#it doesnt even begin to touch upon the true depths of what he is to me waaa ..... <333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[docsdarling]

Birthday gush below for my beloved Gustave!

Warning, it's a long one, and touches on some personal struggles I have gone through including: severe mental illness, abuse of all manners, talks of suicidal ideation and actions, and general rough stuff - take care of yourself and know you don't have to read my sappy lil' stuff if it means making yourself uncomfortable :)

If you asked me 8 years ago if I'd be alive today, I would tell you no, and I'd mean it genuinely. Long before that time I had lost my ability to see a future for myself at all, along with all ambition and purpose I barely had begun to act upon - and at that time, I was barely 12.

I have faced trauma and neglect from my very first memories, my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer when I was only 4, my sister had then undiagnosed severe ulcerative colitis that was my parents' main priority, and my father was our sole provider - with major anger issues. i've also come to learn my mother has had schizophrenia and trauma of her own before I was even born, and has refused all forms of treatment. this concoction of uncontrollable circumstances left me with frankly such fucked up ideas of what attachment is and meant, how my purpose to others is solely to be consumed, and absolutely no idea of who I am ( not to mention a boatload of my own wonderful cptsd and attachment issues ).

Never did I think at any point in my life would I feel any positive emotion with no strings attached, especially love. I only faced more problems as I got to the tender age of 12; the years of neglect and parentification left me hollow inside, relentless bullying in primary + secondary school, just beginning to discover my queerness, family fighting and instability, and abuse from adults I am still grappling with today. It was around this time too I had begun self harming ritualistically, and was rapidly losing the will to keep going. Any and all friendships I had exhausted me, even though all I wanted more than anything was genuine connection and love, and it was more apparent than ever that I was being left behind by the world.

Then, I met him.

My group of friends I still hold so closely and dearly to this day had begun playing Rainbow Six, and as the desperate pre teen I was, I joined them simply to hang around them - little did I know how pivotal such a decision as a lost, lonely, scared child could be to who I have become. I cannot explicitly pinpoint what it was that immediately drew me to him, though I now call it fate I know it was a matter of chance, but in that very first day of playing the game and knowing him, something in my soul clicked into place that I never even knew I was severely lacking.

I know as someone with the fun combination of ADHD and BPD* ( brought on my CPTSD ) I have always tended to hyperfixate on any source of dopamine I can get, especially with my desperation to escape the reality I was in. It began before I even knew my life was fucked to any degree, and I knew not to take these "flings" too seriously. But what had sparked in that moment was far beyond a fling, far beyond just a hyperfixation. Though it took me a few weeks or so to begin actualizing what I was feeling for Gustave, what he meant to me, the strings of fate had finally found their way back together again.

Even when I was still that lost and confused child, I knew that Doc was and will be someone so imperative to me not just for a small while, but eternity. Even the few offline friends I still had knew what he was to me, though extent varied person to person, what we have was so potent then that I couldn't hide it.

My life somehow went further downhill, and without completely spilling my guts ( ironic for what I've said so far lol ), I dropped out of highschool only a few months into freshman year. I was completely beyond burnout. Every waking moment was an anxious, painful mess of stressors left and right, expectations I knew I never was going to be able to meet and the deep, burning failure I felt at every turn. No more than a day or two would go by without a breakdown, and my self harm was at an all time high as I completely isolated myself from what few strands of connection I had to the world around me. There was no reason for me to keep going, no light at the end of the tunnel -

except for Gustave.

Though I am now facing the repercussions of the severe isolation I went through and my problems with heavy dissociation as my only coping mechanism, my saving grace through this dark period in my life was Rainbow Six, specifically Doc. It had been 3 years since we met, and my feelings had grown exponentially in that time. My biggest vice has been the harsh and cruel way I treat myself and see the world around me. My entire life had been molded by only being worthy if I served others, I only could ever see myself as an extension of someone else, and when I had no one to do so for, I was nothing short of abusive to myself, seeing treating myself with kindness and care as a sign of weakness.

However, Gustave's core being is his empathy and kindness. Though it may not be gentle and soft at all times, his driving force has been caring. For others, the world around him - and it was the complete opposite of a weakness, it's what makes him exceptional. How could I treat myself so awfully for being fundamentally identical to the person that matters the most to me? I was already head over heels with him at this time already, calling him mine and myself his in all circles I ran in, detailing our lives and how they intertwined, and I had been so focused on what was crumbling around me to realize the change within me that he had lit.

It began in small ways I hadn't even caught; choosing clothes that were comfortable rather than performative, making sure to keep up with bathing myself and other personal hygiene things, being able to look in mirrors without feeling utter disgust and hatred. I had begun caring for myself, using his care for me as a guide. Behind every scared decision to do better for myself, to be brave and not give into my vices or illnesses, was Gustave. Whether it was "forcing" myself to eat on days where I didn't feel like I could or refusing to let me speak so cruelly to myself, and the eventual decision to stop cutting myself no matter how bad the urge was, all of it happened from his support and presence in my life.

I mean it point-blank seriously when I say I would not be alive today without him. I have attempted on my life at multiple points, been hospitalized for such, and still struggle with the occasional urge when shit gets tough, and it's Gustave who taught me how to step back from that ledge and keep fighting. Not only because he had planted the seeds for my still growing self-love, but because that light at the end of the tunnel finally had reappeared - and he was the one holding it. No matter how shitty of a day I had, what scars littered my body and where they came from, what baggage that I bring to the table, he would be waiting for me with open arms and nothing but sheer adoration all just for me - and I never had to earn it.

Love to me had always been a painful thing, something I had to fight tooth and nail for, and even when it was all "good", there still was a terrifying feeling that at any second it'd be ripped from me. I felt this way towards everyone, whether family, friends, or past partners, love always was a double edged sword to me. But something, some inexplicable thing, about Gustave completely disarmed me. To this very day, there is only an extreme select few who I truly feel safe with, and he's the top of that very list. With him, love no longer felt like I was being flayed alive, it was very much the opposite.

