I wish I could give each and every one of you gifts. You certainly all deserve one! (I hope that one day I’ll be able to have a give-away)
Your gift to me was almost 50k followers in only a year (this month is when I started my account in 2014 I believe!). For that, I am incredibly grateful. I couldn’t ask for sweeter followers and friends ^.^
I hope that you all have a lovely holiday season. I do know, however, that the holidays can be difficult for some. They are for me as well. If you need to talk to me, please message me! I’ll try to help how I can!
If you also want to simply tell someone how your day went (for better or worse), my door is always open :)
Remember to spend this holiday doing what you love with who you love. Be it your family, your pet, or your favorite stuffed animal. Focus on the love you have in your life and live in the moment, as that is all you really can do. Let yourself forget about your burdens and problems, even if only for awhile. Enjoy yourself!
And if you can, I recommend helping someone out this holiday (be it a charity, neighbor, anything is worthwhile!), as I know it would help someone have a wonderful day who might not have otherwise c:
It had been a rough past couple of months, to say the very least.
It wasn’t helping that 5 Seconds of Summer are bigger than ever, or that their second album was four days from being released, or even that my boyfriend was being uncharacteristically distant; the hardest part of the last two and a half weeks was the fact that I was keeping a very big decision from said boyfriend, Luke.
I told myself time and time again that I would tell him about the job offer in New York as soon as he got home, but I couldn’t, not wanting to add on additional stress or cause another, more serious fight.
There hadn’t been a week that went by in the last two months without there being some type of dispute between me and Luke, each week bringing an even worse outcome. Even though I wanted to deny it, it felt as though he was beginning to slowly but surely lose interest in me and the relationship we spent so long trying to perfect. I tried to blame it on the stress and the nerves, but I couldn’t lie to myself well enough; the only time I could catch a glimpse of the boy I fell in love with was when he was rocking out on stage, flowing with passion, and living his dream.
Thinking about it now, as I sat alone in mine and Luke’s shared bedroom, at 11pm waiting up for him to get home from the bar with the boys, I began to get angry. Why should I give up what I’ve dreamed of since freshman year when he isn’t even trying to keep our relationship going? Why should I spare my dreams to keep this boy happy, when he wouldn’t do the same for me? Why am I trying so hard to keep this stupid fucking relationship alive if he doesn’t give two shits about us anymore?! I hadn’t realized how long I spent thinking about it, but when the front door creaked open, I glanced at the clock and it read 2:13. My anger flared, along with my confidence. Taking a deep breath, I march down the stairs to Luke, ready to tell him about my plan to move to New York, with or without him.
I turn the corner into the kitchen to see Luke with his back to me, bending down into the fridge.
“Luke?” I call, hating how my voice shook, hating how nervous I was for this conversation, but mostly hating how no matter how badly I wanted to, I could never hate him.
He ignored me, but I rose my voice, wanting to believe that he just didn’t hear.
“Luke.” I try again.
He turned around, pausing to give me a quick once over, then made his way over to the kitchen counter, pulling out his phone in the process.
My anger and confidence was growing again, but so was my frustration with him and his inability to give me his undivided attention. I knew this wasn’t a good thing, because for some reason my tear ducts and frustration were wired to work together, and crying was not something I wanted to do if I was going to achieve the ultimatum I’m ready to give.
“I was waiting for you, babe, we need to talk.. and it’s pretty important.” I try to sound reasonably persuasive. He glanced up, waiting for me to continue.
“Well.. I guess I should just come out and say it,” I say, trying to control the quiver in my voice. “I got a job offer!” I finish. I see that he’s relatively interested now, and felt just a little relieved.
“That’s great, (Y/n). Where at?” he said, glancing up from his phone before returning his attention back to the screen.
This made my relief fall through and mean relatively nothing. “It’s actually a paid internship at that college I’ve always loved.. ya know, the one in New York.”
The mention of the big city made his head snap up, because he knew which college you were talking about, the one that was miles and miles away from our shared apartment in LA.
