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I want you with all the cracks and the stories you’ve collected and I want to hear them all and kiss you just as I did before I heard them when you were pure in my eyes. But what is purity anyway? Some bullshit concept made up to keep the guilt alive? You’re not your past. You’re the woman who climbed those walls who jumped over them to where we met. We met on the other side. (Taken with instagram)







