And If I Had To, I Would Wrench Your Heart Out With My Bare Hands And Hold It With A Grace And Gentleness

you think i’m weak? babygirl i can listen to julien baker’s entire discography without even shedding a tear.

maybe if you had been made right, you would be better at being alone. if you'd assembled yourself out of the particulate, coagulating into amber and diamond - you'd be lovely and desirable. instead of pewter and hungry and anxious.

when she doesn't text you back, you should be normal about that. you should shrug and move on and get back to your beautiful life and your wonderful dog. when you wake up shaking, don't call her, don't beg for her attendance. if someone says i love you, aren't you supposed to feel warm and held and gentle. what is wrong with you that your first instinct is to reject: no, you don't, not really.

what is wrong with you. asking for help from your friends and loved ones is supposed to be a moment of connection and vulnerability. instead you spend hours preparing and weeks recovering. you've done all the reading and you know you are supposed to accept-love-as-it-is presented.

but still the internal questions, litany of the prey animal. do you still love me. am i still attractive. do you care about my interests. am i boring you. are you becoming distant. are you going to leave me. do you like me or are you just managing. am i telling you too much. am i bothering you. do you want me there. am i embarrassing you.

the problem is that your prayers have been right before. you loved someone and they hurt you and now the words sluice against the floorboards no matter how tightly you lock the door. you go to therapy and try to trust and try to be kind and try to assume the best. that everyone is honest and loyal. that you can be happy and alone and miss her but still feel easy, at-home.

it feels like waving a flag in front of a sinking ship. you hold up the scripture and research, preaching: i can do this. i am not going to let my insecurities and fears ruin another relationship.

all of the drowning passengers have your face. they try to say i told you so. i told you this is what ends up happening. their voices are swallowed by the water and the deep below.

20160103 - The Lovers.

i cant talk to anyone about how horror and romance are inherently intertwined. you guys get it though.

I wanted the past to go away, I wanted to leave it, like another country; I wanted my life to close, and open like a hinge, like a wing, like the part of the song where it falls down over the rocks: an explosion, a discovery; I wanted to hurry into the work of my life; I wanted to know, whoever I was, I was alive for a little while.

Mary Oliver, "Dogfish" in New and Selected Poems

i am so hungry right now that i could stab a roman emperor and eat a salad made out of his remains

i care (or do i?)

i wrote something about the burden of concern and care, and how it'll never be enough, and it'll never compare to that one completely perfect person that is always haunting your actions. enjoy.

are u okay you’ve been listening to chinese satellite by phoebe bridgers for two hours straight

seeing percy struggle in the live action with constant thoughts of that there’s something wrong with him, that he’s broken, because things never go his way JUST HIT SO HARD. esp as that’s how my life has been continuously and i think that is such a big deal for me. and it may be the percy adhd thing but. it just kicked me in the guts.

do you think humans heard crowley calling aziraphale ‘angel’ over many years and was like oh! what a sweet nickname!

and that crowley’s use of the term slowly went from being a derogatory term to a term of endearment!