i-gonna-miss-you

"You are the best teacher ever! I’m gonna miss you so much! I hope next year will be as great as this year. You are so nice!! No other teacher could be as nice as you! It’s impossible! I hope I get to see you sometimes next year. I’ll never forget you! Love, Olivia"

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I’M GONNA MISS YOU - Mar 4, 2015

anonymous asked:

Glad I found you again, lesfrites. Never gonna let you go because I missed your adorbs art k (hugs you tight)

ヽ(´∇´)ノ (∇´ノ) ヽ(   )ノ (ヽ´∇) ヽ(´∇`)ノ
Never gonna go til I get deleted again ye

I love this human so much. sceirine I love laying in bed with you, and having you fall asleep in like half a second next to me. I love the time I get to spend with you, and I can’t wait until I can spend every night with you, butt to butt, cause that’s how we sleep best (: I have no clue what you see in me but I’m so thankful for you and all that you do for me, whether it’s being my motivator, or taking care of me when I’m sick or have a migraine or whatever. You’re perfect and I love you so much (: I’m gonna miss you when I go home tomorrow ):

Goodbye Dad.

He was asleep, as he is most of the time now. Walking over to say goodbye, I started crying. I sat down next to him on his bed and was crying. It woke him and he freaked out a bit, asking what was wrong. I explained that I have to leave and I’m upset because I have to leave. It took a few times until he understood what I meant. “You’re upset because you have to leave?” “Yeah.” “Aw baby, you know dad is gonna miss you too.” “I have to go back and take care of rent and the stupid cats and shit.” “Yeah, go take care of business.” I hugged him and kissed his cheek. “If I don’t see you again, I love you and I’ll miss you.” “I love you too. But you will see me again.” I laid in his arms for a couple of minutes and he hugged me tight, I kissed his shoulder and his cheek again. He kissed my cheek back. I said “okay, I’ve gotta go say goodbye to my brother.” When I got up I could tell mom was crying. I walked into the other room, where my brother was, to say goodbye. We cried and hugged eachother awhile. Told eachother we loved eachother etc. I came back out to say goodbye to everyone else. Gave my dad a less weepy hug, made some jokes about how he was finally able to shit and such, because that’s how we handle sadness. Mom said she wanted to say goodbye to me outside. Michael and I walked outside. I yelled back “I love you dad!” And he said “I love you too!” Mom said her goodbyes and Michael and I left, after sitting outside gathering myself for a bit.

I talked to him yesterday for a few minutes. Things are about the same. I feel so sick right now. I wanted to write all this down because I don’t want to forget it. It hurts. I’m scared. I don’t want to lose him. You would think I’d be more prepared for this since he’s been sick for so long now but I’m not prepared at all. I try to call my mom each day. I know any time she calls I’m going to freak out completely…I feel so sick.

okay but let’s say “women can be sexist!” okay fine sure. so a woman is sexist, she says, “i hate men,” you say, “fuck off lady,” go home kinda hurt that she’s mean. the next day you will interact with plenty of women who aren’t sexist. that one woman becomes a story you tell your buddies and everyone laughs. your life doesn’t change.

this is the reverse of how women live. at every interaction, our bodies are ready to flinch. when a man says, “i hate women,” most of us don’t say, “fuck off,” we feel our hearts beat faster and our hands tremble. we go home panicked. happy to be in one piece. happy we made it out of there. we don’t talk about you. you are not the first person to disrespect us, and you won’t be the last. you are the scar every single one of us carries. the next day, all but a few of the men we talk to will carry your face: our boss who constantly checks out his secretary, the man in the cubicle next to us who is always making sex jokes and saying, “what’s wrong sweetie?” when we ask for help, the man down the hall who likes to put cups on his chest and sing out “oh no i broke a nail!” and toss his hair and show that female is stupid and clumsy and everyone always laughs but the air in our lungs is so tight we can’t swallow it.

let’s say some women are sexist. she yelled at you for holding the door open. she told you men are babies. she made a post on the internet saying “even if some of us might be, we are nowhere near as dangerous to you as you are to us”. she is one out of sixteen hundred.

let’s say some men really are nice guys. he doesn’t get angry if you snap at small things. he doesn’t call you hysterical if you start crying. he is constantly unlearning everything sexist that has been taught to him. he knows that a post which hurts his feelings won’t ever equate to someone following him home. he is one out of sixteen hundred.

men say, “i’m not a sexist, i married a woman.” men say, “i’m just playing devil’s advocate.” men say, “you don’t get how bad rejection is.” men say, “i’m not one of them, i’m a nice guy and if you let me fuck you, you’d know it.”

women say, “i hate men.”

men say, “its not my fault the system is like this. and besides, we have problems too.”

women say, “please, i just want to walk down the street without being worried what you will do”

men say, “if you want equal, can i punch you?”

—  I’m sorry if you were ever hurt by something someone angry said. It doesn’t mean you have any idea what it’s like to live like this. You cannot equate a rotten apple in a bushel to a swarm of wasps, one of which might be a pacifist.  // r.i.d
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