if you need me i'll be crying over this book for the rest of my life

100 ways to say “I love you”:
1. You are beautiful.
2. I love your smile.
3. Here, let me get that for you.
4. I love seeing you wake up in the morning.
5. You are amazing.
6. I love (this) about you:
7. Stay safe. Text me when you get there.
8. I love when you do (this):
9. I think you’re beautiful when:
10. You’re too good for me.
11. I don’t deserve you.
12. I care about you.
13. Don’t put yourself down like that.
14. I adore you.
15. I can’t stop thinking about you.
16. Seeing you makes me smile.
17. I need you by my side.
18. I’m thankful for you.
19. You make me a better person.
20. You complete me.
21. Have a good day at work!
22. You’re the light of my life.
23. Seeing you makes my day.
24. I get butterflies every time we talk.
25. I’m so lucky to have you; I don’t know how I got so lucky.
26. You set my heart on fire.
27. I’ll walk you home.
28. I love to make you happy.
29. You’re my soulmate.
30. You’re my best friend.
31. I can’t wait to see you (again).
32. You mean the world to me.
33. You’re my rock.
34. I value you.
35. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.
36. I love being around you.
37. Pull over and let me drive some.
38. Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.
39. I want you.
40. You complete me.
41. You’re my happiness.
42. Do you need anything?
43. I want to hold your hand and never let go.
44. You’re the only one for me.
45. You are my heaven on earth.
46. Every time I look at you I fall in love all over again.
47. Drive safe.
48. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
49. Forever isn’t too long, because I know I’ll be with you.
50. I’d rather argue with you than kiss someone else.
51. You look great today.
52. I love that _______ on you.
53. You look cute when you push your glasses up.
54. I’ll always be here; I’m here for you.
55. My heart hurts when you’re not around.
56. I can’t think of what my life would be like without you.
57. We’re perfect for each other.
58. I cherish you; you’re more important than anything else in my life.
59. I will love you until I die, and even after.
60. You’re mine.
61. I support you.
62. I’m addicted to you.
63. You’re perfect in my eyes.
64. Take this; it’ll help you feel better.
65. I can’t wait to see you.
66. You’re the only one for me.
67. I’m crazy about you.
68. I had an amazing time with you.
69. I feel so lucky to have you.
70. I’ll never let you go; I’ll never want to.
71. I hope this moment never ends.
72. You leave me breathless.
73. I’d do anything for you.
74. Seeing you happy makes me happy.
75. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings.
76. You always find a way to make me smile.
77. I can’t put what I feel for you into words; it’s too great.
78. I still get jealous even though I know you’re mine.
79. I’m listening to you.
80. I made this for you, I know it’s your favorite.
81. I’m excited and nervous for tonight with you.
82. I got you your favorite candy.
83. I’ll always care about you.
84. I made you breakfast.
85. I can never stay mad at you.
86. I love your eyes; they’re gorgeous.
87. I love that outfit on you.
88. You look so cute.
89. You’re the highlight of my day.
90. How’d you sleep?
91. Your smile makes my heart go crazy.
92. I hate seeing you cry.
93. It’s my job to make you happy.
94. I want to spend more time with you.
95. I’ll fix it.
96. I hate when we argue.
97. You’re the only person I want to live my life with.
98. You drive me crazy (in a good way).
99. I’m proud of you.
100. I trust you, I always will.

- L.L.
—  via @thoughtlessinspirationss on tumblr
Something I wrote on the bus...

Wake up in the morning for work.

You have a decent job.

Try to remember you got this job in hopes to “Begin your future”.

Realize you don’t have much hope for the future now.

Feel no meaningful reason to get up other than to work and make money for food and shelter for survival.

Look at the time and decide whether or not I need to hit snooze once more for sleep, or wake up to eat breakfast…

Snooze wins.

Let’s begin.

Get on bus.

Homeless man is screaming at some white girl.

Arrive at work. Extremely early.

Having no life has it’s benefits.

Sit around and make small talk with co-workers.

I force myself to talk to co-workers even though I have nothing in common with them other than that I work where they do.


Clock in.

Work is busy.

Employees are working and managers are managing.

I’m a robotic zombie.

I don’t even check the time anymore. I just black out till the pain is over.

I walk into the freezer to get something.

Freezer opens up to a warm room. There’s a girl sitting on a couch.

She turns to me “Honey, you’re home!”

“What?” I look around.

I’m home.

“Come sit next to me and tell me about your day.”

I slowly approach the couch with caution.

I plop down on the couch.

I’m not looking at the girl, but I feel her staring at me and smiling.

I look up for a second to make eye contact.

The girl had no distinct facial features or even a body. The more I tried to focus on her the more she blurred out, actually.

Like a ghost.

She’s awaiting eagerly for what I have to say.