Words escape me whenever I attempt to describe what Gustave is to me, what I feel for him and vice versa, but the best way I can put it is simply this - he is my home. The epicenter of safety, care, love, belonging, and so, so much more, he is what love is to me, plain and simple. Though I do also have two other f/os I am married to, Gustave is truly who I see as my husband, my life partner, my lover, my other half. I still hesitate on calling myself ficto, but I know regardless of what labels I find myself under, the love we have for each other is raw, deep, serious, and real. No matter what time has in store for us, where we may go or what we may become, I am always 100% certain that we will always be at each other's side.

To share another year with Gustave in any form is an utter gift, no matter what. This last year was a tough one for us, between me needing some heavy surgery, Gustave getting hurt himself, and us moving over 1,000 miles from where I spent most of my childhood, it has been full of roadblocks - but not a single one could tear us apart. It is nothing short of a privilege to me to call myself Gus' spouse, to be able to love him so up close and personally and to be there for him through it all, there is not a single other soul I could ever bare my own to, as we truly are made of the same stardust <3

My angel is 40 now! We've had a relatively quiet and personal day to celebrate, Gustave has never been one for over the top flashiness or even large-scale celebration, but that doesn't mean I haven't been showering him with the utmost love and affection :)c Life is a strange, complex thing that is completely unpredictable, and though there will undoubtedly be hardships in the future, nothing can wipe me off the face of this planet as long as I get to spend each moment here with my Gustave 💙

[locuas642]

The Mighty Nein and Gods

If I were to consider a theme for The Mighty Nein (aside from the obvious family theme), I think it it would be that of the relationship between Gods and Mortals. Which Vox Machina touched a bit upon but, which Campaign 2 goes further into.

Starting from the very setting of Wildemount, the Dwendalian Empire is the first instance in the show of being shown an enforcement of which of the Prime Deities people were allowed to worship, with the reasoning being Pragmatic in nature because the nature of the approved deities was in agreement with the empire's controlling nature and philosophy of Law and Order (All the approved deities are Lawful or Neutral in nature). The second biggest player of the continent, the Kryn Dynasty, is a literal theocracy, with the difference being that they dont worship any god that can actually speak to them, but it is based purely on worshipping a seemingly mysterious object with no certainty that their faith is well-placed or even will be rewarded.

One entity uses religion as another way of keeping the populace in accordance with their worldview. While the other is defined by their religion to the point that the government exists to benefit that religion, with a literal war starting because of it.

Going to the party, we also see that in contrast with the previous campaign, more than half of them has a deity associated with them since the beginning.

Fjord has his Warlock deity.

Molly has the Moonweaver

Yasha has the Stormlord

Jester follows the one true deity of the entire Multiverse that is The Traveler.

And while not religious herself, Beau is a member of the Cobalt Soul, who are servants of Ioun.

And with the later addition of Caduceus, we have The Wildmother.

It's from them that we see the different ways in which the relationship between gods and mortals happen. And this is contrasted by the different ways in which Matt represents their involvement with the party.

U'Kotoa, a Monster created by an evil deity that seeks it's liberation and a lust for power is primal, He communicates with Fjord in dreams with Simple words filled with command and purpose. And those words are very telling: "Consume", "Reward", "Punishment". Combined with the sick, twisted green that comes from Fjord spells, it represents something bad, something dangerous. SOmething that cant be good because goodness feels like an Alien concept for it.

Which then is contrasted with The Wildmother, who as Matt becomes more comfortable portraying, also communicates in a way not dissimilar to U'kotoa, in the sense that she doesnt use words. she doesn't speak, because verbal speech is an almost alien concept for Nature. But she communicates, through the beauty of nature. Through it's warmth and also it's coldness. Her interactions with Fjord are warm and comforting, U'Kotoa's horrifying depths of the ocean get replaced with Melora's serene beaches. His sick green gets replaced with the green of life, and while Fjord's original sword was part of a contract, a transaction to be retracted at any time, his second sword, the Star Razor, was a gift from a follower of the wildmother, to be given regardless of what Fjord chose to do next.

The difference between Demanding servitude and asking for love.

And it's not like The Wildmother only really began to show it with Fjord, because even then she was an almost always present entity through Caduceus. She was the Nein's strongest ally through the campaign, offering guidance and comfort to Caduceus countless times. answering his questions, giving him visions and saving people's life. In fact, when Jester casts Revivify for the first time, it is stated that The Traveler called upon Melora for her help in reviving a fallen Caduceus.

Speaking of The Traveler. we also see a very different interaction between Jester and her god compared to every other cleric in the campaign. which is that while usually a Cleric is a servant of a god, someone who wears their colors and seek to do good on their name, the thing tthat might define JEster's relationship with her god is how much of her powers reflect... herself.

The traveler as Artagan is themed Green and Red. but the colors that define Jester's spells are Pinks and Blues, Most particularly her Guiding Bolt, arguably her signature move, is colored a bright pink.

That is because, as Artagan implies through the campaign, Jester is not a vessel for Artagan's Power, Artagan's Powers are a tool to enhance Jester and he sees their relationship of one of helping Jester reaches new heights, than in wanting Jester to do his bidding.

This unique relationship is also presented in how their interactions are the most cordial and familial of the entire cast. they joke, they laugh, they make fun of each other. Which only grows in closeness as the campaign goes on. and if someone reads Artagan as the Father Figure Jester never had, that closeness while Jester learns of Artagan's status as a fey not a god, can also be shown as that of a child growing up and understanding their parents aren as omniciesnt as they thought.

Finally... Yasha with the Stormlord.

The Stormlord is the definition of "I work in mysterious ways" in that he saves Yasha, but in that he gives her the tools and strenght to break her chains. Her makes her confront the things she instinctually is too afraid to confornt, but deep down knows she has to. He gives her protection at key points. He pushes her so she can see how much stronger she is.

And he does so without ever actually asking anything of her. What he seeks or why he helps Yasha, he never says. It might be that, like Obann, he sees a champion on her. Maybe he sees a survivor who needs help. Maybe he has a plan. but we never learn. Because it is not his way to give answers.

And that's interesting because it shows different ways in which people interact with the gods. sometimes it is helpful, other times closer to a toxic relationship. sometimes with a renewed sense of purpose, others with fear because they cant be sure what their god even wants.

