fabulounesswillkillyou

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

It’s often said that work can be an escape, a distraction from the chaos of life, but for me, it's so much more. It’s a lifeline, a fragile yet vital ship keeping me anchored when everything else seems to be crumbling away. Every shift I take on, every patient Iattend to, isn’t just about the job,it's about survival, my own.

Outside the hospital walls, life feels like an unpredictable storm. The pressures, the disappointments, the relentless tournaments life throws at me. There are days when it all feels too much, when the weight of existence presses so heavily on my chest that it's hard to breathe. There are moments when the thoughts creep in, dark and suffocating, whispering lies about hopelessness, tempting you to believe there's no way out.

But then, there’s work. The hospital, despite its chaos and the stress that comes with it, feels like the only place where the noise in my head quiets down. When I'm there, immersed in the urgency of the ER, I find a sense of purpose that drowns out the despair. The needs of my patients, the rhythm of the medical machines, the controlled chaos of saving lives..it all becomes a kind of sanctuary for me. The hospital isn’t just where I work. It’s where I feel safe, protected from the overwhelming challenges outside.

In a way, the hospital is like a fortress. The sterile (not really) walls, the constant hum of activity, the predictability of procedures, they create a bubble that shields me from the relentless assault of your thoughts. When I'm at work, there's no time to spiral, no room for the darkness to creep in. I'm too busy, too needed. And in that, there’s a strange comfort. It’s almost as if the hospital’s walls could keep the world at bay, just for a little while longer.

I'm found myself wishing, more often than I’d like to admit, that I could stay in the hospital forever. That I could be locked in, surrounded by the familiar routines, the beeping monitors, the constant demand for my humble skills. It’s not just about the safety of the routine, but also about the structure it provides. Here, I know my place, I know what’s expected of me, and that certainty is something I crave. The hospital gives me a purpose, a reason to keep going when everything else feels so uncertain.

When I'm at work, I don’t have to face the tournaments of life that seem so impossible to win. I don’t have to pretend that everything is okay when it isn’t. The hospital doesn’t ask me to be anything other than what I am (sometimes more) a healthcare worker, doing my best in the face of whatever comes myway. And sometimes, that’s enough. Sometimes, that’s the only thing that keeps me from falling apart.

It’s ironic, reallyhow a place so full of suffering and pain can be the one place where I feel safe. But it’s true. The hospital has become my refuge, the place where I can hide from the world and, more importantly, from myself. It’s the place where I can focus on something other than the crushing weight of my own thoughts. And in those moments, when I'm lost in the work, I can almost forget about the darkness waiting for me outside those walls.

In the hospital, I find a strange kind of peace. It’s not happiness, not by any means, but it’s a reprieve. A break from the torment of your own mind. And as long as I'm there, as long as I'm needed, I can keep going. I can keep surviving. Because even though the hospital can’t cure what’s broken inside me, it gives you a reason to hold on just a little longer. And right now, that’s enough.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

We all know Oliver got on the train after a silent but emotional adieu on the train platform in CLUSONE and a lone Elio hung his head after seeing his first real love roll out of his life.

But what if in a moment of, "No, I can't do it. I'll think of something, but this I can't do. Not to my Elio.", and Oliver pulls the EMERGENCY BRAKE on the train, apologizes profusely in Italian to the train conductors and lies to them explaining he forgot important documents and manuscripts behind. He'd rather pay a fine than abandon the boy who metaphorically held a mirror up to Oliver and showed him how his life, their lives, could play out together.

Oliver would hop off the train onto the track, running through the weeds alongside the rails. It's not until Elio looks up, hearing the steel wheels suddenly screech to a jerking halt, the kid walks down the platform wondering what's the commotion. He'd recognize that green shirt anywhere. Sure, Elio is wearing Billowy, but he secretly called the green oxford shirt "Midnight".  Elio would be frozen,  his tears welled in his eyes in limbo until the doctorate student professor shouts,

"OLIVERRRR!"

