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Feeling very nostalgic as life takes another unexpected turn.

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So,

I have this friend that I used to talk to every day about everything. We shared our hopes and dreams, our fears and our insecurities. He was the first person to make me feel seen and to make me believe I was beautiful. Even now, I think a part of me will always be his because he really knew me to my core. That’s a lot to say about a person you never got to meet in person but I know he felt the same at one time.

I’ll never forget our last conversation. We had one of those goodbyes where we both knew it was the last time we would speak but we didn’t say it out loud. Our conversations had become less and less since I had gotten more serious about my current boyfriend and he finally got back with the girl he had fallen in love with and proposed to. In our last talk, he told me how he proposed to her and I celebrated with him. We wished each other well, thanked each other for everything we were for each other over the years, and told each other we loved one another. The next time I went to check in, his account was gone.

Sometimes I think about him and what our relationship could have become if not for life getting in the way. If not for the distance. If not for the mental health issues. If not for the lack of funds keeping us from seeing each other. I think about him more and more as I get older.

How is he? Did he get married to her like he planned? Do they have kids yet? Are they happy?

I hope they’re happy…that’s really all I ever wanted for him. Someone who would understand him and cherish him the way I always did.

I often wonder if we ever could have worked out if we had had a chance to try. It’s not really worth it to dwell on that thought but I do find myself rubbing the spot above my heart when that dull and bittersweet heartache rears its head.

I don’t really think I want to know that, what I want is a real chance to be a part of my friend’s life. I want a chance to hug him and meet his new wife and introduce him to my favorite person. I wonder if his future children will have blue eyes like him and have the same affinity for writing music.

In honor of this epic friendship that will always go on in my heart, I got a tattoo on my finger to match his. I hope he knows I’m rooting for him and wishing him well and that I’m so grateful to have known him in this life. I realize now how special our friendship really was and how once in a lifetime. When things are hard the way they’ve been lately, I still want to talk to him about it. I think I might just start writing him letters even though I know he’ll never see them. Oh well.

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barbie day

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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.

not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.

you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.

but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.

you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.

but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.

you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.

you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?

you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.

you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!

you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"

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persimmon 🧡

wallpaper set // prints

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“Something will grow from what you are going through. And it will be you.”

— Unknown

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JESSICA CHASTAIN as Lucille Sharpe in CRIMSON PEAK (2015) dir. Guillermo del Toro

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Crimson Peak is SO fucking funny when they first get to the house and Hiddles is like. Oh yeah forget to mention, giant hole in the roof. Also the floor is rotten, someday the whole foundation will collapse. And don't be alarmed if the pipes start bleeding! It's just that the very ground beneath our feet is oozing red liquid, absolutely drenched with it, as though the entire house is bleeding and bloodstained, as though the very earth our family legacy is built upon were one great open wound.

I fucking love Gothic settings. Don't worry about it Edith, welcome to your very normal and inhabitable house.

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Funniest thing about Crimson Peak is that the ghosts are trying to help but they have the misfortune of being visually terrifying and unsightly so it constantly turns into the “WHY ARE YOU RUNNING??” vine

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Fire prince since it was recently 17th anniversary

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Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005)

↳ Sokka praising Toph’s metalbending

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his thousand yard stare and flat ass have captivated me mind and soul

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someone explain why frank is on gerards lap and gerards holding his waist so gently. because.

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The tiktok-ification of tumblr is just 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