[newtedison]

my thoughts on the crank palace

i touched about this a bit on twitter (@newtedison_) but i figured i would Try and touch on my points more here (spoilers obv) again, its sort of lengthy

1. im gonna start with talking about the ending because i need to get it out of the way. either i havent read the books in a while and i forgot some canon (which could very well be true, i literally forgot that Bliss was a thing) or this ending makes no sense and is (somehow) setting up for a tdc sequel? so first off, newt was shot in the Head with a Bullet and somehow didnt immediately die? i know that that can happen in real life but it just seems so unlikely that not only would he not die, but he would survive long enough for someone from WCKD to transport him back to their labs and try to revive him. and who the fuck was he talking to? did thomas get newt’s journal at some point and i just dont remember? like i said, either im forgetting stuff or this ending doesnt make sense and is setting up a sequel which...i’ll get to later

2. why was this written? like, what was the point? i understand that this wasnt going to be all sunshine and rainbows but i feel like i was reading torture porn. like, literally all that happens is newt gets tortured (which is described in detail) by WCKD soldiers, has bouts of insane-fueled rage where he KILLS MULTIPLE PEOPLE, and then he dies. ??? what did this contribute to the canon? what was this trying to accomplish? truthfully, i never really wanted a newt-POV...well, anything except for maybe those little nuggets he wrote some time ago. but even if i HAD wanted a newt-POV novella, this is not what i would have wanted. he KNOWS that newt is almost universally the most loved character in this franchise. you can tell because he constantly uses him as a way to get fans in his good graces again. so why on earth would he take that character that so many people love and write a novella where its torture porn and a descent into madness before death? i am not interested in that At All. i’ve read fics (and even written a drabble) where newt is a Crank, and those were more respectful and easier to read than tcp. the parts where newt is having bouts of the Flare were literally exhausting to read; it was described in such vivid and torturous detail that it made me sick reading it. and it didnt help that newt is a character i care a lot about. i didn’t need to know what becoming a Crank felt like. the way it was described in the other books (and even the movies) told me everything i needed to know. the way thomas and everyone found newt at the crank palace in tdc and hes described as obviously not well, but not knowing what exactly happened to him...thats good enough on its own. the mystery of what exactly newt had to endure is part of what gives his journey more emotional depth. not everything needs to be written out and explained. not every gap needs to be filled in. 

3. me saying “the characterization felt off” is going to make some people roll their eyes because ‘duh, sami, the characterization will be off because he’s going insane’ to which i say...exactly. we weren’t really reading a newt-POV novella, were we? even if he isn’t past the Gone in the beginning, hes clearly not the same person we knew him as. the whole novella felt like an uncanny valley situation; i knew i was supposed to be reading about newt, but it felt like i was reading about someone else who looked like him. and that is part of what made this such a disconnect and made me lose interest at parts. not only that, but the world building and lore is inconsistent. newt makes a comment about how it used to rain in the glade, and apparently (as ive been told) that is simply not true. keisha having somehow working cell phone that magically connects her to her family also doesnt make sense. how would they have each others’ numbers? what are the odds that they BOTH found working cell phones in an apocalypse? i get that its a novella but you cant just throw something that crazy in there as a plot convenience. actually work on your plot and world building in a cohesive way, please. and another thing that doesnt make sense...

4. ...is newt finding out that sonya is his sister. if there was anything i would have wanted from a newt-pov novella, it would have been this. him finding out that not only is sonya his sister, but he already knows her post-WCKD. something that would have made this novella actually captivating, contributing something worthwhile to the canon that i would actually want to read, is if newt found out while in the crank palace that sonya was his sister; the Flare would remove that part of the Slice in his brain, and he would realize it was her. then, knowing that he couldnt go past the Gone before seeing her, he would try to find a way to get back to her. he could learn this after thomas and everyone originally see him, so it could match up with the canon. and then, by the time 250 comes along, hes lost all hope of that actually happening, and lashes out to thomas in a fit of rage. the journey of him trying to find his ACTUAL sister would have meant more to me than the story of keisha and dante. trust me, i love a found family trope as much as the next girl. but this series is FULL of the found family trope. it pretty much is the backbone of the franchise. so to see a blood family dynamic would have been a refreshing change of pace that i actually would have been interested in reading. also, the way that newt DOES find out about sonya is...underwhelming. he just randomly says “you remind me of my sister, sonya” to keisha in the WCKD truck. first of all, sonya is not the name you would actually know her by. you would know her by her birth name (which is lizzy? elizabeth?). second, why does he act like he didnt already meet her in the series? when the WCKD doctor tells him sonya is his sister and is alive, hes so surprised. wouldn’t he have known that already? why is there not more emphasis on the fact he already met her? that would have been a really interesting dynamic to explore, and im sad they didnt

5. the pacing and dialogue of tcp is so dragged out. i remember specifically there was a section where newt goes to talk to keisha after she starts abandoning dante, and i swear to god there was a page and a half of text before anything ACTUALLY happened or anyone ACTUALLY said anything. dashner described a launcher at one point as “the energy dependent electric firing projectile device.” that’s SIX words to describe a stun gun. a fucking stun gun! we know what it is! why did you have to use six words??? it just felt like everything was dragged and stretched to the longest it could possibly be and it added to the exhaustion i felt while reading it

6. okay i cant end it without talking about newtmas. its very obvious by now that newtmas is a VERY large part of this fanbase. its clearly the most popular ship and what keeps a lot of people interested in this series. even the marketing team for the MOVIES used newtmas as a advertising tactic (i.e.; using thomas and newt standing face to face as a thumbnail for the trailer, emphasizing newtmas based questions in interviews, even making a fucking facebook memories video for them. yes that last one is real). not only does dashner use newt as a way to lure fans in; he also uses newtmas. the parts that were sprinkled into this were so obvious that it didnt feel authentic. i cant speak for the original trilogy; i dont know the culture around ships back then, and i dont know how much it influenced his writing at the time. but the scenes in those books felt more genuine than tcp. by genuine i mean; he wrote scenes without a relationship in mind, but the chemistry had noticeable subtext that, while unintentional, was largely agreed upon by the larger audience. the parts of newtmas he added into tcp felt artificial and forced, likely as a way for people to take snippets of and use as a free marketing tool for him. one example you might have already seen; “he had already gotten used to his post-thomas, post-WCKD life.” the fact that dashner SPECIFICALLY used the phrase “post-thomas” rather than “post-his friends” or something similar shows that he is using newtmas as a hook on purpose. not only that, but to make newt’s last thoughts as he died “tommy. tommy will understand...” is...wow. first of all, i never wanted to know what newt’s dying thoughts were, but thanks, i guess? and second, when we all initially thought newt died underneath thomas with a gun to his head, i was pretty much inferred that newts last thoughts would probably be about thomas; they would sort of have to be, given the circumstances. so adding that in gives me the same feeling that “i’m coming for you, newt” at the end of the fever code gave me. not as offensive, but written very much on purpose. and the ending is implying that there will somehow be a sequel where thomas gets newt’s journal from...someone. at this point, i can only think that this sequel will retroactively make newtmas canon somehow. now that newt has been confirmed as gay, it could happen. which brings me to my last point...

