losing you was a summer-long sunburn. everything hurt to touch. i couldn’t sleep, every position was a blister. i felt dried out, clammy and too hot at the same time, so tired and yet always awake. the worst part was that it still hurt after it faded. the worst part was that others looked and me and said they understood that kind of pain, but eventually rolled their eyes when i brought you up, telling me i should have known better than to not cover my little heart up. the worst part was driving home and seeing the turn i would have taken and feeling that flash roll up my skin. no the worst part was breakfast without you in it. no the worst part was just you. just you. just not having you ever again.
Female character: I can’t have children and that makes me a monster. I’m not worth anything now.
Me a tired creature glaring at the writer:
TEXTS FROM CAS Why Dean isn’t taking Cas to comic con
Don’t confuse my hatred of the hyperwealthy for jealousy over what they have. I don’t want a six figure sports car, or a 40 room mansion, or a gold leaf truffle wagyu steak dinner. I want redistribution of wealth that allows for infrastructural support of all citizens’ basic survival needs.