Storyteller // at the end of my life, I want chapters filled with great stories and even greater people // learning to live again
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youadans-reverie · 6 months ago
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I’m learning to fold my heart into grief paper planes, to let loose the ache and watch it nose dive.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 8 months ago
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And the answer to most things, I believe, is love.
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youadans-reverie · 8 months ago
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I will spend my life talking to God about you. And if after death, I am not allowed to take my memories of you with me, I will talk to Him about an ache lodged between my ribs, a loss that clings to my heartbeat and He will know. Even in death, you will decorate my heart.
youadan teddy // a love letter to my friends
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youadans-reverie · 9 months ago
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Human teeth are the only part of the body that cannot heal themselves.
And I’ve seen it,
How my heart repairs itself on a random Thursday
in April. I catch myself dancing after I swore
I’d never hear music again.
And the scabs on my wrist make me a promise.
To come again.
And again.
And I’ve seen it,
How I lost you and still found a version of joy I can live with.
But my smile,
My smile hasn’t been the same.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 9 months ago
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There'll be a moment when you realise you're 27 when yesterday you were just 17; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into before and afters. The fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. Scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore, hangouts will become reunions and mom's burnt pie will become the best food you ever had. And I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow is 37.
Edit- I added the visualizer for this piece on my YT, check it out here
-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned
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youadans-reverie · 9 months ago
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And while you wait for courage- rewrite the
blueprint, rehearse your life- the sun will set.
While you wait four courage,
you miss out on a life
that needed only to be lived-
with unsteady hands
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 9 months ago
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And one day you will write about the birds. But now, right now, there's an ache that wants to be named. You will never name it.
Instead, you learn to bear it. With your naked knees kissing cement, bleeding. You tie it around your ankle and drag your feet across your bedroom floor, even if it kills you (it will not kill you). When your stomach stirs from the grief you buried years ago, you will heave out the filth. You'll make room for your heart again.
And you will write about the birds. They will not be caged.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 10 months ago
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youadans-reverie · 10 months ago
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My heart splits open because I refuse to let go of what breaks me
youadan teddy // “hey siri, google how to let go”
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youadans-reverie · 11 months ago
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You can’t divide a number by zero
This is to say, there’s nothing that can split your heart permanently.
An undefined heart is still a heart that hasn’t stopped beating.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 11 months ago
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teenage me and current me are both depressed directionless girls, the only difference is that current me started appreciating the beauty of the world and realized how good it is to be alive despite it all
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youadans-reverie · 11 months ago
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My mother believes the opposite of love is the way my father stopped heating her car every morning in the middle of December.
youadan teddy // winter has a way of freezing our hearts
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youadans-reverie · 1 year ago
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I’m learning how to hold forgiveness, to be less weary of her sharp edges.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 1 year ago
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Sometimes, it’s easier to seek out hurt than it is joy.
Sometimes, the only home you know is made of bricks and an ache you can’t name.
youadan teddy
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youadans-reverie · 1 year ago
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“Old wounds resurfaced last night and they continue to plague me. But I refuse to speak of the grief I harbor in my heart. Loneliness is a disease I choose. Who can I blame for this illness but myself?���
youadan teddy // diary entry #56
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youadans-reverie · 1 year ago
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youadans-reverie · 1 year ago
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@youadans-reverie
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