And Elio snaps out of his state realizing it's not a dream and, still choked up, shouts back,

"Eliooooo!"

They closed the distance rapidly in the hot late morning Summer sun; sweat pouring from both when Oliver throws his baggage down - in every sense- and sweeps Elio up into his arms because the wiry, agile teenager had a running start and literally took a leap as you would in an Olympic long jump, using his strongest leg to push off and up from the platform's edge. From there, Elio had every intention of scaling his lover like Everest.

'He came back to me. For me.', Elio thinks to himself with his limbs locked around Oliver's waist and neck. Their mouths crashed together, feverish, needy, impassioned and apologetic. Each kiss salty from sweat and tear tracks of sorrow and regret, now renewed with tears forgiveness, redemption and unbridled joy.

"Wha-, how, wh- you came back.", Elio would stutter softly almost in disbelief, his delicate fingertips caressing, exploring the tall blonde intern's facial features, as if it were braille, like he'd never done before. Tapping out an etude composed only for Oliver. His muse.

Oliver did likewise, charting the lay of Elio's subtle nuances, his lines, broad planes of his lithe, gamin terrain like a cartographer; his astonishingly huge hands as large as his baby faced lover's precious little head. Tilting his head, Oliver kissed his forehead before holding his gaze and simply replied,

"I didn't want to go. I couldn't bear leaving you like that. It hurt too much."

Fingers tangled in each other's hair, until Elio throws his head back, practically begging Oliver to ravish his neck which was his "Achilles heel".  Oliver obliged and has one of his large hands securely holding Elio's tiny rump up because the the kid's backpack is pulling him down.  Eventually he has to put Elio back down on terra firma and pick up his bags. Elio offers to carry both pieces but Oliver insists the boy only carry one while he takes the other as they make their way onto the train platform and the train is off on its intended journey, sans Oliver.

The two young men pause ten feet in front of the station's entrance to the Waiting Room. Before entering to call his parents with the surprising turn of events and that he and his Oliver are ready to come back home, they pause and regard one another.

Elio still has the expression of hero worship shamelessly blushing across his Mediterranean features and Oliver loves it. If Elio didn't already know it, his accidental boyfriend worshipped him too. They drop the carryon bags and just embrace and exhale and Elio can't help but smile contentedly when the 24 year old teacher that looks like he belongs on Mount Olympus with the other gods cups the soon-to-be high school senior's warm, tender face and whispers against his lips,

"I fell in love with you, your parents and this whole place. I owe you all explanations because I can't bear losing you. If you'll have me?" Elio kisses his eye lids, each cheek and both sides of each hand, which causes stomach and heart to flip in unison and he becomes misty at the affection and romanticism this "kid" possesses, before licking and sensuously kissing Oliver's supple lips, as they'd done weeks prior at Monet's Berm, soundly. Claiming him. A kiss of reassurance and 'everything is going to be alright'. Wrongs can and will be righted.

Oliver knew he'd have to come clean about EVERYTHING he didn't disclose to Elio. Hold the younger man's hands as he spills it all. Better back at the villa than in a cowardly long distance phone call with the Atlantic Ocean as a buffer from being slapped or see the pain in those chartreuse eyes.

With Prof. Perlman's connections, influence and genuine fondness for Oliver, surely he could score him a professorship at a University in Milan or just outside of Rome. All that mattered was now, NOW, he was home in Elio's arms and Elio would never be left unsure questioning "What if?"  The stars and their future together is theirs.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

One might not expect it given her established powerful voice and astronomical fame in the Arab world, but it was not uncommon for Oum Kalthoum to express nervousness and stage shyness before commencing. One way she would alleviate this, as illustrated in this rare photograph, is by peeking through the curtains at the massive crowd that she would soon astound.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

It was a difficult moment when we usually part ways. Outside in the streets in the light of the night as we embraced each other. He rested his lips against mine and I couldn’t help it with being greedy wanting more from his radiant grace.

