caps:mine

1. when he puts a record on the first night you stay over, try not to fall asleep wondering who else he’s played the exact same one for. (footnote: also try not to cry when you hear those songs on the car radio later.)

2. when he trails his lips across your skin, you’ll be dizzy with it. make sure to still keep your head on straight; it might take your breath away, but everyone needs air at some point.

3. when he talks to you late at night about his childhood, you’re going to suddenly want to tell him all of your secrets, all of your desires. leave some of these out or they’ll be tainted by memories of him every time you think of them.

4. when he takes you out and holds your hand as you walk, the world will be a little less heavy on your chest in that moment. there’s nothing wrong with feeling sort of floaty as long as you know how to get back down.

5. when he tells you how good you look in your favorite dress, you’re going to recall his eyes on you every time you wear it. it’s fine to hide it in the back of your closet for a few months.

6. when he drinks he’ll want to argue and you’ll be hurt and confused in your equivalent intoxication, but remember to keep your thoughts unclouded. it’s pointless for two drunken idiots to be shouting at each other over nothing.

7. when he texts you out of the blue three months after you walked away expecting to never hear from him again, it’s okay if your heart pounds a little, but don’t tell him that you miss him.

—  seven reminders about a boy

I see it, you know, when I stand in the middle of my apartment in my skivvies and I look at my reflection. I see the small changes that have occurred in the last six weeks. I feel like a sculpture, curved here, lifted here. Yoga, walks, standing up to work. Moving, lifting furniture. 

I feel good again, standing there loving on myself with my eyes. I still see stretch marks, and cellulite, but in a way they are like little splatters of paint. Nothing to be too concerned with. 

It’s nearly too warm in my apartment, so I find moments when walking around in the evening light in my underwear, a pleasing testament to myself. I don’t remember falling out of love with my body in the past 8 months but it happened, not neglect, or dislike… just I felt foreign to it, with it. 

I’m not perfectly proportioned, I can’t say I look perfect from any angle. But I do know that when I’m alone, in my apartment and I see the way the line of my arms leads to my fingers, near my hips. The way my thighs puzzle together, comfort in their companionship. 

I’m down a couple dress sizes, I’m down a couple belt holes. But all I notice is how much I like bending a knee and rising up to my toes, gently admiring myself. Breath in and then out. Easy. It’s simple. It’s mine. 

I think this is very important, very important. 

6

An anon asked for updated pictures of my bookshelves! The coffee table in the middle is filled with books and my new shelves arrived yesterday and they look so terribly bare! Believe it or not but the room this is actually a bigger room than the one they were in before! My new shelves are from Early Settlers and if you’re in Australia I recommend checking them out for beautiful furniture!

The white shelves are my favourites/special editions/pretty books!