I want you to miss me. I want you to recognise me in your morning cereal and the voice of your favourite singer. I want you to wonder where I am when your fingers are stretched beneath your waistband, when you’re lighting up, when you’re tripping up that uneven step on your basement stairs. I want you to think of me when you look into your teacup and your rear-view mirror. I want you.
Camryn Pulaski (via obsoletetime)