I look away again. Some chill goes through my chest.

I clear my throat and try to continue.

“Busy, managers are hard on us. I’m…strained. I’ve been wanting to sleep all day…”

She doesn’t say anything. Waiting for me to go on.

“Who are you?” I ask

“You know who I am.” She replied.

“I want to leave.”

“And go where?”


“You are home.”

“No, my real home.”

“That’s not a home.”

“It’s the place I eat, sleep…”

“Cry, pray, and wallow?”

Hate her.

“A home should be a place you feel warm and happy, with someone you love.”

“That place doesn’t exist.”

“But you’re here now.”

“This place isn’t real.”

“But you’re sitting right here.”

She hugs me.

I start to get cold…


Wake up standing at the bus stop.

It’s Raining.

Feels like I’m forgetting something…

Get on bus.

Homeless man is yelling at another white girl.


No friends to hang out with.

Just me and pizza on weekends.

Pizza doesn’t talk shit so I love pizza.

Listen to music for a little bit…



Then Metallica

Then Owl City…

Then some underground artists…

No life means no preference.

The music becomes noise after awhile and gets annoying.

I turn it off.

Lay down.


Wake up

Call my friend who lives miles from me.

Last friend who I share a connection with.

The distance sucks but they are good company.

Someone I can joke with and rant to playfully.

Wish I could actually see them.

A man can dream.

We talk with each other through video chat.

It was fun.

They have to go to bed.

I have the rest of the day to myself.

I make paper airplanes and throw them around my apartment.

They hit a wall, crumple up and die.

Like my dreams.


Wake up.

It’s my day off….

…go back to bed.

Wake up again.

A familiar feeling surrounds me. It’s warm.

God damn it.


She’s back. I’m positive I know her.


“What do you mean ‘what?’ It’s your day off we have the whole day to outselves.”

I try to sleep and ignore her.

“I see, of course you’ve been working hard. I’ll let you sleep.” she fades away

Thank God she’s gone.

“But before I go.”

Hate her.

I feel her jump in bed.

I turn my body to face away from her.

“I could use a nap too.” she says innocently.

I don’t know what to do.

“Why are you here?” I ask

“Because I love you.”


“Why not. Besides I want to love you. Plus you deserve someone who really loves you.”

“That’s the problem, YOU’RE not real.”

“I’m real to you though.”

“Not real enough.”

“Why fight something that makes you happy?”

“The happiness has to be genuine and real.”

“Can you define real?”

“Something you can hold and see.”

“What if you can only hold something in your heart?”

I turn around to answer her.

She’s gone, I’m staring at a wall now.

“It might be a burden to carry then.”

Sit down on the couch and watch TV.

Walking Dead is the only thing that keeps me alive.

It ends, and I change the channels with the remote.

“What do you want to watch honey?” She says.

“Nothing…I just want to sleep.”

“Then rest honey.”

I position to lay down on the pillow next to me.

The pillow becomes her lap.

I’m staring at static as she hums.

I sink into her lap.

I don’t want to wake up this time.



plots based off songs from melanie martinez’s debut album crybaby;;

001. alphabet boy — fuck all your abc’s, alphabet boy,

  • { a } & { b }  have always been at odds—both being the smartest kids in their grades but having completely different opportunities. { a  } was born into a poor family and therefore family takes priority over grades and they fall behind constantly. { b } was born into wealth, affording all the tutors and generally having it easy and picking on  { a } who they usually have to tutor so they can catch up. eventually { a } drops out of school to work for their family and { b } graduates top of their class. but a year later they both run into each other and things are different— { a } is still working but earned a ged and is now moving into a new apartment, and { b } is struggling after being cut off financially and now with no place to stay—not to mention they’re knee deep in college debt now. { b } is now in desperate need of { a }’s help, but will they help them after so many years of teasing?

002.  soap —  i feel it coming up my throat guess I better wash my mouth out with soap,

  • { a } & { b } were once really great friends who told each other everything, who could call one another at one in the morning and know the other person would pick up. however, { a } felt something more for { b } and as easily as they could, confessed to them. { a } now feeling smothered and pressured, said they didn’t feel the same way and { b }, hurt, cut off all communications with them. years later at a party, { a } sees { b } drunk and ignoring them at all costs. when { b } drunkenly stumbles outside,  { a } corners them and demands to know why they’ve been avoiding them for long, generally getting more and more upset until   { b } drunkenly yells that they’re still in love with them and never got over a broken heart before passing out. { a } takes { b } home with them, and the next morning { b } wakes up in { a }’s apartment, hungover but with the blaring memory of what happened the night before. they try to escape, but { a } won’t let them leave their life again. because just maybe….in the years when { b } ignored them, { a } realized they were actually in love with { b }. but seeing how { b } completely hates them now, doesn’t know how to say it.

