A receipt from Annie’s, for a Pumpkin Spice Latte and a coffee, medium
Keeping more than one would be weird. But he found this one in his pocket, and just placed it in his desk drawer. It was not the first time he went to Annie’s with Bittle. He hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
He didn’t know why he did it. It seemed important. Sometimes he opened the drawer to fetch a pencil, saw the receipt, and remembered Bittle, smiling, mid-rant, his hands moving, his eyes dancing. It seemed important.
It came with the cookies he found in his luggage. It didn’t say much, but it was enough to make Jack smile. He kept it on his bedside table during the holidays, to remind himself to be nicer to Bittle.
A Samwell sweater, size small
Bittle and Shitty had spent the afternoon in Jack’s room, half studying, half procrastinating. It had been a good afternoon. At one point, Bittle left to bake something. Shitty left an hour later.
The thing with anxiety, is that it doesn’t need a reason. Even after a good day spent with friends.
So when Jack curled around on his bed, shaking and holding back his tears, his head found the small sweater, half-hidden under the pillow.
He breathed in, and immediately felt calmer. It was like getting a hug from Bittle.
It was of Bittle, walking next to the lake, face half-hidden in his fluffy scarf. He’d been complaining of the cold and the early hour. But his eyes were smiling.
Jack didn’t like taking pictures with his camera, but he kept this one hidden inside his phone, where only he knew where to find it.
A screen capture
He had to ask how to take it, but Bittle didn’t laugh at him. It was a screenshot of the texting application, taken the day of his graduation.
Jack: Hey Jack: Sorry I had to go. Jack: I just wanted to say that I like you. Bittle: …Jack, omg Bittle: I Bittle: I like you too. A lot. Have for a while.
They sent each other so many texts, so many I like you and I live you and I miss you, Jack couldn’t keep them all. But this one he kept, it was the first. It seemed important.
Anxiety led to a spat of self-loathing which led to regret and despair
and rage… And then I picked myself up a bit to make some vent art.
And, yeah, I think it turned out pretty damn well, for all the feelings
that were poured into it. Because I am not giving up on my dreams and my life and love. My love being Casey cuz’ I am totally going to make a life together with them and YOU AIN’T GONNA STOP US, WORLD.
Don’t you hate when someone you follow reblogs several sad or depressing posts in a row? Like I just want to wrap them up in a warm blanket and give them a mug of hot chocolate and tell them that they’re beautiful and amazing and that life might suck right now but one day it’ll be everything they’d ever wanted, and that they deserve to be around to experience that.