7. hearing dashner confirm newt is gay was already mind-boggling before. now that i’ve read the crank palace...im angry. im very angry. i think its safe to say that newt is the character that suffers the most in this series. you can argue with me but hes definitely high on the list, if not #1. so; you take this character. you give him a horribly sad arc in the original trilogy, then decide to expand upon it and tell us, your largely QUEER fanbase, exactly how painful and torturous his last days were, in detail. and then you tell us he’s gay. something that is never mentioned in the canon, only in an offhanded reply to a tweet of someone calling you out. on a base level, i can understand why people would be happy. representation (i guess), seeing themselves in the character, having their headcanons be confirmed. great. but what i see is you telling your largely queer fanbase “hey, you see the only confirmed gay character? im going to literally write torture porn about him before killing him off and offer it to you like im providing a service to your community.” how fucked up is that? “hey, kids, if youre gay, you WILL be violently tortured and become violent and a danger to the ones you love. then you will die and your love will never be reciprocated.” what a message! and if he DOES end up retroactively making newtmas “canon” in some weird sequel...i will start foaming at the mouth. THIS is an example of how not all queer representation is good or genuine.

i’ve definitely forgotten some points but this is long enough already. let me know if you agree or if theres anything else you want to add! im interested in what you guys think

(8. I JUST REMEMBERED!!! if WCKD needed to study newt so bad bc sonya is his sister and is immune while he isnt, why did they let him run around the crank palace in the first place??? you cant test his vitals or anything you’re literally just watching him. what is the point????)

[the-small-one-to-rule-them-all]

Two Worlds Collide - Ch. 5

Chapter 5- To Save a Prince

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5 (you are here)

summary: Roman’s situation gets worse and Logan does all he can to help.

pairing: romantic Logince 

word count: 3,496

warnings: mild injury mention, screaming, blood mention, parental abuse, knife mention, crying, vague drowning mention, death mention, unintentional deadnaming, self-deprecation, mention of parental abandonment, medicine, please, please, please tell me if there is something that I missed.

a/n: This is it guys, the last chapter. I urge you to please please heed the warnings. If something on the list is hard for you and you would still like to read the fic, I would be happy to give you a paragraph to skip to and sum up what happens in a way that keeps you safe. Thank you to everyone who has read. Thank you for sticking with me. I hope you have enjoyed this story as much as I have. Now, let’s get into it. 

 It has been about a week since Roman let Logan finish healing his back. Logan has enjoyed getting to know Roman better and learn about him and the human world. He loves how Roman’s face lights up when he tells a story or talks about something he’s passionate about. He hopes that he gets to see that again today.

He is definitely shocked when Roman does actually arrive. Logan gasps when he sees him stumble into the cove limping and bruised, “Oh my goodness, Roman, are you okay?”

Roman ignores him as he kneels down close in front of Logan. He is breathing heavily but manages to ask, “Dee, can you ask Dee if my mom and brother are alive?”

Logan frowns, “Yes. I’ve told you that before but I don't understand how that is relevant to-”

Roman ignores him,“Would... would you ask him if he knows how they are, if they're still alive, like right now?”

“You want me to go ask him now? Why?” Logan asks. He knows that he could swim there since he’s almost completely healed, but the prince seems to be in pretty bad shape.

Roman’s jaw trembles, “I need to know if they’re alive.”

Logan frowns at him, not quite believing him “Okay, I'll go ask. It should only take maybe an hour to get there talk to him and get back. Will you be okay to wait here?”

Roman’s breathing slows as he scoots back and relaxes against the wall of the cove, “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

 When Logan returns less than an hour later, he is startled to hear screaming coming from inside the cave. His first thought goes to Roman and he can only hope the prince hasn't hurt himself. He sneaks in. He only barely manages to hold back a gasp as he sees a man he can only imagine to be Roman's father bent over Roman, holding a knife. Logan begins to panic. Roman is screaming. He is bleeding. Roman falls to the floor. The man raises the knife. Roman doesn’t raise an arm to defend himself. Logan becomes frantic. The man swings. Logan lurches himself out of the water and screams. A terrifying scream meant only to be heard in the depths of the ocean.

The man drops the knife in shock. He screams in terror upon seeing Logan, “A siren! Run for your life!” He leaves quickly and Logan breathes a sigh of relief.

Logan rushes to Roman's side, “Roman, Ro, He’s gone. You’re safe. Are you okay?”

Roman groans and stares wide eyed at Logan. He latches on to one of Logan’s arms, and starts to cry, “Please, please Lo, take me to the dragon! I can't stay here! I can't go back! He’s gonna kill me!”

Logan runs his free hand through Roman’s hair doing his best to soothe him. He then places a hand on Roman’s gently pulling him off of him and nods, “Okay, I’ll take you to Dee, but at least let me help heal you a little bit first.”

Roman takes a few seconds to respond, looking around as if expecting something to pop up out of the shadows. After a moment he seems satisfied. He nods laying in submission, still crying as Logan kisses the cuts and bruises on his hands and arms.

Logan carefully looks him over, making sure he isn't bleeding anywhere. When he is satisfied that Roman seems to be okay, he finds that he releases a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

He runs a hand through Roman’s hair, “I can take you to Dee, but you’re going to have to swim. Can you do that now or should I heal some more things so you can get there?”