003. training wheels —  fully undressed no training wheels left for you,

  • before they were even a couple, { a } and { b } were always known as the shy kids, so when they got together, nobody could resist admiring how cute they were as a couple. from blushing every time they looked at each other, to the gentle way they touched each other, even how they always teased and poked fun at each other when they never did it with anybody else. they’ve always been on the surface of a relationship, but { a } is ready to take it further—they feel that they’ve been ready to go father, but { b }, who suffers from low self esteem after a previous bad relationship, has always been the reason they’ve held back. when they decide to take a small roadtrip together, { a } hopes to use this time to get closer to { b }, emotionally and physically. they’re staying in old hotels and sharing beds, stealing each other’s clothes and all both of them really want is to be with each other, no matter what happens.

004. pacify her —  you don’t love her stop lying with those words,

  • { a } and { b } have been friends for a while, and there’s always been something more bubbling under the surface, but neither have ever acted on it until both got drunk at a party and admitted it and then slept together. after that day things have always been a bit strange between them, but they kept their stance as friends. but when { b } starts dating another person who { a } personally can’t stand, things turn sour between them. and when their partner lets out their ugly side and lashes out at { a } and { b } does nothing to defend them, { a } decides they want nothing to do with either of them. until { b } shows up crying at their door.

005. mrs. potato head — oh mrs. potato head tell me, is it true that pain is beauty,

  • { a } is born into family where looks are everything—their mother is a beauty queen, so are their sisters. their father is deemed attractive, voted the most handsome in high school and still now is complimented for his good looks. { a } from a young age is forced to believe without good looks you’ll have nothing, and has been groomed from a young age, participating in beauty pageants where they always take first place. nobody looks at the person { a } truly is, and they themselves are forced to hide away the truer parts of them that would rather curl up in sweats and write stories, something they’ve been doing forever to handle the pressure. along comes { b } a journalism student, who comes across one of the stories { a } leaves behind after a gala and is impressed; always having the idea that { a } and the rest of their family were rather stuck up and annoying. the next time they run into each other, { b } returns the story along with a book they’ve always enjoyed. as time goes on, the two develop a cute relationship, leaving notes for each other in books, sneaking around and { a } sneaking out from galas and parties just to be with { b }. { b } is seeing { a } for who they are, not because of their face, and that in itself makes { a } want them all the more.

anonymous asked:

(GUESS WHO) in light of our constant sobbing over these two, I would love no. 3 with Alfred and Jay (it can be adult Jay or bby Jay I'll leave that up to you!) <3

thank u so much for sending AND SORRY FOR THE WAIT <333 

Here they are Alfred and Jason. hurt/comfort, timeline?? what timeline. it’s not their first meeting after jay’s resurrection I know that. <33 pls enjoy

3. please don’t leave 

Jason shouldn’t be here.

Coming to the manor for a few books he likes is one of his worst ideas. The weather is dreadful, snow reaching his ankle, cold biting his skin as he strolls to the side of the manor, close to his old window.

The security system is down which means Alfred had stayed home instead of going to grocery shopping. Huh, that’s fine. Jason is going to be quiet and won’t make a ruckus. Alfred won’t even know he was there.

He isn’t avoiding Alfred.

He is only keeping his distance so he won’t crumble and break down in front of those sharp eyes, seeing everything Jason wants to hide in the back of his mind. Alfred just knows him too much. Even after he came back to life, their conversation never has turned to his death or his resurrection and Jason wants to keep it that way.

It’s not the first time Jason is in the manor after his death but it feels like it. The stuffing feeling seeing his books on the shelves, the bed reminding him all the time he was awake in the morning hours reading instead of sleeping.

It’s a bitter reminder what he lost but he can only blame himself in the end.

He exhales a shaky breath as he stands in front of his bookshelf. Before he can choose the books, his door opens and it’s Alfred standing in the door, calm and collected like always as if Jason’s presence is welcomed.

Keep reading

31 things I learned in the first 31 days of 2016

1. Home is not a place, but the people you surround yourself with. 
Having spent the first seconds of 2016 in New York with my best friend and her family, the year started out great. I wasn’t physically at home, yet I had never felt so at home in my life. When the ball dropped and everyone’s glasses clinked together in celebration, I found myself delighted to be a part of not one, but two families. I was home.

2. Facetiming your dog really does brighten your day.

3. There’s something about road tripping with your best friend with music blaring as loud as it goes, that makes you forget everything you’ve ever worried about. 
These are the times you’ll remember. You and your bff. Sitting in the backseat of the car, singing Jonas Brothers 2007 top hits at the top of your lungs. These are the moments. You won’t remember tripping on that ice patch in front of a group of teenagers walking back from class. You won’t remember how you were forced to sit alone at lunch one day and spent the entirety of it feeling your face burn hotter than the sun. You wont remember any of it, so stop worrying, and start living.