“Well, you’re gonna tell them you’re not interested, right? We can’t just up and move, (Y/n)! The boys and I.. our album.. you can’t just expect us to leave because you got offered a stupid job!” Luke’s voice rose with every word, and if I wasn’t so angry at how unfair he was being, I might have actually been a little scared.
“You’re not even gonna let me talk this out aren’t yo-”
“(Y/N), I TOLD YOU! WE CAN’T JUST LEAVE! SO IT’S EITHER YOU GO OFF TO NEW YORK ON YOUR OWN, OR STAY HERE AND NOT BRING IT UP AGAIN, GOT IT.” Luke booms, cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.
The shock crossed my face almost like it was a tangible thing. I can’t believe how this had turned out; wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be making him choose? This wasn’t how the situation was supposed to be happening!
I stood there for exactly one second, deliberating which fiery comeback to use of the many I had ready, when I just decided to give the blonde-haired boy a blank stare, turn on my heel, and take the stairs two at a time, striding into the bedroom and heading straight for the closet. I pulled out my duffel bag from the top shelf, patting at the top to get the layers of dust off before zipping it open.
By this time, Luke had caught up to me and was standing in the doorway, not at all sure what to do. He stood there with wide eyes, and when I started ripping my clothes out of the drawers and off of the hangers, he started to panic.
“Baby, what do you think you’re doing?!” He choked out, with an expression that would have broken my heart, if I hadn’t had faced your back to him. Although, it wasn’t the look on his face that stopped me in my tracks, but the sound of his voice cracking at the end of the sentence that made me stop and turn around slowly and carefully, trying to keep my cool.
“You honestly think I’d choose you after all the shit you’ve said and done to me these past two months?! You’re outta your goddamn mind if you think I’m stupid enough to hang around any longer and deal with this anymore!” I yell, swinging your arms in the space between the two of you. “You don’t even try anymore, Luke! How dare you tell me to leave my dreams behind, just so I can stay here and watch you live out yours! And on a side note, you haven’t spoken anything remotely nice to me in weeks, and when you did it was followed by some stupidly sarcastic remark that canceled out the whole thing! When was the last time you told me you loved me, huh?!”
That comment had stopped his response, because thinking about it, he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those words.
“Right,” I scoffed, “that’s what I thought.
“So please, baby,” I sneered the nickname, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t walk out that door and never come back.” I spat, my heart twisting slightly when Luke winced; I was never able to handle seeing him in pain.
So much for keeping my cool; the tears were already streaming down my face, along with the mascara that had adorned my lashes so many hours before that I had been too lazy to take off. I swiped my fingers beneath my eyes, regretting not taking off my makeup, and grabbed my bag. I stood there, waiting for Luke to say something in an attempt to save the crumbling foundation of our relationship, but I was only awarded with his silence.
My anger was through the roof at this point, and I couldn’t stand to stay in that stupid house for another minute. I pushed past Luke, half hoping he’d grab my arm and pull me into his chest, only to be let down. A fresh wave of tears started again as I grabbed the keys to my car and made my way out the door.
Throwing my things into the passenger seat, I backed out of the driveway, carefully controlling my gaze from wandering to the park across the street. I searched the radio until finding a country station, mine and Luke’s least favorite genre, and turned the volume all the way up, in hopes of blocking out the thoughts and feelings that were threatening to drown me.
a/n: hi gooooise :-) so idk what this was but eh at least i wrote something! it has literally been months since my last pref but anyways i hope you guys like this! let me know if you guys want part two so i can post it by tomorrow :-) love you fammmm <3
I hide imperfections behind the precision of the application of my eyeliner; the eyes are the windows to the soul and my windows are murky, stained with splattering teardrops. You can feel the cracks in my soul when you run your strong hands over it and believe me when I say poking my mind might bring the defense mechanism of sarcasm to the foreground. My voice screams rock ‘n roll while my heart is most at ease playing piano melodies in the chambers where love resides. Sometimes I fool myself into feeling, not realizing it is not the true thing - but we all want something, don’t we? Do not pick flowers for me, hear me? Blindfold me and take me for a walk on some Sunday through a rose garden, let my senses tell me where we are. Don’t wait for me to follow - we can both lead, do our own thing and still be together. Love does not mean the loved becomes the lover’s belonging, it is sharing every moment of everything.