Spontaneous and unsure if we were riding the same wave, I reached for his lips only to end with our laughter at the awkwardness. But despite the sweetness of the first time, this time felt like new. Sighing in that comforting and peaceful embrace of our lips, it turned into a civil war.

Like a battle because we didn’t want to let go of that smooth and passionate feeling. That was the final shake as the bottle was about to burst from the pressure, then it came: “ Is this happening?”, I said softly but firmly.

The words seemed to echo for an eternity back and forth between our chests. He stopped and stared at me. I wore my heart on my sleeve. There was so much that he said without words, he only needed his hand to grab mine in his warm pocket and both of them to hug me when we stop to make time and space an incredible undefined non sense.

What a genuine expression of agreement that reflected from his beautiful eyes, beyond the ability of any man to fake or hide. Then he kissed me even more passionately than ever before. In my heart, I believe that it could be more...

Little by little I realize that here were me and him,hiding from street lamps, it was randomly chosen but I figured it out so late...

It was a moment I will remember significantly and constantly for the rest of my life.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

Intimacy is not something that just happens between two people; it is a way of being alive. At every moment, we are choosing either to reveal ourselves or to protect ourselves, to value ourselves or to diminish ourselves, to tell the truth or to hide. To dive into life or to avoid it. Intimacy is making the choice to be connected to, rather than isolated from, our deepest truth at the moment

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

What am I?

I’m forever stuck in a nonexistent place where no time passes and I do so much and learn so much but I don’t grow. I’m still teenage me wanting more. Wanting less. Wanting anything and everything and I think I should grow up now. Grow out of childish anxiety and sorrows for all things past and everyone has moved on from schools and neighbourhoods and I moved first and swore the loudest on never coming back but now I dream about all things past. Going back. How do you transition from being a lost teenager, to one of those calm and serene souls of integrity and certainty? Because that’s what I must do, now, soon. Do others feel left behind too, or is it just me? Like the train left with everyone on it and I’m still standing on the platform trying to decide if I should watch the sky for another hour or go change my ticket. Maybe sometimes you need to just close your eyes and jump on the train without feeling ready, and grow your steady breath on the way. I think sometimes you don’t know how much you’re capable of until you’re forced to grow into it.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

To my friend who passed away,to the brother who wiped my tears when I cried myself, to the mate who slapped my face to wake me up, to the sweetest who tried his best to support me and to the lover who spoke my language and didn't push me to translate my soul,

I want you to know that I think of you every day. I want you to know that I miss you more than anything, and I would give anything to talk to you one last time. I still remember the last time that I saw you. You were leaving for home, and I begged you not to leave. Your parents will be okay. I told you that I would miss you so much and that I knew it would be a while until I saw you again. For some reason, when I hugged you, I felt like it would be the last time I saw you. Looking back now, I wish I would have spent more time with you, shared more stories with you, and made more memories.

You were the happiest person I knew. I only saw you upset one time in your whole life, and every other time you were smiling the brightest smile I've ever seen. I look at old pictures and videos I have saved of our memories, but it's just not the same, but I know you are happy still. Although it is cliché, I know you are in a better place.

This year has been so hard for me, and so much has happened, but I know you have guided me in the right direction. Somehow, you still influence my life, even if you aren't here. I can't even count the amount of times I needed to talk to you, to call you, because you were the only person I knew would understand my problems or situations I was going through.

I was lucky enough to not experience the death of a loved one until you left my life, but losing someone as precious and perfect as you was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with. All of my accomplishments and achievements since that day have been because of you because I constantly ask myself what you would do whenever I am faced with a tough situation. I know if you were here you would say I am being ridiculous for being so sad, you would laugh at me and tell me to be positive, and you would drive me around in your car, blasting music.

I am listening to the song you recommended me and I found many other covers, and I know you would have loved them so much. I wish I would have been able to show it to you. I wish I had all the pictures of us that you hoarded on your phone, and I wish I could remember that one thing I said that made you spit out your water across the room.