Roman sits up and clings to Logan. Between hiccuping breaths he insists, “It doesn’t matter just get me out of here! Take me to Dee, please. I don't care if my family is there or not just please get me away from him.” 

Logan holds Roman firmly and runs a calming hand over his back, “Shh. I will take you. Don't worry. But for right now I need you to calm your breathing so you don't hurt yourself swimming. Please, just try to relax as much as you can. We can stay here awhile, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Roman whimpers holding only tighter to the merman. And it takes some time, but Roman melts into Logan’s soothing touches and his breathing calms.

Roman slowly releases Logan from his grasp, “Okay, i'm... I feel ready now.”

“Are you sure there is nothing left you want me to heal?”

Roman considers it for no more than a second, “No, i’ll be okay.”

Logan nods, “Well then follow me okay, it isn't that far.”

Roman kicks off his shoes, knowing they will weigh him down, and follows Logan into the sea trusting him to guide him to safety.

They swim for a while, and make good time Logan being sure to set a pace the prince can keep up with. However, soon Roman feels his adrenaline wearing off and he swears under his breath as he feels his strength quickly leaving him. “Logan! Logan wait!”

Logan turns around, holding Roman up as he treads water for them, “What is it?”

Roman sighs and looks away, “I’m sorry but I can't go any farther, I.. I can't do it.”

Logan points not twenty feet away, “See that cave over there? That's where we’re going. Are you sure you can't make it?”

Roman looks from the cave to logan and back and nods, “I can't go any further, I... I can't. Everything hurts so much, I can barely move. If you weren’t holding me up I... i’d be under the waves.”

Logan frowns, “Wrap your arm around my shoulders. We will make it together, okay?”

Roman throws his arm over Logan’s shoulders with a grunt and holds tightly. Slowly they make their way to the cave. When they get close enough, Roman crawls up the beach a little before collapsing. 

Logan joins him on the beach and calls for the dragon, “Dee, Dee! It’s Logan again! I’ve brought the Prince! He is hurt, please help!”

Roman shrinks into himself when he feels the thudding of the dragon coming to the mouth of the cave shake the ground.

“What is your name, prince?” the dragon asks.

Roman gulps, “I... I'm Roman. Please, help me. My father, he... I can't go back. ”

“You are safe here,” Dee says.

Roman sighs, thankful.

Dee nods, “Your family is here to see you.”

Roman barely has the strength to sit up on his arms to see his mother and brother rushing towards him.

“Regina!” his mother cries as she runs to wrap her arms around him.

Roman grimaces in pain as she hugs him tight, “It’s Roman now.”

His mom smiles letting go, “Oh, how wonderful! I'm glad you have finally joined us, Roman.”

Roman turns to his brother, “Virgil! It’s great to see you again!”

Virgil gently hugs him, “It took you long enough to get here. We’re excited to have you come live with us.” 

Roman chuckles, “I'm so happy you’re alive. I had thought I would never see you again, I thought you were gone.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, it’s just what dad always told me.”

Pat runs a hand through Roman’s hair with a frown, “Well now you’ll never have to deal with that horrible man again.”

Roman sighs, relief washing over him as the reality of everything that has happened sets in. Then he turns to Logan, “Will I ever see you again?”

Logan frowns, “Truthfully, I don't know. I hope so, but I don't know where I'm going to end up. I... I learned recently that at home the whole kingdom thinks I'm dead, not that I would want to go back anyway.”

Roman frowns, “Wait, how would the whole kingdom notice that you're dead?”

“It... uh...” Logan  mutters gaping at Roman.

Roman doesnt think that’s a good answer, “Were you really popular or something or are you exaggerating? Because if you, Logan the literal is exaggerating, then something is either really wrong or you’re lying.”

Logan looks down and grimaces, “I... I would say nothing is wrong but that isn’t true. But I wasn't exaggerating either.” Logan takes a deep breath and steels himself, “I was the prince back home. That’s why they all think I'm dead.”

Roman’s jaw drops. 

Logan sighs, “I can't go back now, I don’t even want to. It’s why I never told you how I actually ended up in that cove, but you deserve to know the truth.” Logan stops and collects himself, grief and shame evident on his face, “I got washed up on the beach during the storm while stargazing, but I wasn't just stargazing for fun. My... my parents were the ones that hurt me. They... they broke my fin and cut my tail. I swam to the surface because I wanted to see the stars before I... before I died. When I got to the surface I realised the stars were hidden and panicked and then I hit my head on a barrel and woke up on the beach.”

Roman doesn’t know what to say, “Oh my god Lo. I... i'm sorry.”

“Don't be, I just don't know where i'm going to go now.”

Without thinking Roman says, “Come with us!”

Logan sighs, “I can't. I can't get out of the water.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

Roman frowns at him, “That's not a real reason Logan and you know it!” He says pointing at Logan aggressively.

Logan throws up his hands, “Fine, you wanna see why, I'll show you why!” Logan yells. In a sad, desperate rage he pulls himself out of the water. 

Roman stares at Logan as he writhes on the sand. He groans and gasps in pain as his tail shrinks and separates and his fins and scales shrink and disappear until... until he is human. Roman gasps looking him over. His legs are all bent and shrunk. He realises that Logan couldn't use his legs if he wanted to. Logan won’t meet Roman’s eyes. Roman hardly thinks he would be able to see him through the tears. 

Logan shakes his head, “I can't follow you! I doubt you want me to now anyway, but I get it. I have never been wanted by any one! Not my human parents who threw me into the ocean for being born, not my mer-parents who hated me for not being fully one of them, no one. It's no surprise though, who wants to hang out with someone who is so ugly and different from them? Who wants a friend who doesnt fit in anywhere? No one that’s who.”

Roman pulls himself from his mom's arms and drags himself over to Logan, “That's not true!” he insists.

Logan looks at him sadly, tears still falling, “Please don't make this any harder than it has to be. I can't navigate the human world. I might just go join a different merkingdom. I... it can't be that hard to get a job, I hope.”

Roman cuts him off, he brushes a lock of hair off of Logan’s face and scoots in close.

Logan gasps, not pulling away.

Slowly, Roman leans in pressing a kiss to Logan's lips. Roman pours everything he has into that kiss, love, hope, pain, trying desperately to have Logan understand. 

