I Just Want To Be Loved, But I Don't Want To Input The Burden Of My Existence Onto Someone's Life When

If he really wanted you he’d kidnap you

rowan whitethorn with a sword is so sexy

“Fuck it, we slay” (heavy eye bags, dehydrated, on the verge of insanity)

I lost my best friend 3 years ago- not lost as in dead but lost as in we only text each other on our birthdays now. Movies and books don't tell you that a friendship dying is like the sinking of a ship, you try to get higher and higher and hold onto the rails and unanswered texts, the captain tries to steer it to safety and salvage pieces of two broken hearts until you're left with memories of what once was. We were friends for a decade and knew each other's diaries by heart, I still remember her phone number and the way she took her coffee. Seeing her in streets is like breathing in a scent you forgot you knew but it immediately takes you back to a summer in '07.

Movies and books also don't tell you that friendships don't just end after one fight or incident, it's like the rusting of a bridge, the slow decay of flesh and bones and secrets. It took weeks, months- until one day I woke up and I realized I hadn't thought of her in a while. And I wrote a poem that day and I titled it 'The dying of a best friend' and I put all my love for her in a tiny box with my half of the matching pendant of a dolphin we had and stored them in a corner of my heart under the heading Grief. Where else can one hide unspent love?

It's been 3 years since I lost my best friend, lost as in I still carry our secrets in a tiny box but we only text each other on our birthdays.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

Edit: here's the visualizer for this piece

— Arthur Miller, The Crucible

⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺

𝙄’𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙬,

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚

𝙄 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮.

𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙙𝙞𝙯𝙯𝙮,

♡ xoxo-Suzy ♡

⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺

You watch him walk away, still waiting for him to turn around and say this was all a joke. That he still loves you. That he still wants you. But he keeps walking. Step after step, another kick to your shattered heart. You were going to break down in the middle of this whole room. The tears blur your eyes until you can’t see the gaping faces around you. Everything hurts. Is this what death felt like? Nothing seems to function like it’s supposed to anymore and your knees give out. Strong hands suddenly take a hold of you, supporting all your weight and bringing shivers to your skin. You’re not sure what pathetic noise you make because suddenly his lips are at your ear whispering “shhh angel, you’re ok. I’ve got you. I’m going to lead you outside now.” The familiar voice shocks you enough to look up and you see your enemy look down at you with a suspiciously gentle look. Too tired and broken to care, you let him move you until you feel him sit down and pull you into his lap, cradling you.  You weren’t sure if this was some cruel joke for him but you figure there’s nothing left of you for him to break. So, you sit there with him, face buried in his neck, devastation tearing through your soul. “I’ll kill him for hurting you.” Surprised, you lift your head to see if he’s joking, but all you find is fire and dark promise in his eyes, one that shouldn’t reassure you so much but does anyways. His thumb comes up to swipe your tears and he leans forward to press a soft kiss on your brow. “Don’t waste your tears on him, Angel. He doesn’t deserve them. Let alone your heart.” You let out a broken laugh and whisper, voice cracking, “well its too fucking late for that isn’t it. I gave it to him and he caged it. Ruined it.” A flicker of wrath crossed his face, a look that could bring gods to their knees. “I’ll steal it back for you my love,” he replied so softly that you barely heard him. “I’ll steal it back for you and then rip his out of his chest for every time he clipped your beautiful angel wings.” Kissing my tear-stained cheek, he tells me, “You’re free now baby. Free for me to take.” Your eyes widen at his last statement and terror shoots through you as you start to feel drowsy. The last thing you see before slipping into oblivion is his cunning smirk and cold eyes.

Left Munich at 8:35 P. M., on 1st May, arriving at Vienna early next morning; should have arrived at 6:46, but train was an hour late.

Me last year: 6:46 is… very precise, buddy.

Me this year: