#end of love

[touchingthevoid]

I’m not entirely sure how this will go, if I’ll manage to do it and, if I do, how long it will take me to get there, but I decided to not let myself be broken by one person’s behaviour.

It’s common for a great deal of autistic people (neurodivergent people in general) to feel like others’ bad behaviour towards us must somehow be our fault.

We’re the “weirdos”, so sure we must have done something weird to deserve it, expecially when those others clearly state that much. Or maybe we aren’t, maybe we didn’t, maybe - just maybe - that’s just a lame excuse they use for the inexcusable.

I don’t want to let one such people define me, define how I see myself and define how I see others.

One person’s narcissism with its typical taking advantage of and disregard for others won’t serve as the means through which I evaluate anyone else. They will not be the lens through which I see the world.

I will not apologise for being me, I will not be ashamed of my autism, and I will not automatically take someone else’s nasty behaviour towards me as being surely my fault.

This is a work in progress, but I won’t let them define me, define how much I love or how much I care for anyone else. My own self included.

[huong1952]

huong1952: Nothing to Dream On

Birds gather at our feet

Waiting for crumbs of love

From the hearts

When togetherness is falling

Apart ...

The sky is dark

We've lost the moon

Our hands no longer hold ...

What did time do to our souls

Washing away dreams

Leaving only emptiness ...

I know birds can be sad

Silently they stand at our feet

Famish they are

No love to feed their songs

Nothing to dream on ...

[the-past-in-words]

[coffeebookslovegt]

Nunca soñé con encontrarte entre miles de personas.

[sofiachetiprendeetiportavia]

Hi…

My name is Sofia.

I joined the Tumblr community, because I'm at a time in my life when, after the end of a love, I see everything black and white.

I hope my blog helps someone overcome the lost of an important person, who decided to lose you.

[austeregreen]

the air smelled of tansy and wormwood though summer of that year was cold and full of rain and settled on the fields like a pale coating but still I was able to smell those herbs to feel more and more bitter aftertaste in my mouth a trickle of juice flowed from my fingers to wrist I licked that juice off even though I knew - it was far too late for us overriped blackberries fermented it was the end of summer

[depressedromanticism]

Now that I think about him i finally feel indifferent towards him .

[yeesiine]

Ohhhh dance me to the end of love

Ohhhh dance me to the end of love

Let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of

Dance me to the end of love...

[chiisana-lion]

[squidflavoredsoup]

mama n her babies

[touchingthevoid]

Loving someone is one of the most dangerous things we can do, a risk we most often don’t even choose taking.

To love a person is to give them an incredible amount of power: the power to make us happy, to make us feel whole, alive, and that our lives are entirely worth living… and the power to make us feel the exact opposite too.

I never ever want to give this amount of power to anyone else ever again.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The math just adds up!

[kensatou]

i'll let phie-san say it:

[kavaleyre]

• The Hanged Man •

“Compared to what Falin went through? This is nothing.”

[asteroidtroglodyte]

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

[mt84]

I'm feel like I'm fuckin dying so slowly...