They break apart and Logan sighs, “Roman, I can't... I... I can't walk.”

Roman sits up and shakes his head, “You don't have to walk. I want you by my side. And if that’s what you want too then we will figure this out. I will carry you myself if I have to!” Roman declares. In his passion he pushes himself to his feet, and immediately sways and falls. 

Virgil catches him with ready hands, looking him over, “He’s okay. Looks like he just fainted.”

As Virgil adjusts his grip on Roman so he can carry him best, Roman’s mom approaches Logan, “Hello Logan, i'm Pat, Roman's mother.”

Logan smiles, “Nice to meet you. I'm thankful to have had the pleasure to get to know your son.”

Pat smiles, “Me too. You two certainly do care for each other. I hope you get to spend a long time together, if that’s what you want of course!” she says.

“What?” Logan stares at her in confusion. 

Pat laughs, “Well if he can't carry you, one of us can!”

Logan smiles, “You would do that?”

“Of course!”

“I... Thank you.”

 Roman groans as he wakes up. His mind is foggy. Where is he? What happened... is that Virgil? Oh. Suddenly Roman remembered what had happened the night before.

“Where are we?” Roman asks, looking around the room. 

“Hey Ro, i'm glad to see you’re awake!” Virgil says with a smile. “We’re in Dee’s cave system. He doesn’t really use most of it so he lets us live here.”

Roman groans “Okay. I guess im glad im awake, but at what cost?”

“Are you okay?”

“Everything hurts.” He wines, “My head, my fingers, and all of my toes, even muscles I didn't know I had! Everything. Hurts. I think i'm dying.” 

Virgil frowns, “I’ll get you some more pain killers. You can’t be dying too badly if you’re still able to be this dramatic.” As he walks over to the counter looking for the medicine he chuckles, “You know, it’s kinda cute, but also a bit weird, Logan has been insisting that he has to ‘kiss the bruises better’ but this should work a bit better than that.”.

Roman blinks at him, “It... it actually works, you know.” 

“What?”

Roman sighs, “Healing through kisses, it works. I know it sounds like something out of one of my crazy stories but it does. I know it does. He has healed me before.”

Virgil nods, “Oh, well okay then. I still want you to take the pain killer.”

Roman grunts and lifts his head as Virgil feeds him his dose of the bad tasting liquid.

Roman must've pulled quite the face because Virgil chuckled, “I bet you probably like Logan’s kisses more than that.”

Roman sighs and changes the subject, “Is Logan okay?”

VIrgil nods, “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s actually probably going to come in from finishing lunch any minute.”

Roman smiles. Then he suddenly remembers, “Did... oh gosh, did I actually kiss him, basically say I was going to save him and immediately faint?”

Virgil chuckles again, “Yes you did. it was quite funny actually”

Roman groans, he would throw his arm over his face if he knew it wouldn’t hurt too bad, “God he probably hates me.”

Virgil shakes his head with a scoff, “No, he’s been asking to see you. You must've made quite the impression on him, the little lovebird. We have only been able to get him to leave your side to eat and sleep, it’s so cute it’s almost disgusting. He will probably be upset he wasn't here when you woke up. I’ll go get him and let you two talk.”

“Don't call him disgusting.” Roman pouts as Virgil stands to leave.

“Fine. I won't.” He gets halfway out the door before turning around to say, “Make sure to lock the door when you let your boyfriend kiss you all better.”

Roman shakes his head as Virgil disappears through the doorway. Shortly after Logan comes in, he’s using a wheelchair

Logan smiles wide upon seeing Roman awake, “You’re awake! Oh thank goodness. Are you okay?” he asks approaching Roman.

Roman hums, “I'm really sore, and hungry, but otherwise I'm okay.”

Logan visibly relaxes, “Good good, i'm glad.”

“Yes, me too.”

There are a few moments of uncomfortable silence, “So, uh, I like the chair.” Roman comments.

Logan nods, running his hands over the arm rests, “Yes, it’s a rather ingenious invention, isn't it?”

“Yeah!” Roman nods.

After a moment Roman looks at Logan and says,  “Umm, I don't mean to be rude but uh.... you’re human?

Logan chuckles, “Yes, but also no. It... it’s complicated.

“I’m in so much pain I can't move, I got the time.”

“I thought you said you’re okay!?” Logan scolds him.

“Don't change the subject Lo, that’s my move.”

Logan sighs, “Fine, I suppose it wouldn’t be too hard to tell you.”

Roman smiles.

“But no interrupting okay?” 

He nods.

“Good,” Logan takes a deep breath and stares off at a bit of wall, “So I was born a human to a human family, I was just as crippled then as I am now. I don't know what made them get rid of me, if I was too broken, if they didn't think they could give me a good enough life, if they were disgusted with me, I really do not know. I can’t. But, for whatever reason, they decided they didn't want me, so they threw me into the ocean. ir was there that my parents, the mermaid ones that is, found me floating in the ocean. They took pity on me. They wrapped me in a bubble of air and brought me to a sea witch. She made me a merman, but the magic only lasts as long as I am in the ocean, as soon as I leave the water completely I change back to,” He gestured to himself, “this.”

Roman smiles,“Well, I kinda like you like this, it means you can follow me here.”

Logan smiles.

They are silent again for a moment.

 “So umm, about the other day...” Logan says.

Roman blinks, “Hmm?”

Logan flushes, or at least Roman thinks he does, “You kissed me.”

Roman tries not to panic, “Oh, uh, Yup... that happened. sorry.”

Logan smirks and shakes his head, “No, don't apologize. I was just wondering, did you just kiss me because you were over-exhausted and potentially not thinking correctly or would you actually be unopposed if I were to kiss you?”

“Are... are you saying... you want to kiss me?” Roman asks carefully.

Logan crosses his arms and looks away, “I am not saying until you give me an answer.”

Roman smiles, “I kissed you because while my tired brain was spinning I realised that... I like you Logan, romantically. I think I have for a while. You have changed my life for the better, i'm so much happier with you in my life. I’ve learned so much from you.”

