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but you see her on instagram and it was never really said that you guys aren’t friends but one day she stopped answering and you stopped texting and it’s not like the wound is a cavern but it is a diagram of what if in red letters. you want to tell her nice lipstick that’s a good color but the last time you spoke it was stilted and awkward 

how do you say goodbye, you know? it’s not an unfriend and block kind of situation. but you watch the people you once loved go on and have a life and you’re outside of it. and it’s bittersweet because of course it’s okay that you’re both thriving. but she used to be who you’d call if you needed to cry. she used to be who’d you’d be binge watching the new series with. you used to be hers, in a way, even if that way wasn’t permanent. and now she’s someone else and so are you and your friendship is clicking heart shapes next to pictures where she smiles next to people you’ve never met. you know where her birthmark is. she knows where you’ve buried your dead.

the poets and the singers and the authors write about romantic love when it ends. but nobody tells you how to get over a friend.

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people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

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Everyone’s sad without fairy lights. ✨

- Pip Quintana (Loveless, Alice Oseman)

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Is it even an Alice Oseman book if the ending isn't overwhelmingly beautiful?

"After Sadie left, Rooney was the first to hug me. She clambered over the others and just fell on top of me, pushing me down on to the stage and wrapping her arms round me, and I laughed, and she laughed, and we were both just laughing and laughing. Pip joined us next, shouting, ‘I want to be included,’ and leaping on top of us. Sunil rested his head on Rooney’s back, and then Jason wrapped his body round the four of us, and we all just stayed like that for a moment, laughing and babbling and holding each other. At the bottom of the scrum, I was basically being crushed, but it was comforting, in a weird way. The weight of all of them on top of me. Around me. With me. We didn’t have to say it, but we all knew. We all knew what we’d found here. Or, I did, at least. I knew. I’d found it. And this time there was no big declaration. No grand gesture. It was just us, holding each other."

This scene is just *chef's kiss*.

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This Georgia and Rooney scene has my whole damn heart:

‘But you know what I realised on my walk?’ she said. ‘I realise that I love you, Georgia.’

My mouth dropped open.

‘Obviously I’m not romantically in love with you. But I realised that whatever these feelings are for you, I …’ She grinned wildly. ‘I feel like I am in love. Me and you – this is a fucking love story! I feel like I’ve found something most people just don’t get. I feel at home around you in a way I have never felt in my fucking life. And maybe most people would look at us and think that we’re just friends, or whatever, but I know that it’s just … so much MORE than that.’ She gestured dramatically at me with both hands. ‘You changed me. You … you fucking saved me, I swear to God. I know I still do a lot of dumb stuff and I say the wrong things and I still have days where I just feel like shit but … I’ve felt happier over the past few weeks than I have in years.’

Forever grateful to Alice Oseman for creating Loveless and one of my favourite scenes ever.

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If I could spend every night of my life eating snacks and watching something silly in a giant bed with one of my best friends, I’d be happy. My future still terrified me. But everything seemed a little brighter when my best friends were around. - Georgia Warr

Loveless, Alice Oseman.

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In the end, that was the problem with romance. It was so easy to romanticise romance because it was everywhere. It was in music and on TV and in filtered Instagram photos. It was in the air, crisp and alive with fresh possibility. It was in falling leaves, crumbling wooden doorways, scuffed cobblestones and fields of dandelions. It was in the touch of hands, scrawled letters, crumpled sheets and the golden hour. A soft yawn, early morning laughter, shoes lined up together by the door. Eyes across a dance floor. I could see it all, all the time, all around, but when I got closer, I found that nothing was there. A mirage.

- Loveless, Alice Oseman.

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Georgia is me when I was leaving for college the first time :

>> ‘You can message us any time, darling,’ said Mum, as we were saying goodbye outside the college. I felt empty and lost, standing there in the cobbled street in the October cold, my parents about to leave me. I don’t want you to go, was what I wanted to say to them.

Please don’t leave me here alone, I wanted to say. ‘Yeah,’ is what I said.

They both hugged me. I didn’t cry, even though I really, really wanted to. ‘This is the start of a big adventure,’ said Dad. ‘Maybe,’ I mumbled into his jacket. I couldn’t bear to stay and watch them walk away down the road towards the car – when they turned to go, so did I.

&

>> I didn’t want Jason and Pip to go. I hadn’t wanted my parents to go. I didn’t want to be left here alone.

- Loveless, Alice Oseman.

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I'd like to bring to you the story of Ola Ahel. She's a 26 year old mathematics teacher from Gaza.

She once had a bright future ahead of her, having graduated top of her class and with a budding career as a teacher. And no sooner had her career begun than it was abruptly cut short as the genocide began in Oct. 2023.

(ID in Alt)

All momentum in her life has halted and she and her family are now struggling to survive in the north of Gaza. She has very limited access to internet and cannot even advocate for herself as a result. In Northern Gaza, she, alongside her parents and four siblings, are facing a harsh famine as prices are soaring in the region.

Through all this, Ola is keeping her hope alive that she may go back to her career as an educator, and pursue her passions, teaching the next generations of Gazan children.

She is raising money in order to afford the rising cost of staying alive in Gaza currently and I would very much encourage donating to support her. Her fundraiser still is very low on funds.

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Before the war, after I left Gaza for Germany, I used to call my dad almost everday and tell him about my day. He would tell me how everyone else was doing and say that Salah,my little nephew, kept asking where I was.

Now, I hardly ever reach my parents or any of my siblings.I don't think Salah even remembers who I am any more as he struggles to carry water containers. I always find myself agonizing and wondering if I'll ever meet my family again, whether the newborns will see me one day and know that their uncle longs to hold them in his arms.

Every time I look at my dad's picture in our home, smiling and surrounded by his grandchildren, it breaks my heart into a million pieces. The house he dreamed the kids would grow up in was leveled to the ground in a split second. Nothing is left, not even both his shoe shops where he worked so hard to build a future for us all. My siblings are unable to work or finish their studies. There are no schools left for the children. There is no proper food, water, or sanitation, no life; only death and rubble all around.

When my brother sent me a photo of my dad lighting a fire, he still had that same old smile on his face. I was relieved to see him somewhat hopeful but it broke my heart even more. My father is the most resilient and hard-working man I've ever known. He always supported us in whatever we wanted to achieve. His only hope was that his grandkids would grow up safely and happily in their home. He never complained from work and taught us the true meaning of sacrifice and perseverance. Instead of living peacefully with his family, he, the kids, and everyone else have to endure life in a makeshift tent,God knows for how much longer, while their lives are constantly threatened by airstrikes, starvation, and disease. No child, elder, or adult should go through such hardships for this long.

As the injustice persists, we only find solace and hope because the free people of this world are still standing with us. Please continue to support us any way you can. I don't even have the words any more to say how grateful I am to everyone. You have already done so much for us but we need you now more than ever.

Please donate if you can and reblog as many times as possible.

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confusing Odysseus and Orpheus is like confusing a liar and a lyre. send post

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