why did i document this


Day Ten of @snowbaz-feda! Word count: 700

Simon keeps a secret from Penny. Takes place after Watford.  


“I’ve never seen you this obsessed.”

“You’re lying,” I respond to Baz and he laughs. I wish I could laugh, but I’m feeling too panicked to find anything funny right now.

Years ago Penny and I made a promise to never keep secrets from each other. I’ve been true to that promise for a long time—except for the past two months, when I’ve been lying every day.

I only need to keep this secret for another four hours, and right now everything is in the right place. Penny is going to come in, and together we are going to watch a movie on the couch. I made this plan with her two months ago and verified each day this week that she was still available for it.

When I got home today I cleaned the apartment, but when Baz came over he said that it looked spotless. That made me worried, and I didn’t want Penny to get suspicious so I took dirty dishes from the sink and hid them around the apartment. Baz helped me drape my dirty laundry on the couch. He said that the apartment looked great now, and I don’t trust him but I have no other choice because the door is opening. I hate keeping secrets.

“Hello, Simon,” calls Penny with arms full of groceries, “I’m ready for this epic movie night!”

I give her a thumbs up, which she squints at, shrugs, then asks “So, what movie are we watching?”

“Um, I- I don’t know, we can-” Fuck, I forgot to get a movie.

Penny dumps the grocery bags on the table, unleashing a mountain of popcorn and candy. She isn’t looking at me when she asks, “Simon, what’s up with you? Did you drop out of school? Did Baz propose?”

“What! No! Why would you think– he didn’t– not that!”

Baz interrupts me, “No Bunce, our Simon is still, regretfully, a bachelor. Here are our movie options.” He pulls out an assortment of DVDs from his leather backpack. Baz must have known that I’d forget.

I’m not sure what movie we end up watching. It’s something scary that has Penny and Baz shouting at the TV, while I stoically eat a bag of sour patch kids and wait for time to pass. The third movie in the series is playing and they’re debating what type of death I’d receive if I were in a horror film when, finally, the doorbell rings. Penny screams and throws popcorn at the door.

“Who could that be? Penny, you should answer the door,” I tell her, making sure my voice is flat and nonchalant. She sticks out her tongue and throws popcorn at me, but stands up anyway.

It feels like it takes hours for her to reach the entry way, while I try to discreetly trail behind her. When the door opens and she shrieks Micah, I start to feel the first threads of relief, but the secret isn’t over. I peek at both of them embracing and see Micah pull away from Penny. She’s asking him a million questions, but instead of answering he grabs her hands and drops to his knees. Thank Merlin, I think. 

Micah is holding a ring, and the relief I feel is so great that I start crying. I hear sniffling behind me and turn to see that Baz is crying too, but I don’t think that this secret was burning a hole in him the same way that it was me. When I turn back, Penny and Micah stumble into the apartment together.

“How did you get here?” Penny asks him again.

“Simon helped,” Micah says.

“Simon! You kept this from me!”

“I’m so sorry, but I’m so happy for you, but I’m so sorry” I would keep cycling these phrases if she didn’t barrel into me with a huge hug. Baz piles into the hug soon after (he’s more emotional about this than I predicted) and Micah is close behind him. Everyone’s crying, but I think I’m crying hardest out of all of us. I’m happy for Penny, but I’m happier for myself. I can’t handle keeping a secret like this ever again.

  • what i say: i'm going to write for a bit.
  • what i mean: i'm going to spend a couple hours getting in the headspace where i can write and then maybe i'll type a few paragraphs.

I used to have this problem with sharing my writing because I thought it was “too girly” and “emotional” and corny, but what is wrong with that? Why did I think it was so wrong to feel those things? Why does society look down upon a woman writing about her emotions, of how she is sad, or mad, and depressed, or upset with her life. Why does society make it seem as if it’s stupid and naive for a woman to document and express what hurts and aches?

Why did I think it was drastically weak to express my emotions? Having feelings do not make me weak. Writing about them, only makes me braver.

—  Ming D. Liu

anonymous asked:

Why did you decide to document memes?

Honestly… I don’t even know… I just like memes, so I thought it would be good to have a meme blog where I collect them, but then I thought even better would be to document them, and my friends decided to help out, and now we’re documenting memes, and I contemplate what my life has come to.