I’m 18, but my soul feels older — like a love song played on vinyl, soft and a little cracked with emotion. I believe in slow kisses, long nights, and laughter that makes your chest ache. The moon knows all my secrets — every dream, every heartbreak.
What I love most? The little things that make me feel alive. The slow touch of morning sunlight on my skin. The first sip of coffee when the world is still quiet. Fingers tracing lazy circles on my back. The smell of someone’s perfume that stays on my clothes long after they’re gone.
Turns Off
I don’t like masks - the kind people wear to seem perfect. I prefer honesty, even if it’s messy. I’d rather feel something real than something pretty.
And I don’t like to be touched without emotion. I want connection — the kind that lingers in your breath and stays under your skin long after the moment fades.
What I don’t like… is pretending. Life’s too short not to feel everything fully.