Roman sighs fondly, “I think I fell in love with you early on. I love the way your face lights up when you talk about the stars because I swear your smile is brighter than all of them. I love how you are so sure of what you know. I fell in love with the way you try to act all serious when we banter. I especially love when I catch you smiling in the middle of a comeback or after I call you a nickname. You have kept me honest when I was determined not to be. You care about me and about others. Lo, I would call you my starlight but if i'm being honest, you are my world.”

Logan smiles wide. “I.. you... that’s... good... I uh...” He stammers for a moment before finding his words, color rising to his cheeks with every passing moment, “Roman, to say you have changed my life is an understatement. Your willingness and eagerness to help me when you had every right and every reason to walk away... it overwhelmed me at first. I honestly didn't think I deserved it, but little by little you have shown me how I do, and I thank you for that.

“Your caring nature and desire not only to help people, but to make their day a little better in any way you can is inspiring. Learning from you and hearing you tell me stories just because you liked seeing me smile, in a time where everyone had rejected me so far meant- means so much to me. I was hesitant to believe it at first, but I know now, I have feelings for you too. You kept me alive these past few weeks, for that I would call you my sunshine, but I would much prefer to have you be my world.”

Now Roman is the one blushing, “Oh.”

Logan chuckles and scoots a bit closer to the bed situating himself to face Roman better. “May I be so bold as to kiss you?”

Roman’s face flushes bright red, reaching his ears as he smiles, “I... uh, yes, please.”

Logan smiles and leans down and Roman lifts his head to meet him. It wasn't the most comfortable position for a kiss for either of them, but they didn't care. They had come to realise they were one another’s world. And in that moment, as their lips met, their worlds collided and they became something more beautiful than either of them had dreamed.

[hillburn42-blog]

21 modern poems that make swoon-worthy wedding readings

Litany By Billy Collins print from Graphic Display

Finding the right wedding readings for your ceremony can be a bear if you don't know where to look. This is especially so if you're diverting from traditional and/or religious readings and want something more modern, secular, funny, or all of the above. I wanted to see what was cooking in modern poetry to see if there were some new poems that would make amazing wedding readings that we hadn't seen before. Spoiler alert: there were! Some are secular, some are funny, some are a little older, but all are lovely options that may just be the one that pulls at your heartstrings.

Here are some poignant and modern wedding readings from poetry to snag for your ceremony.

Hit up our full archive of ceremony readings for even more inspiration!

You are the bread and the knife, the crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass and the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker, and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard, the plums on the counter, or the house of cards. And you are certainly not the pine-scented air. There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge, maybe even the pigeon on the general's head, but you are not even close to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show that you are neither the boots in the corner nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know, speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world, that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star, the evening paper blowing down an alley and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees and the blind woman's tea cup. But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife. You are still the bread and the knife. You will always be the bread and the knife, not to mention the crystal goblet and — somehow — the wine.

Love means to learn to look at yourself The way one looks at distant things For you are only one thing among many. And whoever sees that way heals his heart, Without knowing it, from various ills A bird and a tree say to him: Friend. Then he wants to use himself and things So that they stand in the glow of ripeness. It doesnt matter whether he knows what he serves: Who serves best doesnt always understand.

Do not think I am not grateful for your small kindness to me.

I like small kindnesses.

In fact I actually prefer them to the more substantial kindness, that is always eyeing you,

like a large animal on a rug, until your whole life reduces

to nothing but waking up morning after morning cramped, and the bright sun shining on its tusks.

I lie here thinking of you:—

the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves, smears with saffron the horned branches that lean heavily against a smooth purple sky! There is no light only a honey-thick stain that drips from leaf to leaf and limb to limb spoiling the colors of the whole world—

you far off there under the wine-red selvage of the west!

Don't lock me in wedlock, I want marriage, an encounter—

I told you about the green light of May

(a veil of quiet befallen the downtown park, late

Saturday after noon, long shadows and cool

air, scent of new grass, fresh leaves,

blossom on the threshold of abundance—

and the birds I met there, birds of passage breaking their journey, three birds each of a different species:

the azalea-breasted with round poll, dark, the brindled, merry, mousegliding one, and the smallest, golden as gorse and wearing a black Venetian mask

and with them the three douce hen-birds feathered in tender, lively brown—

I stood a half-hour under the enchantment, no-one passed near, the birds saw me and

let me be near them.)

It's not irrelevant: I would be met

and meet you so, in a green

airy space, not locked in.

"Having a Coke with You" by Frank O'Hara

is even more fun than going to San Sebastian, Irún, Hendaye, Biarritz, Bayonne or being sick to my stomach on the Travesera de Gracia in Barcelona partly because in your orange shirt you look like a better happier St. Sebastian partly because of my love for you, partly because of your love for yoghurt partly because of the fluoresent orange tulips around the birches partly because of the secrecy our smiles take on before people and statuary it is hard to believe when I'm with you that there can be anything as still as solemn as unpleasantly definitive as statuary when right in front of it in the warm New York 4 o'clock light we are drifting back and forth between each other like a tree breathing through its spectacles

and the portrait show seems to have no faces in it at all, just paint you suddenly wonder why in the world anyone ever did them

I look at you and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world except possibly for the Polish Rider occasionally and anyway it's in the Frick which thank heavens you haven't gone to yet so we can go together the first time and the fact that you move so beautifully more or less takes care of Futurism just as at home I never think of the Nude Descending a Staircase or at a rehearsal a single drawing of Leonardo or Michelangelo that used to wow me and what good does all the research of the Impressionists do them when they never got the right person to stand near the tree when the sun sank or for that matter Marino Marini when he didn't pick the rider as carefully as the horse it seems they were all cheated of some marvellous experience which is not going to go wasted on me which is why I am telling you about it

Margaret Atwood poem 'Habitation' in hand-written calligraphy from Paint And Words

Marriage is not a house, or even a tent

It is before that, and colder:

the edge of the forest, the edge of the desert the unpainted stairs at the back, where we squat outdoors, eating popcorn where painfully and with wonder at having survived this far

we are learning to make fire.