4. Three isn’t a crowd when you surround yourself with the right people.

5. Feel everything. There’s a difference between living and existing. 
Feel hurt. Feel ache. Feel butterflies in your stomach before entering the busy cafeteria because your anxiety doesn’t ever leave you alone. Feel your skin burning when you look like crap in public and a group of good looking people stare you down. Feel brand new again when you go outside and the sun kisses your cheeks for the first time in days. Feel everything- good or bad. It’s the only way you’ll exist in this world. (And hey, if you’re like me, you’ll get some great writing out of it too).

6. You’ll experience serendipitous encounters of joy when you stop searching for them.

7. Pain is good for you.
If we didn’t experience hurt, we wouldn’t know the capacity of our strength. You live and you learn and you grow, and only through pain do you build yourself up enough to see what you’re really capable of handling. Everybody in the world is a little bit broken, one way or another- it’s how the light gets in.

8. Just because you’d take a bullet for someone, doesn’t mean they’d do the same for you.

9. You’ll find little parts of your family in everywhere you go and everything you do.
When you’re walking through Kroger and you’re in a hurry and you can’t find the olives for the life of you, there’s no doubt you’ll think of your mom. You’ll feel frustrated and nostalgic all at once because you know if she was here she’d laugh and whisper “isle three” and your search would be over. When I’m walking through the mall, minding my own business, and develop a headache because two siblings won’t stop screaming at each other, I’ll think of my siblings, and I’ll probably smile.

10. It’s more than okay to be yourself; you don’t owe anybody an explanation for who you are.

11. You have to stop making excuses for people that continue to hurt you.
Love will make you do crazy things. Your heart will spend every day fighting your head, and it’ll leave you in shambles with nothing but confusion. When the person you love puts you on a shelf for weeks or even months and only talks to you when they decide it’s convenient for them, you HAVE to walk away. You’re afraid because this feeling is so real and so raw and you’re terrified that you’ll never feel it again but you WILL. It’ll be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do in your life and it’ll hurt like hell but toxic relationships are a drug and you deserve better than to be hooked on someone who hurts you 90% of the time; don’t hang on for that last 10%, you deserve more. Walk away, your heart will break but it’ll heal; it always heals.

12. Sometimes the best cure to a bad day is a good cry.

13. You’ll get closer to your little sister, the further away you are from her.
Since the day I moved into college I’ve missed my little sister, but not the way I do now. When the new year rolled around and it was time for me to move back into school, I think it hit me that I’ve only really spent maybe 10 days out of the last five months with her. January has brought me a lot of loneliness and heartache, and I miss her curative laugh. Even though she’s a whole six years younger than me, she teaches me things about myself that I never knew I needed. In the time we spend apart, I feel closer to her than I ever have before.

14. Catching up with friends you haven’t talked to in forever is good for the soul.

15. Sometimes being selfish is the best thing for you. 
The most important thing I’ve learned is that there’s a difference between being selfish because you don’t care about anyone but yourself, and being selfish because you need to love yourself for a change, too. While you’re so busy making sure everybody else is alright, you just might be crumbling. Cancel your plans with your friends for a day if you have to. Lie in your bed all day eating chocolate and reading a book; you don’t always have to go out and please somebody; let yourself come first.

16. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t have an occasional breakdown. There’s no shame in crying in public.

17. Saying goodbye to someone you care about never gets easier, no matter how many times you do it, and that’s perfectly okay. 
As I boarded my flight back home after spending a week with my best friend, my heart was heavier than it had been in months. You’d think I’d be a pro at saying goodbye to her by now, as it’s something I’ve done a number of times before. Yet, I still felt broken. I was 32,000 feet up in the air and only 32 seconds away from tears streaming down my face when I realized that it was okay to feel like this. Of course it’s going to hurt if it means something to you. And she does; she means the world to me.

18. Don’t let the opinions and judgements of others lead you astray from who you are.

19. Occasional “treat yourself” days are a must. 
I’m a broke college student, so naturally I’m as cheap as they come; I typically won’t spend more than $10 on an article of clothing, and even that is a stretch for me. Thrift stores are my best friend. Sometimes though, shopping is therapeutic. Spend a little extra money on yourself; get your nails done, buy yourself a large milkshake instead of a small. Spend $30 once a while to go see your favorite band play, they’ll mend every scar on your heart and leave you smiling for days. It’s the little things in your everyday life that make all the difference in the world. Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it can buy memories, and those are one in the same if you ask me.