I want you to know that I remember your laugh, your stories, and your tattoo. I remember the way we felt when we realized we were the same person when we decided to be each others Men of honor, and when we were nervous for the first day of college. I wish I would have called you when you asked me to, and I wish I would have visited you like I said I would. I know that doesn't matter anymore, but I thought I would let you know.

So, I just miss you.

Thank you for being the most influential person I've ever met, for accepting and loving everyone, and for being someone that impacted the lives of so many. You will never be forgotten.

To more five years trying to fulfill what we dreamt of, to more five years remembering every single word you told me. However, I can't wait to see you,to tell you what I truly had towards you, earphone to each one of us singing Come on Eileen.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

Emerging.

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

My PTSS story.

I didn’t really know what to write when I set out to talk to you to get MY closure , because Fuck you and your insisting desire to get yours.

It seems dramatic and self-indulgent to want to say things so long after the fact, I should have just been an adult and gotten over it, right? I mean, isn’t that what marks the transition from a child to wise, well-balanced adult ( yeah I used the Urban Dictionary to get a decent explanation): the ability to recognize when something is over and accept that you can’t change it.

Well get yourself a dictionary and be the smart part if us, at least one last time.

As with many things in my life, I guess I sometimes walk around with the frayed strings of what we broke off, words I didn’t say, ways in which I hurt you, the latest of my plans although I want to see you in pain, things that I’ve changed that I wish you could see.

I wish you could see me now, really see me not running after my ass like a paparazzi I know it sounds silly, but I wish you could look at the progress I’m making in my life and the adult that I’m becoming. I feel like I was so much younger when we broke up...

Breaking up?

Oh boy it did happen.

Even though it wasn’t that long ago. When I look back at the words I allowed myself to say to you, and the mistakes that I thought were more than okay to be making, I feel overwhelmed with embarrassment and regret. How could I have let you, someone who knew me well enough to love me, to rub my scalp when I was sick and kiss me while walking home from your house, see me in such an immature, hurtful state? I just want to go back and wipe those ugly moments from your memory. I want you to see me only as I should have been treating you, with compassion and respect. Though I know I am not that person anymore, that the anger and frustration and desire to lash out have drained from my body like some kind of open wound, you aren’t aware. You must still be walking around thinking you broke up with a crazy person, someone unable to show any emotion when cornered other than spite. I want to say I’m sorry. “Sorry” is a hard word to say, though, and not really because you don’t want to admit you’re wrong. It just often feels… insufficient. It feels like I’m trying to make excuses for something. I am sorry. I am sorry that I allowed myself to drag the end of our relationship out so much farther than it should have gone. There are only so many fights, so many words we don’t really mean hurled at each other from across a bedroom or the dashboard of a car before we both have to look in the mirror and say, “Okay, this isn’t working.” I should have done that much sooner, to your wife maybe, than I did, and maybe you should have, too, but I’m not here to blame you and I know that’s hard to believe, because I spent so much time blaming you for things. You weren’t strong enough, or funny enough, or smart enough. You didn’t do things the way I thought you should do them, and therefore you deserved to hear about it. Since then, though, I’ve figured out that running around in circles trying to change people isn’t going to help anyone, and that the only person I can actually change is myself. I want you to understand that I don’t hate you, I hated the person that you were with me. But I also hated the person I was with you. We were like this awful poison coursing through each other’s veins. I was addicted to the feeling of being mad at someone, of fighting, of being righteously indignant and having a bone to pick. I was sick.

When I say that I want you to be happy, I meant it. We’re used to thinking that no one can just move on from a lost love and genuinely want the other person to find happiness somewhere else in life, but I do. It’s taken a while, but I’ve finally realized that we were simply not right for each other and that no amount of fighting and then tearfully telling each other how much we loved each other was going to erase those fundamental differences. I think about what you’re doing, who you’ve become without me, what parts of your personality have risen to the top or almost faded away now that I am no longer a daily influence on your life. I guess it’s kind of selfish to center so many of my questions about you around our relationship, but you have to understand that I only knew you in one context and I wanted to know you outside of it. It’s more now a quiet sadness about the love that has disappeared from my life. We knew each other so well, and meant so much to each other, and now we don’t want to speak with you, at all. It’s as though all of those moments we lived together have just evaporated behind us, and that seems such a shame. I don’t want you back, but I want to be able to talk to the real you, your soul or the entity that dragged me to your arms once, does that make me weird?

