Isn’t It Kind Of Awesome How We Are All Still Learning And Isn’t It Kind Of Terrible How We’ll

i say idgaf and then im still dreaming about my childhood best friend

Tried to make a post about how much Christmas sucks, but it was mostly incoherent, so instead I’ll post the cliff notes version:

Having no parents on Christmas sucks. Having PTSD on Christmas sucks. Living with my aunt and uncle who make me feel on edge all the time because of how unpredictable their tempers are sucks. Spending Christmas with them sucks even more.

Suns out. flowers are blooming. birds are chirping. yaoi shit is happening to me. maybe it'll all be ok

My friends gift to me a glimmer of hope occasionally; and when they do, all I can think about is how badly I want to see and know the adult versions of them. I think about how nice it would be to have an extra room, or maybe a pullout couch, at the disposal of any friend looking for a warm bed and an ear to listen. I think about them coming to my house just to ask for a cigarette, and to talk about their troubles while we sit on the porch. I think about how I’ll attend (and cry at) their weddings, and I think about how I’ll be with them through messy breakups, and all the inbetweens. I think about how I’ll have their favorite snacks in my cupboard, and how I’ll make sure there’s always an extra toothbrush for them. I think about how I’ll have toys stored away for their potential kids when they visit, and I think about how I’ll get to watch all of us grow up.

I often times think the only thing stopping me from ending it is fear, but I think a little harder about the people I love, and suddenly it feels like my heart is trying to claw through my chest, and grasp onto any hope for the future.

I want to be there to love those around me until I can no longer leave my bed, and my last breaths are be spent cherishing their names.

all you need to do to understand me on a base level is read the lyrics to alameda by elliott smith

If the function got dab pen, Björk, and personality quizzes I’ll be there

One day,

I will have an apartment with one bedroom, decorated with my memories. I will have thrifted furniture, with old pictures and posters from my youth plastered on the walls. I will have a cat, or perhaps a dog, or perhaps both, and I will be with someone I love. I will sit with my lover and share ice cream while watching cheugy reality tv, and our laughter with ring through our home like a symphony of love. We will stay up late talking about nothing, or watching our comfort movies, and we will wake up enveloped in each other (we both prefer sharing the same bed). We will go to work, and talk about our days when we come home. And life will be gentle and quiet.

And if I do not have a lover, I will spend as much time as I can with my friends. I will host sleepovers well into my twenties, and we will laugh and cry, just as we always have. We will get lunch on weekends, and call to vent about our long days. And when I go home, I will not feel the absence of romantic love, but rather the abundance of it platonically.

Either way, I will make a better life for myself. I will have a home without screaming matches, violence, and blackouts. I will be loved in the ways I deserve to be, and I will look back and wonder why I ever considered giving up in the first place.

But I have to mold this life for myself with my bare hands. Peace will not come easily, and I have to be ready to actually work towards the life I desire; but I will make it.

I will make it. I will make it. I will make it.

I need to put down the cup 💔

hate to break it to you but if it keeps you up at night it still hurts no matter how hard you try to swallow it