20. Saying “Hi” when you pass the people who have hurt you makes you feel powerful and at peace.

21. Take pictures of EVERYTHING. Memories are the most important thing you’ll ever have and are the only thing you’re guaranteed to never lose. 
I used to get self conscious when pursing my love of photography in public. People would stare at me like I was crazy for taking a picture of my brand new fancy shoes. Try not to care what the people in the booth across from you think if you take a selfie with your sister at dinner, do it if it makes you happy; freeze the moment in time so you can remember it for the rest of your life. Document everything. I never want to forget these moments, even if they’re something as small at walking to the park with my dog. Life is short; each and every day is all at once, a mixture of beauty, cruelty, and pleasure, and pictures are proof that you survived each and every one of them.

22. Don’t let the possibility of failure keep you from having a blast.

23. Music has a way of unclogging your thought clouded head. 
Having yet another rough day, my friends and I decided, spontaneously, to go to a free concert held on campus. I didn’t know a single word to a single song but there was something about the sweaty bass and the lead singer’s beach blonde perfect hair that made me feel alive in my own skin for the first time in forever. Music has a way of making you feel infinite during the times when you need it the most.

24. Distraction is the best medicine for heartbreak. Go out and explore the world and you’re guaranteed to fall in love all over again.

25. Talking to your mom really does make everything better for the time being. 
I was sitting in my dorm after having a rather shitty day, and decided to call my mom, just to catch up. As soon as she picked up and I heard the excitement in her voice from hearing mine, I started bawling. There was zero control over my tears as they forced their way down my cheeks. I told my mom everything, and even though we’re miles apart, I felt as if we were together, and somehow, she had made everything more than okay again. You never outgrow your mom.

26. As annoying as little siblings are, they’re a blessing.

27. Writing is one of the most therapeutic things you can do.
As a writing major, I’ve known forever that writing can be remedial. This year, my new year’s resolution was to write a journal entry at least once a day. I’ve made it a habit of mine to make sure I never leave my dorm without my journal, since I never know when a moment of inspiration might strike. As I’ve made it very clear throughout this post, this month was not an easy one for me. It really is amazing how much better I feel after jotting down every emotion I feel, down to the very core of my mind. When you’re not having a good day, pouring yourself into your writing and being as raw as you possibly can, drains all of the pain. All of the hurt that you have bottled up, is now out in the open, plastered to a page instead of etched on your heart, and trust me, it’s one of the most refreshing things you’ll ever feel.

28. There’s something about walking to class in the pouring rain with your headphones blaring the words you’re too afraid to say aloud, that makes you feel alive.

29. In time your heart will begin to conform to its new reality. 
This may sound cliché but it’s something I’ve experienced recently. One week your heart is completely shattered and the next week you can feel it becoming whole again. Humans are meant to feel everything, good or bad, and after feeling comes accepting your fate. It’s been about three weeks since an important part of my world came crashing down and after surrounding myself with loving friends and family, the cliché has been proven; I can feel the broken pieces inside of me starting to stick together again.

30. Discovering new music never gets less exciting.

31. The January Blues most definitely exist. 
Maybe it’s walking to class everyday in freezing cold temperatures when I’d rather be sleeping. Maybe it’s because I stay up until 2am studying biology terms and will probably still end up failing the test because I’m exhausted. Or maybe it’s because I’m missing my mom’s home cooked meals when I’m tired of eating cafeteria slop for the millionth day in a row. I don’t know what it is, but I’m feeling depressed. The sun has only really been out 12 days out of the 31 and I don’t think I can take another day of seeing nothing but grey and white outside my window. It’s nothing serious, January sucks the life out of everyone.


In this one, she’s a princess and he’s just a lowly knight. She loves him, but not enough because there’s someone else. (He’s there in every lifetime too, the thread of his lifeline strewn across theirs.)

And they’re both so duty-bound that’s it’s almost laughable – there are no lengths that they will not go to for the sake of their people.

(But there are no bounds to what he will sacrifice for her.)

In the end, he dies and she lives, hides her grief because her people need her.


They meet again when she’s sixteen and he’s twenty with blood crusted beneath his nails and the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. This time she’s a diplomat and he’s a foot soldier and they sneak kisses beneath the stars, hidden among the trees.

He rarely smiles in this life; his mouth clamped shut and jaw tightened into a hard line. But when he looks at her, with the sun in her hair and her hands on his face - the corners of his mouth twist upward in a smile so sad it’s devastating.

Because once again, this is a lifetime where she cannot be his.

(There is a girl this time, with a chip on her shoulder so deep it sets in her spine. She’s wild and fierce and on the road to destruction without his princess, so he lets go like he always does because he needs her but not like they do.)


In another one, they’re on opposite sides of  the war and she is his weakness. He loves her, as he always does, and she turns herself into a weapon against him.

Her words are sharper than any blade, cutting past the bone and into his soul, shredding him up inside. Her fingers are wrapped cruelly around his heart but he does nothing to resist.

