When a man is trying to win the heart of a woman, he studies her, but after he wins her heart and marries her. He often stops learning about her. If the amount he studied her before marriage was equal to a high school. He should continue to learn about her until he gains a college degree, a master’s degree and ultimately a doctorate degree. It is a lifelong journey that draws his heart ever closer to her - Fireproof (2008)
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Second place is just another way of saying first loser.
Nothing beats this kind of intimacy, when it’s about 3am and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. There are no words or intentions, you’re just happy lying next to each other knowing that you never want to do this with anyone else. Just to consider that you’re each, essentially, a bag of bones and organs and muscles, and yet you’re both so much more than that because you’ve found each other and suddenly everything makes so much sense.
If I was a guy for a day,
- Hug a girl to see if it’s true that they can feel their boobs.
- Walk around the house naked.
- Pee behind a building.
- Ask someone to kick me in the balls to see how painful some boys say it hurts.
- Yell at girls at the mall saying, “CAN I HOLLA FOR A DOLLA?”
- Stare at my penis.
- Get a blowjob.
you seem to think that getting a blowjob is easy
it is not
Those moments. Those entire nights. You have her all to yourself. She just lies there watching the movie infront of you. Her arms tucked up infront of her. Her hands nestled beneath her head. You watch how her body moves as she breaths. Your eyes roaming all over her skin. Then you touch her, just resting you upon her hip softly. She jumps a little, turns and smiles at you then returns to the film. You feel warm, a blissful feeling as your fingers trip their way over her skin. She purrs and scrunches her shoulders in quiet contentment sensing the movements without watching. Shuffling backward against you, safe, happy, yours!
everyone on this website has all these super informed opinions theyre really passionate about and im just over here like
How relationships work:
I like your butt.
However, I can notice other butts. They can be nice too.
But your butt is my favourite butt. It’s the nicest butt. Because it’s mine. And I can touch it.
So here are the source links.
FIRSTLY here is where I got Tony Abbott’s (LIBERAL/NATIONAL) list of policies
HERE is section 18C of the racial discrimination act
Basically, we’re fucked. Welcome to Australian Politics
Yep, if he wins the election I will actually be terrified of what’s to come in the near future. I certainly wouldn’t be able to afford uni without HECS debt, which is exactly what he wants to cut.
The fact that they’re both against gay marriage is also so infuriating.
The Mad King was obsessed with [wildfire]. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn’t like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long, half the country was against him. Aerys saw traitors everywhere. So he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city… beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns. Even beneath the Red Keep itself. Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He’s never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the king didn’t listen to me. He didn’t listen to Varys who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. “You can trust the Lannisters,” he said. “The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.” So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city. Once again, I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father’s head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. “Burn them all,” he said. “Burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds.” Tell me, if your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children burned alive, would you have done it? Would you have kept your oath then? First, I killed the pyromancer. And then when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. “Burn them all,” he kept saying. “Burn them all.” I don’t think he expected to die. He… he meant to… burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn’t happen.
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.