you’d hold my hand,
and rub your thumb in little circles
that left me wanting you more,
no matter what you would never let me go,
I was glued to you,
and I honestly didn’t mind

When we talked about breaking up,
you saw my lips quiver with fear,
and you brushed over my lips with your fingers
before pulling me into your lap
and you kissed me like never before.
With your hands on my hips
pulling me so close to you,
leaving no space in between us.
It was then I realized I never wanted you to go

Its now that,
I finally understand why hands
were the only feature that mattered

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