When You First Moved In With Me, You Got A New Vase. I’ll Buy You Flowers And We’ll Put Them There,
when you first moved in with me, you got a new vase. i’ll buy you flowers and we’ll put them there, – you said. for two years it remained empty on the windowsill, covered with a coat of dust.
when you moved out, you left some things behind. the empty vase, a little toy your late mother bought for you when you were a kid, a mug i gifted you for your birthday. things of no importance.
i can see everything a little bit clearer now. you never cared for little things – not really.
i think i’m going to buy some flowers for myself.
More Posts from Zhylik and Others
i am afraid of love,
of hurting people, of breaking their hearts and leaving them. it feels like i’m not capable of loving someone for a long time and i can’t do anything about it — i just have to wake up every morning, knowing that my feelings are slowly fading, until one day i open my tired eyes and understang — all i feel is an eternal emptiness in my chest.
‘i don’t love you anymore,’ i say quietly into the darkness.
‘please, stay. we can still make it work. we are a perfect couple. i love you.’
‘no,’ i reply with a cold voice. it hurts, and i can’t handle it. i am sorry. i am sorry. i am so fucking sorry.
i can’t afford to love someone anymore — it would be incredibly cruel to them.
i am fucking sobbing. after quentin’s whole arc overcoming his suicidal tendencies. after finally acknowledging quentin’s queerness and showing his relationship with eliot. after q falls back into his depression and self-sacrificial bullshit. after that speech about how “people like me could mean something.” he was just gonna fucking die??? i am completely devestated and confused and angry. what a fucking gut punch to everyone who ever loved this show and saw themselves in quentin
also can we talk about how much i fucking hate them fighting over josh because.... i mean..... josh, really??? girls just make out already, you deserve better than this cheap version of cooking mama
au! where margo is a high king of fillory and fen is her loyal knightess. and her lover.
my favorite love language is trying, actually
you're allowed to be messy, you're allowed to fuck up, you can be emotional and stupid and frantic and confusing and weird and any other embarrassing thing. anyone who makes you feel otherwise, or who makes you feel like you're walking on egg shells, like you're doomed if you slip up, they shouldn't be such a big part of your life.
You’re beautiful.
hannah, ulrich and egon be like:
posts that make me want to rip my heart out part 5
«everything repeats itself, as none of us are prepared to let go»
i am not. i am not prepared to let go.
i have finished the final season of dark an hour ago and now i’m sitting in my kitchen, eating chocolate pudding and crying my eyes out. i am so happy that i’ve had a chance to be a part of this journey. and what a journey it was! i was sad, i was happy, i was angry; i felt excited, i felt betrayed, i felt hopeful. i didn’t like every character. but i loved each and every one of them. they are different. they have unique stories. they make terrible mistakes. they learn and change. they feel incredibly human. i’ve been a part of this story since the first season came out, and letting it go seems very painful. starting watching every next episode felt like i’m making a step closer to some sort of weird emptiness. i’ve finished the last episode — what am i supposed to do with my life now?
the ending was so bittersweet. when jonas and martha realized that they are a glitch in the matrix, when they were erasing their own existence, it felt like losing a part of myself. they wanted to live. they wanted to be happy. they wanted for all of this to finally come to an end. and they had to pay a price. but, honestly, seeing everyone in the original world being so happy, seeng everything being exactly how it should be made me sob and shake. it felt like all of this was worth it. nothing is in vain.
i am not prepared to let go yet. but i think i will be. maybe, in 33 years.