“Hurt me,” he says, rough fingers tight around slender wrists. “I’m already dying without you.”

“I’m already dead,” she’ll sneer and grip harder, ignoring the skittering of what she thought was a decayed heart.

“I’ll save you,” he’ll promise, determination aflame in his dark eyes.

And she’ll want it - for her skin to knit back together and for her life to stop pouring through the cracks in her flesh, to be free of the iron grip of chaos that pollutes and steals from her. She’ll want it so badly that her heart will kickstart and her lungs will fill with all that air she stopped breathing when she gave up rebirth.

But she will rebuff him and it’ll puncture his heart, fill his lungs with blood and desperation and he’ll drown in her oceans.

In the end, he’ll sacrifice this life to make sure she continue to live others and hope, as he faces down the cauldron, that next time they’ll get it right.


They almost do.

He’ll meet a girl with blonde hair and eyes the color of honey in a homey coffeeshop. She’ll look weary, haunted like the ghosts of a past she shouldn’t remember are crawling up and down the ridges of her spine. He’ll offer her a cup of tea and a shoulder to lean on.

She’ll accept and he’ll feel something inside him stitch itself together when she says, “okay.”

And it won’t be quite right because she’s in love with someone else, but she’ll love him too and he’ll think that’s enough.

Until the boy barrels back into her life and tears her up again. And he’ll pretend like his split lip has nothing to do with the guy’s bloody knuckles or that he didn’t break his hand punching a wall instead of a face. And he’ll love her until he thinks he’ll explode from the intensity.

But he’ll move to the sidelines when they come back together and he’ll carve a space for himself in their relationship.

And it won’t be the same, but it’s close enough.

He supposes.


The motel room is small, cramped and the walls are stained a yellow that can only come from too much smoke exposure. The curtains don’t close, the wallpaper is peeling in the corners, and it smells of musk and mold but it’s all he can afford. There’s never been a life of his where he hasn’t struggled for currency.

But she’ll take his hand, tug him through the door and towards the bed and the shame that’s stained his ears red will recede.

“It’s perfect,” she says, when she crawls into his lap.

“Don’t lie, it’s awful,” he’ll laugh and press his nose into her hair.

“Maybe,” she’ll relent and laugh alongside him and he’ll think it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. “But it’s here, for us.”

They don’t get many days, nights, like this but they don’t talk about it. And they certainly don’t talk about the white gold wedding band on her finger or how they have to travel two hours out of town for privacy.

He knows that they shouldn’t be here, doing this, not when she has a husband at home who works too much and he has a girl who expects him to propose but -

There aren’t many times in any of his lives that he allows himself to be selfish.

He hates these lives the most, because they make him feel dirty, rotten, scumlike. They sneak and hide, keep secrets from the rest of the world  and he has to pretend like he’s okay when she leaves after every elicit meeting.

“Don’t go,” he says once. “Stay. Run away with me.

“I can’t,” she’ll reply wearing a smile so sad he thinks his heart might shatter from looking at it. “I have to go home. To him.”

“Don’t,” he’ll plead

“I love him Bell,” she insists.

“You love me,” he points out.

And she says, “but I love him too.”

Then she’ll leave and he’ll smoke a cigarette and pretend like he won’t run to her when she calls again.

(There’s always someone else after all.)


This one’s a life without him.

She spends it trying to figure out what’s missing.


Roles are reversed this time; he’s a king and she’s his lady-knight.

And they’ll steal kisses beneath the moonlight or hidden in the darkness of his chambers. He’ll take her to the garden hidden behind the hedges and profess his love. She’ll respond in kind but woefully reject him when he asks for her hand in marriage.

“I can’t,” she say with tears pricking her eyes and her knuckles white. “I don’t want that life.” She’s lived enough of them, she’s tired of ruling.

So he’ll say, “then we’ll run away,” because he’s willing to give up everything if it means that this lifetime is the lifetime.

“You can’t,” she’ll whisper and kiss him slow and sweet like her heart isn’t peeling apart into wisps the wind can blow away.

“But I will.”

“I know, but your people need you.” And it doesn’t matter that dozens of lives have passed, they’re both so duty-bound it’s absurd and if she asks, he’ll do anything. So when she goes, “stay, be the king they need,” he doesn’t argue.

He marries someone else, a princess from another kingdom for an much needed alliance in a time of war.

And then -

For the first time, she’ll perish before him, lost on the battlefield defending his name.

Lives where she dies first hurt the most.


They meet, they fall in love, she gets sick.

Terminal illness, her heart is failing and she can’t get a transplant because her blood type is rare and there are no donors. Time is running out and he can’t lose her.

He finds out they share the bloodtype, there’s an accident, he dies.