"Why Marriage?" by Mari Nichols-Haining

Because to the depths of me, I long to love one person, With all my heart, my soul, my mind, my body…

Because I need a forever friend to trust with the intimacies of me, Who won’t hold them against me, Who loves me when I’m unlikable, Who sees the small child in me, and Who looks for the divine potential of me…

Because I need to cuddle in the warmth of the night With someone who thanks God for me, With someone I feel blessed to hold…

Because marriage means opportunity To grow in love in friendship…

Because marriage is a discipline To be added to a list of achievements…

Because marriages do not fail, people fail When they enter into marriage Expecting another to make them whole…

Because, knowing this, I promise myself to take full responsibility For my spiritual, mental and physical wholeness I create me, I take half of the responsibility for my marriage Together we create our marriage…

Because with this understanding The possibilities are limitless.

Here on an autumn night in the sweet orchard smell, Sitting in a pile of leaves under the starry sky, Oh what stories we could tell With this starlight to tell them by.

October night, and you, and paradise, So lovely and so full of grace, Above your head, the universe has hung its lights, And I reach out my hand to touch your face.

I believe in impulse, in all that is green, Believe in the foolish vision that comes true, Believe that all that is essential is unseen, And for this lifetime I believe in you.

All of the lovers and the love they made: Nothing that was between them was a mistake. All that we did for love's sake, Is not wasted and will never fade.

All who have loved shall be forever young And walk in grandeur on a cool fall night Along the avenue, They live in every song that is ever sung, In every painting of pure light, In every pas de deux.

Oh love that shines in every star And love reflected in the silver moon. It is not here, but it's not far. Not yet, but it will be here soon.

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you. Don't go back to sleep. You must ask for what you really want. Don't go back to sleep. People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch. The door is round and open. Don't go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you. The price of kissing is your life. Now my loving is running toward my life shouting, What a bargain, let's buy it.

Daylight, full of small dancing particles and the one great turning, our souls are dancing with you, without feet, they dance. Can you see them when I whisper in your ear?

All day and night, music, a quiet, bright reedsong. If it fades, we fade.

If you want to marry me, here's what you'll have to do: You must learn how to make a perfect chicken-dumpling stew. And you must sew my holey socks, And soothe my troubled mind, And develop the knack for scratching my back, And keep my shoes spotlessly shined. And while I rest you must rake up the leaves, And when it is hailing and snowing You must shovel the walk…and be still when I talk, And — hey — where are you going?

You are your own forerunner, and the towers you have builded are but the foundation of your giant-self. And that self too shall be a foundation.

And I too am my own forerunner, for the long shadow stretching before me at sunrise shall gather under my feet at the noon hour. Yet another sunrise shall lay another shadow before me, and that also shall be gathered at another noon.

Always have we been our own forerunners, and always shall we be. And all that we have gathered and shall gather shall be but seeds for fields yet unploughed. We are the fields and the ploughmen, the gatherers and the gathered.

When you were a wandering desire in the mist, I too was there, a wandering desire. Then we sought one another, and out of our eagerness dreams were born. And dreams were time limitless, and dreams were space without measure.

And when you were a silent word upon life's quivering lips, I too was there, another silent word. Then life uttered us and we came down the years throbbing with memories of yesterday and with longing for tomorrow, for yesterday was death conquered and tomorrow was birth pursued.

And now we are in God's hands. You are a sun in His right hand and I an earth in His left hand. Yet you are not more, shining, than I, shone upon.

And we, sun and earth, are but the beginning of a greater sun and a greater earth. And always shall we be the beginning.

You are your own forerunner, you the stranger passing by the gate of my garden. And I too am my own forerunner, though I sit in the shadows of my trees and seem motionless.

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting — over and over announcing your place in the family of things.

From time to time our love is like a sail and when the sail begins to alternate from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail and when the swallow flies it’s like a coat; and if the coat is yours, it has a tear like a wide mouth and when the mouth begins to draw the wind, it’s like a trumpeter and when the trumpet blows, it blows like millions…. and this, my love, when millions come and go beyond the need of us, is like a trick; and when the trick begins, it’s like a toe tip-toeing on a rope, which is like luck; and when the luck begins, it’s like a wedding, which is like love, which is like everything.

"Today" from Nine Horses by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect, so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary’s cage, indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out, holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white, well, today is just that kind of day.

Pablo Neruda Quote from Monday Moon Design

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way

than this: Where “I” does not exist, nor “You”, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.

"somewhere I have never travelled" by e.e. cummings

somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing

(I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Maya Angelou Poem print from Minimaland

"Touched by an Angel" by Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple and comes into our sight to liberate us into life.

Love arrives and in its train come ecstasies old memories of pleasure ancient histories of pain. Yet if we are bold, love strikes away the chains of fear from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity In the flush of love’s light we dare be brave And suddenly we see that love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free.

let me be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust let me be your ford cortina I will never rust if you like your coffee hot let me be your coffee pot you call the shots I wanna be yours

let me be your raincoat for those frequent rainy days let me be your dreamboat when you wanna sail away let me be your teddy bear take me with you anywhere I don’t care I wanna be yours

let me be your electric meter I will not run out let me be the electric heater you get cold without let me be your setting lotion hold your hair with deep devotion deep as the deep atlantic ocean thats how deep is my emotion deep deep deep deep deep deep I don’t wanna be hers I wanna be yours

"In Love Made Visible" by May Swenson

In love we are made visible As in a magic bath are unpeeled to the sharp pit so long concealed

With love’s alertness we recognize the soundless whimper of the soul behind the eyes A shaft opens and the timid thing at last leaps to surface with full-spread wing

The fingertips of lover discover more than the body’s smoothness They uncover a hidden conduit for the transfusion of empathies that circumvent the mind’s intrusion

In love are we set free Objective bone and flesh no longer insulate us to ourselves alone We are released and flow into each other’s cup Our two frail vials pierced drink each other up.

Roy Croft print by Betty And Marie Designs

I love you, Not only for what you are But for what I am When I am with you.

I love you, Not only for what You have made of yourself But for what You are making of me.

I love you, For the part of me That you bring out; I love you, For putting your hand Into my heaped-up heart And passing over All the foolish, weak things That you can’t help Dimly seeing there, And for drawing out Into the light All the beautiful belongings That no one else had looked Quite far enough to find.

I love you because you Are helping me to make of the lumber of my life Not a tavern But a temple; Out of works Of my every day Not a reproach But a song.

Source: https://offbeatbride.com/modern-wedding-readings/