Please remember that even when my heart sings and my eyes dance because of our romance:
I hide imperfections behind the precision of the application of my eyeliner.
I hadn’t noticed how much I depended on my dreams, until they stopped. As long as I can remember, sleep has never eluded me – and it still doesn’t. Only those temperamental visions have ceased to be. More and more, I’m beginning to wonder if they ever were there at all. Part of me thinks I may have just made them up to seem normal.
But that can’t be right.
The first time it happened, the experience was wholly disorienting. I went to bed, closed my eyes, and then heard the alarm. Six and a half hours had vanished in an instant. No gentle fade to slumber, and certainly no internal clock keeping time through the night. It felt as though my entire existence hit the pause button until the beeping of my side table clock tore me transported me into the future.
That was weeks ago, I think – and I’m no closer to understanding why.
This was my new reality, and until last night, I thought I could live with it. My new routine, though odd, hadn’t affected my work, or my life outside of the home. I say ‘last night,’ but technically this was two nights ago. I went to bed and woke up an instant later to a score of missed phone calls. Several messages from my boss painted a picture of an awol employee leaving the construction crew in a lurch for no good reason. The last message said to come by the office at my earliest convenience to pick up my final check and a couple dirty coffee cups I had left in my locker.
I was confused, to say the least. In all my adult life, I’d never abandoned a job. I thought, how could they think that I would so such a thing? My answer came when I wiped my swollen eyelids of the grime that had built up over the night. My phone rang out an old 80’s hairband guitar solo and I picked it up. What could Lisa want this early?
“What’s up, sis.” I asked.
“The fuck do you mean, what’s up? Don’t act like nothing happened last night!”
I got up from the bed. “You seem angry, Lisa.” I said, nonchalantly. Trying to defuse the tense situation.
“You’re damned right, I’m angry. What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“Listen, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve got other shit to deal with. Apparently my boss picked a god damned Thursday to fire me and make up some bullshit about missing work.”
“Friday? It’s Saturday, dipshit. You’re 32 years old. I thought you’d know how a calendar works by now.”
I stuttered for a moment. “Friday?” I finally made my lips move. “That’s impossible.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t even remember yesterday?”
“I remember Wednesday perfectly well. God, this must be some kind of fucked up joke. Lisa, please stop fucking with me. I don’t know how my boss got you to participate, but just stop it now.”
“I’m not fucking around, Bill. You came over to the house last night, and stood on the front lawn for, I don’t know how long. When I saw you through the blinds, you were clearly drunk, or high, or whatever the fuck you were last night.”
“I, I came to your house?”
“Try to follow along, fucker. I’m trying to tell you something.” Lisa was usually so calm, collected. I couldn’t understand why she was yelling at me like that. “So when I saw you, I opened the door to call you inside. Oscar ran by me before I could stop him, and came out to greet you. Are you remembering now?”
“Oscar, your dog.”
“Yes, my prized Labrador Thoroughbred. The son I could never have. My fucking dog, you fucker!”
“I don’t fucking know, asshole. You grabbed him by the collar, hard, and walked away. Poor thing yelped and pulled back, but you just kept dragging him. I ran after you but… It was like you just vanished into the shadows. I’ve been out all night looking for him, and calling you. Least you could do when you steal someone’s dog is to answer the god damned door when its owner knocks.”
I didn’t know what to say. As far as my brain had been concerned, I had blinked and a whole day had passed. I sat down. “I’m so sorry, Lisa. I don’t remember any of this. What can I do?”
“I’m coming over, and you’d better have my god damned dog or I’m calling the cops.” I heard the familiar click of a phone call ending.
I shook my head for a minute, rubbed my heavy eyes and made my way to turn on the bedroom light. Quickly the light of the room flooded out every inch of shadow. My eyes struggled to adjust.
I wish they hadn’t.
Oscar, Lisa’s dog, splayed out like a gutted fish on far side of my king sized bed.