When it gets cold in the winter Kent blasts the furnace, grabs a pile of blankets, and falls asleep in a ball next to the heating vent. Kit is known to occasionally nudge in next to him and join the snuggle party.
It was 2 am. No text from Mark for days except that one “sorry, wrong text” text a couple days ago.
You were sitting on the couch of your shared apartment with your arms crossed and your frustration growing by the minute. Your head turned as you heard the fumbling of keys outside your apartment door.
You watch as the door open slowly. You continue to watch as Mark places his keys into your key bowl and swiftly taking off his shoes. He completely ignores you as he enters the bedroom. At this point, you’re fuming. You stand up and follow him into the bedroom.
You usually just shrugged it off and gave him the silent treatment before he would apologize or vise versa. There was something that just… Clicked and you started to argue with him. It wasn’t healthy to start bring up things from the past, but one thing led to another and it escalated real fast.
This was the last straw. All the missed calls, missed dates, the warmth from him was gone.
“I’m done. I’m done with you. I’m leaving!” You screamed with tears falling from your eyes.
“Fine, go then.” He coldly snapped back.
You took a deep breath to compose yourself before slamming the door. You angrily made your way to the elevator and climbed on. You were already having second thoughts. You wanted to run back into the apartment and apologize, giving him hugs and kisses. You were about to… Until that feeling clicked again. You let the elevator close and that was the last time you saw Mark.
It was weeks since your fight. Mark kept calling, texting you and even visiting your work place. Every time, you barely escaped him. He was persistent. Where was that persistence when you were together? It wasn’t until you were closing up your work building that you saw Mark again. You tried to hurry up to your car, but he swiftly blocked your driver’s door.
“Y/N. Let’s talk please.” He begged, his voice almost as a whisper
“We don’t need to. You made it very clear that you don’t want to be with me anymore.” You replied, trying to grab onto your car handle.
“That’s not what I said!” He exclaimed.
“I heard you loud and clear Mark, you ignored me for weeks… No text, no phone calls, not even saying hi to me when you just came back from your tour. Nothing. I don’t want to go through that again.” You spat out. You were angry, tired and depressed.
You loved Mark. You didn’t know what to do with everything. Your hands instinctively reached out for his hands, but you quickly pulled back. Mark noticed and tried to reach out for you… You swatted his hands.
“… I just need some time away from you.” You whispered before pushing him slightly away from your door. You climbed in and turned on the ignition. You opened your window and lastly said your goodbyes.
“Get home safe, okay?” You said, before driving off.
Mark watched as you drove off. His heart was crushed. He never should have fought with you. He shouldn’t have ignored you all those weeks. He needed a sign. A sign from some higher power or something… He needed you back, no matter what it took. He loved you too much to let you go this easily.
I swear to god one of the worst things about having tumours is actually having to deal with an estranged side of the family because it’s genetic and they need to get genetically tested but there’s not enough info out there so instead I have to have long conversations about the disease like come on universe the tumours are bad enough for real.
inspire me do me a favor: kiss me until the sun comes up so i have something to write poems about.
i’m tired of writing about places that don’t exist, homes we built and watched burn. i’m tired of pretending that there were no fires; i’m tired of pretending that it doesn’t hurt.
i’m tired of writing letters that no one reads, i’m tired of giving everything to people who don’t love me.
you see things differently when you don’t have home to go back to. a bed is just a bed, an old piano is just cracked black and white keys, a person is just another body with too much potential to ruin you.
so let me love you now, slowly. i am ready to write about something real, something i can prove; i want to write novels about the way you look at me -and baby i can write until your name is inscribed on walls in foreign cities, until the words you say to me are tattooed on stranger’s hearts - but more than anything i want to be able to say that every word i write about you is true.
just give me some time. give me time to figure out how to come back from years of fiction, years of pretend. give me time and i promise, i’ll learn to hold on to the important things and let go of the rest. i’ll learn to breathe without the memories suffocating me.
and then i’ll write, and write, and write; and we’ll never die.
