Consistently Misimagined

If she he loves you, if she he really loves you, you’ll know it. If you can wake up to her him staring at you and it’s not even mildly creepy, if you catch her him smelling the shoulder of the hooded sweatshirt you lent her him for an autumn walk at the beach, and not for B.O., if she he makes you a pancake in the shape of a shark, if she he calls you drunkenly at four in the morning “to talk,” if she he laughs at your jokes when they’re funny and makes fun of you when they’re not, if she he keeps her his fridge stocked with Guinness tallboys for when you come over, if she he tells you how she he wishes she he were closer to her his sister and that her his dad makes her him sad: She He loves you, of course she he loves you.

therealkatiewest: (via thetasteof)