it hurts to become.
i hope something wonderful happens to you every day that you’re 24.
-98701 asked: your writing always brings me to the edge of tears, for how heartfelt and beautiful it is. even when it's about something i think i've never felt before, it is as if i have. you're brilliant, thought you should know.
thank you thank you thank you.
-the living room was very long, very white, and filled with too many couches. the top floor didn’t match up to what i would have pictured a normal two-story home looking like in waking life. i remember looking out a small window at a dark busy beachfront with narrow streets and hardly any room for one person let alone a crowd. it was a scene i’ve seen before, but in widescreen, and distorted by emotion rather than unnavigable and scattered memories. i walked downstairs to find my father sitting uncomfortably amongst a group of strangers i took to be the parents of my brother’s friends. vicky was there, telling me to come upstairs and look at something. there were too many children in the room for her to show me so we walked toward a vent in the wall. she climbed in, and i followed. we came upon a snowy clearing, to which she smiled. i felt uncertain the whole time.
-all i want this summer is for someone to love me more.
-i think we were in my old bedroom, i was lying on the floor with my feet on the bed watching mad men on christmas eve. my brother was on the phone. i went downstairs to get water and noticed my dad was still awake, so i sat and watched the news with him. this is what happened, throughout the course of my dream: president obama died, a subway was bombed in new york, the entire power grid failed.
you were my first call. i calculated the distances between all the subways and your apartment. you sit right on top of the crosstown. i don’t remember speaking to you at all or if i even finished dialing your number. i guess it doesn’t matter. i’m as good as dead to you anyway.
you’ve been in almost all of my dreams since we met, but only lately have you become the star of my nightmares, your face waking me in the middle of the dark, memories flooding through the cracks in my blankets as cold air meets bare skin.
you never die, not in any of them.
-today felt like a big gulp of cold water.
-Remember on the bus and my hand was on your knee;
When you love somebody it’s hard to think about anything but to breathe.
I am the cub who was washed out in the flood;
When you love somebody and bite your tongue all you get is a mouthful of blood.
i feel like i am surrounded by people who have been dealt an easy hand, which leaves me feeling overshadowed and embarrassed. too deep in the hole to even make a list of the positive just to forget the negative. last year was the same. i thought getting out of a house would make things easier, would curb the depression and the anxiety that crept around every corner of my too-cramped room. something always goes wrong. there’s always a debt to be repaid.
it’ll be years, at this point, until i stop feeling so stagnate. even things with you are dull and boring now, and i wonder if you feel it, too. i’m nothing going nowhere. i can write and write until dawn and dusk as much and as often as i want, but life isn’t that easy. i’m on a different page than everyone i know, and i’ve never felt so out of touch with myself.
i guess it’s that time of year that always reminds me of how remarkable it is: the shambles i’ve made with my own two hands, and the inevitable, forceful blow to the gut i get before every summer.
i can’t say sorry enough.
-that was just your way of saying it, you know? that’s just your way of saying i love you.
-(Source: the-final-sentence)
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