last year i was lonely and depressed and wondering when exactly things were going to get better, like there was going to be this one Shining Crystal Clear Moment in which everything suddenly became better
but that’s not how it works. that’s not how life works. it happens one step at a time and sometimes it’s so slow it’s painful and it doesn’t feel any different but then you look up and you’re sitting beside a new friend and you’re both laughing quietly in a meeting and trying not to be noticed but you’re both crying from laughter about something you can’t even remember anymore and it just hits you that….one year ago you hated yourself and you hated everything about your life and now you don’t
one day you’re walking down the street and people run up behind you and jump on your shoulders and you laugh because wow they actually ran to catch up with you because they like you and they want to hang out with you
you’ve got people who drunkenly tell you they want to be your friend and the next day when everyone’s sober and the cold light of day casts shadows on the activities of the night before those same people are making a real effort to get to know you because you’re not as useless or awful as you’ve always thought you are
people who listen to you talk about the things you like and don’t tell you it’s boring, who compliment you on the things you’re talented at and help you get even better
people who will sing with you and hide in closets with you so that you’re not alone on your bad days and who will dance when you record a snapchat video instead of hiding from the camera like they’re ashamed to be seen with you
and it plants this seed in your mind…like if all of these amazing people who are all so different and diverse see something in you that they genuinely like, so much so that they’re willing to become friends with you independent of family obligations or the restricting confines of childhood, there must be something really good about you.
it comes. it will all come. it won’t come the way you expect because that’s not how life works but it comes in hidden forms and sometimes you just don’t realize it until you’re crying with laughter on a monday morning in the midst of a meeting with someone you didn’t know twelve months ago and life is different than the way it was supposed to be, but it’s good. so, so good.
What a shame it would be if someone found the key to yesterday—opened its doors and went through the vestibule. Everyone would be so tempted to follow. Even worse, what if someone figured out the password to tomorrow? Would not everyone feel an urge to hack its system?
Yet, without any critical thinking, we are here right now in this moment. We are not in “what was” or “what will be,” but “what is.” What will we make of that?
In the future, we want to be successful at our dream career. Right now, we are glued to the couch.
In the past, we were living. Right now, we’re settling to exist.
Right now, we have a decision to make—have. Not had or will have. Have. Right now.
So, don’t live for what could’ve been or what could be. Live for what is. Live for what’s right in front of you.
Yesterday is history. Its entryway to life is blocked off with the word, “never,” and it locks its doors with, “impossible.” Tomorrow does not yet have its foundation. It depends on today.
So live today.
No matter how much you love the stories told behind yesterday’s doors or would like to add another lock to ensure that the day will never come again, it’s over. Not even the smartest scientist can redo yesterday.
Whatever was once lifeless in the night gets a heart when the sunrise announces morning. Time vacuums the pollution out of the new born day so every new opportunity is in your reach. Just reach out and touch it while it’s still there, while today—right now—is still here.
The reality is that today has an expiration date. The sun will eventually set, and the twenty-four hours will be accounted for. Until then, what will we do? What will we do to give the sun a reason to shine? How about getting up and off the couch? How about putting down your phone? How about going out and exploring your city? How about making memories?
Today is so precious, so beautiful, and so short. How will we make it worth living?
Let’s forget about yesterday and tomorrow and shift our focus on today. Let’s not be so far gone into the past or into the future that we forget about these special moments we have right now.
So, let’s excuse ourselves from yesterday. Let’s excuse ourselves from tomorrow. We can’t let them hold us back.
i feel like every time i procrastinate on an assignment or whatever there is always a switch that flips where i go from relatively calm about the deadline to freaking out that i won’t get it done in time in .5 seconds
like it’s either ‘it’s fine, i have plenty of time until this is due, i can relax for a while, teach myself how to cross stitch, climb a mountain, raise a few kids, submit my taxes, just really experience LIFE, u know?’ and then suddenly without a warning it turns into ‘IF I DO NOT START THIS IMMEDIATELY I WILL FAIL AND MY ENTIRE FAMILY WILL DIE’
there is no grace period, there is no in between, i’m either incredibly calm to the point of boredom or i am crying and cursing the day i was born
It’s Saturday and Mulder and Scully wake up early in the unremarkable house and shuffle downstairs in their pajamas and bare feet, heading for the coffee and then the couch, covering themselves with a giant blanket and settle in next to each other to have a marathon of their current show. They have the day free since Will is at a friend’s house. Scully dozes off and on in Mulder’s arms. They take breaks for snacks and, of course, more coffee.