That way, It would be nice to feel that all of that love wasn’t meant to just be destroyed by the window of ugliness we experienced towards the end. There were still good things to take out of experience, much that I learned. I hope that you can look back and see things about us that make you smile, that remind you how much fun it could be and in the same time I hope you experience the hardest feelings of guilt and regret....

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

S L E E P L E S S

Was it a sign? God! Tell me What does it mean, playing this particular song at a very particular and random place with a particular person living with him a particular situation? It was infinite, that moment when we looked at each other. The talking stopped, the staring continued as if it's the last thing we're going to do before dying. I swear to your name I wished to put an end to this before it all started. And when I tried to change my visual field to see the sure consistent tough obvious nothingness around me, a touch of my "named after an angel" company changed my wish to the extreme opposite. This same song was the soundtrack of my new wish. All I want is to feel burning flames when he will say my name and to feel passion flow into my bones like blood through my veins. It looked as though we're running out of words to say.

S L O W L Y

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

S E L F - O B S E V A T I O N

When it's time to confess, you don't know what you're saying. Are you telling the truth, or do you confuse your lies with reality? The question is comical. The answer is lost in consciousness. It's even impossible to pretend, eventually, that the question wasn't asked. You've been kidding yourself about yourself for so long, you're someone else. You are just a fragile fabrication. Every morning, you have to wake up, assemble this busy, dissembling monster, and get him on his feet again for another round of fantasy.

T H E   E N D

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

E L E C T R I C A L

Patto! Tell me, who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them with me? I have. I am fucking "Ricardical" crazy. You have, You are fucking "Patrickal" fool. All I see is you, lately, wide awake and in my dreams. I see your face so vividly. You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands grabbing mine, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood, we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the night I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I didn't feel while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know And I don't know what I would do. You gave me feelings, the feelings are so strong. I know you're treating yourself so wrong. So let me take me care of you. I will love you differently. you give me electricity.

N O C E I L I N G

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

N O    A I R

To my Patrick crush who had blown my existence: You know, I roar like a lion for you, you know I'll keep trying until the sun stops rising. I'm just asking your presence, without you, I’ve got no air to breathe in. In the beginning, God created Heaven and Earth. For what it's worth? I think that he might have created you first. It's just my opinion. You know, I roar like a lion for you, but I don't know to do, it's fucking confusing for both of us. I miss your face. I'm dying for the rush because my heart ain't got enough. I need your touch, this is getting serious. Tell me that it's not the end of us. Richie will wait,

S T I L L

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

L O O S E N   U P   M Y                      B U T T O N S

It seems I turned up into the bad Richie to my new Patrick very very beloved crush. You came like a thunderbolt in my world, I'm very confused because of the sweet taste of your kiss. I want you to dig deeper within my "set on fire" soul and to take a chance to recognise that this could be yours.

L O R D H E L P M E

[fabulounesswillkillyou]

T O O      L A T E

They told me that it's just a matter of time. I believed in that, I was fooled by the idea of having a greater life or having a more independent one, I thought of being someone who is capable of facing the next challenges but I failed. What a wicked thing to say. There is no such thing called Moving on and it's a mirage when it's about someone we love. The right thing to do is to accept that we accept what we have and what we deal with. I know it's like committing the same mistake, It's like putting a ton of salt on that unhealable scar and enjoying the pain. We accept the love we think we deserve, this thought never left my mind. I have nothing to say at the end, this song will sum things up. Hey YOU, wherever you are: I LOVE YOU AND I DO WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU AGAIN.No one will take your place in my mind. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dlJew-Dw87I