She gets his heart and tries not to cry when she finds out what happens.

“Idiot,” she’ll curse because he left her too soon and she was supposed to go first this time.


He’s smoking on the balcony of the room they have in Rome, elbows propped up on the railing and his back curved as he leans over it. He’s shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his thick dark locks are a curly, tousled mess on his head. Above him, the sky is a dreary gray with the promise of rain and there’s the gust of a cold breeze that sends shivers down his spine.

Behind him the doors are open and the curtains rustle from the wind. There is a woman laying on the bed, blankets pooled around her waist and strands of blonde hair splayed across the pillow as she sleeps. She’s beginning to stir, he can tell, so he puts out his cigarette and drops it in the ashtray that rests on the little glass patio table.

It’s too easy, natural, for him to lift the covers and slide back into bed. Instinctively, she rolls over and presses herself against him, body warm against his chilled skin.

“I hate when you smoke,” she murmurs sleepily, nuzzling into the skin above his ribs.

He chuckles, smooths her hair beneath his hands and ducks his head to kiss her forehead. “I know.”  

There’s a half-packed suitcase by the wall with their clothing spilling out of it and Bell is amazed that they made it here.

For once, there were no hiccups along the road to finding each other and there’s so much happiness and love in him for her that he struggles with remembering a time when she wasn’t a constant. When she wasn’t his north star that he’d follow to the ends of the universe if it meant they got to touch.

There’s an imprint of her that he thinks has always been beneath his skin, written into his bones and dna. It’s hard to picture a life that isn’t this, with this girl he’s utterly smitten with pressed up against him filling the spaces and cracks he didn’t know where there.

Her wedding band glistens when it catches what little sun is peeking into the room and it makes him smile; wide and goofy like he can’t believe this is real.

“You’re my wife,” he says slowly, catching her hand in his kissing first her knuckles then the space below her ring.

“And you’re my husband. That’s what happens when you get married,” she says, a lilt in her tone that’s fond and teasing.

When she kisses him, she cups his chin and pulls him towards her. It’s as forward as she gets and it thrills him all the same.

He presses their foreheads together, dark eyes closing as he breathes her in. She smells like citrus and sunflowers and he thinks he doesn’t want to smell anything else again. “I know,” he says quietly, hands running along her sides beneath her oversized shirt. “I never thought we’d get here.”

Not because he doubted his love for her or her love for him, but circumstance has shown him that it’s not often that he gets what he wants. This time is different  and it makes him feel like he can breath for the first time in…who knows how long.

It’s like crawling out from underground, when all you’ve ever known is dirt and grime and stale air only to find the stars twinkling above you and air so crisp and fresh it stings your lungs.

“I know,” she says quietly, mimicking his position with her nails scraping against his chest. “But we’d get here eventually.”

He exhales when he realizes she’s right. Everything about them has been building towards this moment, this life and after all they’ve done, they’re owed this bit of paradise.

“I got you,” he chuckles, stealing a kiss.

“Yeah, you got me.”


Sometimes, he thinks he misses her in a life but then they bump shoulders, smile at each other across the train with sheepish grins and flushed cheeks. Sometimes, their time together is fleeting and they only get that singular glance where the world appears to halt on it’s axis and the people around them freeze before time jumpstarts and the moment’s lost.

Sometimes, he wonders if that one life was their only happy one, where the planets align and they get that happy ending their heart’s ache for. But then he’ll find her in a book store, a plant shop, or a lecture and all the pieces click together and everything feels like home.

He doesn’t mind, always pushes away the anxieties and fears that they missed their chance, that he should have kissed her harder, longer because there wouldn’t be another one. He keeps going, ignores the ache in his heart in those rare lives where she doesn’t exist, because he knows somehow, some day they’ll find their way back to each other.

They’ve sacrificed enough for the universe and he thinks they’re owed a little happiness by now.

—  give me one more life, because this isn’t enough

1. The time my father lost me at the zoo and took his stepchildren with him. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that’s when I saw my importance. Small, fragile and afraid. A piece of my innocence was lost that day.

2. How my mother used to vent and yank my ears because I was the eldest. I grew up into a man with broken shades of his mother. How she never knew shelter from another man. How he left her to stand in the rain. There wasn’t a specific time, more like my childhood. She was the best of times and the worst of times. She was the first person I uttered ‘i hate you’ and ‘i love you’ to under the same breath. I wonder if she ever heard me. Or if she still does now as I hover over her stack of cards body. She’s weak. She’s sick. I lost a piece of family while growing up with family. I lost a piece of my mother once I came out of the womb. I wonder if she ever meant it when she said that I was found near dumpsters. My inner child that never stops crying, a man not yet grown. My fears have successfully consumed my soul. I think there goes another piece of my purity.

