I might be alone in this, but I always find the first cage cleaning after the loss of a rat to be extremely difficult. It’s sort of like how people who lose a family member don’t want to mess with their stuff: cleaning it up feels like you’re throwing away your loved one. For that reason I’ve been putting off cleaning Genevieve’s cage for far too long.
It wouldn’t be a problem, except that Samwise still lives in that cage. I’ve been changing his litter pan, but I can’t bring myself to throw away Gigi’s last pile of nest fleece. I also don’t want to take her scent away from Sam and leave him all alone. (I’ve been working on introducing him to my other boys, but it’s going slowly.)
I know I need to just suck it up and clean the cage tonight, but I’m not looking forward to it. Maybe I should go buy a pint of consolation ice cream to share with Sammie after I finish.
The weight is gone. he’s not in your life anymore. flirt with the boy in your chemistry class and talk about him with your best friend at lunch. realize how good it feels to have moved on.
delete all of your old messages. delete his number from your phone and don’t write it down anywhere. stop looking for his car whenever you’re out driving. he’s never going to pull into your driveway with an apology at the ready. he’s never gonna fuckin miss you.
and that’s fine. that’s fine. you can still wear your shirt that has that band he likes because he doesn’t own anything in your life. you can still see that basketball logo without feeling like throwing up. he doesn’t own that either.
it’s okay to miss it sometimes. but never try to go back. don’t romanticize this past year because he never loved you. and you never loved him. you were just kids, that’s all. you didn’t know any better.
you couldn’t have.
he was never that good at caring anyway– lily rain
I am terrified. As a member of the American people, as an LGBT+ woman, as a millennial, I am absolutely terrified for the future of America. But I can tell you one thing that I know for certain:
I am not giving up.
I am still treating people with the utmost respect, I am going to live my life fearlessly. I am going to stand with my fellow LGBT+ brothers and sisters and humans and fight for our right.
Just because he won last night doesn’t mean that he can silence us. We come in masses, and we will NEVER be silenced. If we stay strong and keep loving and being passionate about who we are, he cannot hurt us.
For the ones who are secluded to more hatred than myself living in the tip of the Bible Belt, so close to freedom, we will fight for you. We will hug you and never let go until we have reached the brightness of the other side. We did something extraordinary yesterday: we came so close to electing the first woman president, a woman who would do so much for us as a community. Do not let the “almost” discourage you.
This means that we were so close to achieving our goal because so many people took a stand. But it wasn’t enough. We need to get out there, even before the next election, and make our voices heard.
My many thanks to @tyleroakley and @mydrunkkitchen for being such a loud and persistent voice for the LGBT+ youth of America and for being part of the road to equality.
23. The one where once you meet your soulmate, it’s physically uncomfortable to be apart from them for too long.
Holster wakes up feeling like he’s going to throw up. He can’t move, his body crippled with aches and pains and muscle cramps. He moans and squeezes his eyes shut.
They thought they had more time than this. They’d made it a few days in the past, before they had to reunite. But now, not even 24 hours after they said their goodbyes for Christmas, Holster feels like he’s suffering the wrath of a thousand suns.
“Adam?” his mom’s voice floats in through the door. “Honey, can I come in?”
Holster can’t say anything, can’t make his body do what he wants it to. His mom takes his silence as a confirmation, and opens the door slowly.
“Oh, honey,” she says, dropping to the bed next to him and resting a cool hand to his burning skin.
Holster moans and pulls tighter into himself.
“I just got a call from Justin’s brother,” she explains. “He dropped Justin off at the airport a little while ago.”
Holster whimpers and reaches out to grasp her hand.
“Your sister is going to pick him up when he lands. I think you should go with her.”
Holster nods as best as he can.
“Oh, sweetie,” his mom coos. “It’ll be over soon.”
Holster has to rely on his mom and sister to get to the car. He knows it’s not easy for them, he’s almost a foot taller than his sister and his mom is even shorter than her. But they make it there eventually, Holster curling up in a ball in the back seat.
For all the teasing she usually hands out when it comes to Ransom, his sister is quiet the whole ride to the airport. And when they get there, she’s quick to park and bolt into the terminal.
Holster doesn’t know how long it takes, but when she opens the door again to let the security guard shove Ransom into the back seat, he feels like he’s taking the first breath of fresh air after being held underwater.
Ransom is crying, and they immediately wrap themselves around each other as best as possible. Holster sobs into Ransom’s neck, and feels their bodies twitching in sync as they try to regain control. His whole world narrows to Ransom, his breathing, his heartbeat, and every sliver of skin where they’re touching.
By the time Holster realizes the car has started moving again, they’re pulling into the driveway and his mom is helping the two of them out of the back seat.
“My bag,” Ransom croaks, the first word he’s said out loud.
“We’ll get it,” Holster’s sister says, shoving them towards the door.
Holster leads them to his room where they collapse onto the bed, still somehow twisted with each other. Holster pulls at Ransom’s shirt and lets Ransom pull at his, to get more skin on skin contact, and sighs when they’re finally settled.
“’M sorry,” Ransom mumbles.
“Why?” Holster asks.
“Couldn’t control it. Missed you too much.”
“Missed you too,” Holster says with a sigh. “’Least you go to me.”
Ransom snuggles closer and takes a deep breath. Both of their bodies have stopped shaking and twitching, the pain finally receding and leaving them more exhausted than anything else.
“R’mind me to thank my sister,” Holster says sleepily.
“’Mind me to call my brother,” Ransom responds.
Holster drops his lips to Ransom’s and leaves them there, not kissing but not going anywhere.
“Love you,” Ransom says.
“Love you too,” Holster replies, letting his exhaustion take over and drop him into a deep sleep.