Late Night Reminder To Self: Your Depressive Episode Will Not Last Forever. It Will Have An End. Tonight

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I cannot explain it any clearer. I love my friends. There is no more to say.

steam sale:

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The most life changing indie game you've ever seen, usually $4.99, now on sale for $0.45

your dash has been BATFLIED

reblog to batfly other dashes

do you accept ominous pinafore dresses?

Official ominous pinafore dress

kinda fucked up that im not a tv show character or like a 14 year old's oc Because i would've been really really good at that

let's get burgers 45 "job hunt"

Some mental wellness Talking Heads

Now consider: a man in a dress. Not in drag or all dressed up or anything. No accessories, no makeup or styling, just wearing the dress, some ratty boxers and muddy sneakers. No socks or stockings, hairy legs in the open air, just raw dogging those nasty shoes. Hair mildly damp. Visibly sleep-deprived. Bruises on shoulders, elbows and knees, left palm bleeding. Sitting on a curb on the street, shivering, looking wretched, and absolutely miserable.

I forgot where I was going with this.