3. Me. The act of who I am. The shouting and the yelling. The unresolved anger. The one that Tumblr can only read, but never see. The way you’d take a crack at my poetry as if it were all beauty without the vein amongst leaves. I am despicable to myself as I am to my loved ones. I’m more toxic than radiation. I wonder if my siblings ever took what I said seriously. I’m sorry, I love your every aspect, but both of you reminds me of father. The confusion, the silent hate, the lostness in being found, the family structure that never was. I see you in myself and that scares me more than anything. I don’t want you to grow up to be like him. Or like me. We aren’t too far apart, but we act more alike than we’d like to admit. I think growing up with two lovely and annoying siblings taught me one thing. Family is less about blood and more about acceptance. I want to hug you. I want to love you. I want to be gentle. I want to be more than a role model. A guiding light of sorts. I know I won’t ever amount to much, but I’m trying. Growing up with both of you; you two held my innocence together. Your annoyance and arrogance shaped my humor for life. You’ll always be my first butterflies. The ones I’d never crush. I love you two, very much.

4. When my last grandparent passed away, I didn’t shed a tear. Not a fucking one and I hate myself for it. It wasn’t because I didn’t love her. It wasn’t because she wasn’t important. It was because I didn’t understand. The way she’d push me to do better. Our language barrier, but she still treated me like a son. She was more of a mother than my own. I did not cry because of her pain. Old age and degeneration of the human body, but it could never harm the soul. When I came out of my mother’s womb, I’m positive that my grandmother gave me a piece of her. She had the most ancient of them all. It was more religious than any bible and more lovely than any poem. She gave my heart and mind the ability to live, to write, and to breathe. I loved you before I even said those three words to anyone. The way you held my hand to cross train tracks, to the way you hated my father for not being there. You understood my pain and I didn’t cry for you because I think you gave me strength to hold them back. When you left, I did not return the piece of your soul within mine. I’m selfish. I’ll keep it forever, you’ll never die. This kid will rock you to sleep, the same way you did for many years. You’ll always live within my mind. You’ll never grow older. You will be mount everest and I’ll be the climb. I’m sorry about the tears now, but you’re a loving memory. You’re also nostalgia, but you’re the best kind because when you held my hand; you kept this child alive.

5. You. The colors of a grey rainbow. The wordless book. The tv channels melted into America. The fan-fiction of fanatics. The superheroes dying in real life. The fake smiles of a baby. The love that was never meant to be. I think I’d always love you endlessly. You don’t get vivid descriptions in this one. Everyone knows about you if they’ve read long enough. You’re mentioned because you showed my heart two things. Tenderness within hatred and savagery within flower petals. I won’t apologize this time. You have my blessing. You already have my heart. I think when we fell into gruesome love, I think I found a piece of many epiphanies scattered into this losing battle poetry. Everyday a new reminder to be better, to hate myself, but to also forgive myself. Every second a memory, hateful and pure, holding onto what was nearer. I see it clearly now. How the flowers aren’t always pretty, but they can be trees. Some flowers don’t crumble in the hands of men. I think that’s you, because when we marched into place you stood your ground. A beauty that became the beast. It was both of us. We will always be the poison Romeo drank. The knife Juliet took. The look in Shakespeare’s eyes as he wrote those lines. We will always be the opposite story of the sun and the moon. The one that Tumblr doesn’t write about. The one, where the moon isn’t chasing the sun. It is the other way around. It’s too bright and radiant within a day, even sunlight needs a break. A shade. An umbrella. A breather. A minty breath. The topless beach walks. The late night serenades. The moonbeam beach strolls. The lovers on the street. Hands we’ll never meet. Poetry we could keep. Lips we can’t kiss. Arms made from silver. Because when the sun takes a break, it was the moon that took over. There is no chaser with that shot. There is no chasing after thoughts. When the sun sleeps, the moon guards. They are beauty and the beast. One must rest, while the other is tested. I loved you then and I will love you now. I loved you yesterday, today isn’t changing. I love you last spring, this spring will be no different. I am out of apologies. I am out of my body. I am out of my mind. I ran out of lives. There’s no more heart to give; there’s this emptiness inside. Because when you love as the morning and lust as the night; the sky knows. The clouds feel something more than heaviness. The rain isn’t wet. The eyes are. We are water after all, maybe that’s why we feel the heartbeats quite deeply. We keep some too close for our own good. Because when we loved each other, I finally found a piece of myself again. Although it may be torn and shattered, it is still mine. You may be gone, but the songs still play. They never stop and neither should I. My poetry will immortalize you as the nightingale that flew with clipped wings. A lover, who everyone has had before. The person that got away. The one that we damaged. The one that we think about at night. Smoke to at night. You are my only conversations with the moon.

—  Five reasons as to why I randomly cry