everyone just loves themselves in that show and (rightfully) think they’re so smart and beautiful and great can i have some of that confidence please
everyone just loves themselves in that show and (rightfully) think they’re so smart and beautiful and great can i have some of that confidence please
I’m sad that I can’t tell my anglo friends to halt dich an deiner Liebe fest because it doesn’t translate well
Frank Turner: There were a thousand auditions you didn’t quite get through, so many masks to wear, so much weight to bear but you were only ever you, you were glorious you.
Also Frank Turner: I’m not Joe Strummer, not Muhammad Ali. Not a teacher or a builder, just uncomfortable me.
Also also Frank Turner: I could’ve been Napoleon, could’ve been Beethoven, I could’ve been anyone but uncomfortable me. I could’ve been anyone but I ended up being me. I could’ve been wide awake, could’ve been what you need, I wish that I was anyone except for just me.
today i cried because i love trees, and because i love bread, and because i remembered a bumblebee that once landed on a sunflower i was holding on a sunflower field on a bad day but seeing that bumblebee made it instantly better.
not everything in this world is cruel and cold. some of it is beautiful and innocent and full of love. a lot of it is to be loved.
My dearest Anna,
Another day has gone by, Thursday. We're slowly but surely approaching the weekend. I hope you've had a pleasant day and that your day wasn't as busy and stressful as mine.
I very much hope you are safe and sound with the current weather situation even more so than usual. That storm is quite something.
I sincerely hope you are doing well, that you're healthy and ideally that you're already peacefully asleep in your bed at home.
Please, always make sure to take care of yourself.
Your well-being means a lot to me, you mean so much to me, Anna.
I would watch over you if I could, but, alas, that's currently still impossible. Although, I do what I can to somewhat ensure you are doing well.
Still, I'm not physically there with you, wherever there may be, so, my abilities are rather limited as of now.
Good night, my Seven. I wish you all the best. You very much deserve it.
I'll keep patiently waiting for you. Don't worry.
I love you, more than you will ever know and I deeply long for you...
Despite all that, because of all that.
I was suffering from the kind of loneliness that never goes away.
BESTIES, here’s the hollywood au’s third part. It’s graphic, so I would be careful in reading it if that ain’t your cup of tea. warnings: smoking, s*x (I don’t want tumblr to ban me) and jealousy.
please leave comments or write to me in asks and dms! hearing your opinion, even through a like, makes me want to keep writing.
as songs recommendation i suggest stay by post malone (thank you @coileoniamoremi) and steamroller by phoebe bridgers (thank you @ricoletta) i'll make a playlist at the end of it akdsjlskaj
what it must be like to be this beautiful?
Matteo crossed his legs, leaning back against the leather car seat. In his book, press tours are exhausting. Not a single part of his job is exactly peaceful, but press tours are literally bone-tiring.
Traveling, following the stars during the interviews, keeping an eye on them and their statements and going to premieres, trying to avoid scandals as he wore three pieces suits, is the literal definition of hell.
It wasn’t as easy for him as for celebrities.
“So, was I good?” Manuel asked as he sat next to him in the backseats, “In the interview.”
He turned fully towards Matteo, “C’mon, I’ve said nothing scandalous and I refrained from asking the pretty interviewer if she wanted to—“
“Thank you, Manuel, for behaving like a common human being,” he interrupted, rolling his eyes.
Manuel looked at him for a moment, assessing him. He could tell he was searching for something on his face and it unnerved him. Making his shoulders tense.
“What’s bothering you?” He had asked putting an arm on the headrest behind him.
Nobody in his life knew him like Manuel.
He let his head fall back against his friend’s arm, burrowing closer to him, searching for comfort.
“It’s this new movie,” he looked up at Manuel, he moved his hands in the air as he spoke, “It’s already giving me problems and I’m… I’m tired.”
Manuel maneuvered him closer, letting him put his head on his shoulder as he caressed his hair soothingly, “You work too much.”
Manuel’s brow lifted mockingly, “You literally never stop.”
Matteo took a moment to think about it. He didn’t want to admit that Manuel was right, but if he tried to think about the last time he got a full day for himself he’d have to go back in years.
When he finished a movie, there was another one waiting. Often he had to work on two of them at the same time, finishing off the promotion of a movie and starting the preparation of the shooting of the next one.
He tried to think about the last time he had a date. An actual date, not an awkward fuck he had fished out of Tinder feeling horny and unsatisfied.
On his job, he had collaborators, of course, but he never stopped. Too anxious to let himself relax. He didn’t like to stop, it would mean being alone. It was scary. What if he stopped and realized that everything he had achieved until then meant nothing? That he had lost his time and energies on something unfulfilling?
“That’s not true,” he tried, his voice sounded small and whining.
Manuel smiled at him, never stopping caressing him, “You should take a vacation.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to go.”
Manuel sighed, letting go of the topic. He wondered if he knew it was a sensible topic for him. He felt ashamed of being known so deeply.
“Tell me about it then, the movie. Who’s there?”
Matteo closed his eyes briefly, “Leonardo, Giorgio, Nicolò and a couple of others.”
“Why so many people?” Manuel asked before stopping, chuckling. He pushed him gently with his shoulder to make him lift his head. He wanted to look him straight in the eyes, “Is this one of those movies? A bizarre copy of Fast and Furious?”
Matteo scoffed, “Well… Maybe.”
“Oh my God! You hate those movies! Why are you working on one?”
“Listen, I don’t swim in gold like you do!” He pushed at his chest playfully, “I need to work for money.”
“Stop it! You don’t have a network like mine but you have the money to treat yourself. You have a villa that looks closer to a mansion,” He took his hand off his chest, holding it in his own, “Beside I have always asked to be your-“
“Stop! Stop it!” He chuckled, taking his hand away and relaxing back against the seat, “You’re incorrigible.”
They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, chuckling and looking out the windows.
“Who’s the villain?”
Matteo’s shoulders tensed, he looked back at Manuel before saying dumbly, “Uh?”
“There must be a villain, right?” He chuckled, “Who plays it?”
Matteo looked back out the window, picking with his nail nervously. He shouldn’t say, he should lie.
But he can’t.
“Sergio,” he says, not looking back at him. He could feel him tense up just by the silence descending on them.
They had fucked once.
And it had been a fucking disaster.
They had been friends for five years when it happened. Matteo was used, by then, to escort Manuel’s conquests out of his apartments and mansion, keeping silent. As always the good man everybody wanted him to be.
Manuel, though, had never once seen one of his sexual partners. He knew that Matteo had dates and fucks late at night. He had also commented on a visible hickey once, his jaw clenched. Matteo had noticed how he had had a hard time keeping his eyes off of it.
He had never let anybody mark him like that anymore. Not visibly at least.
Sometimes when they were both drunk, they would talk about their exes and bad experiences with partners. They would laugh so much at each other, relieved by the fact that those had all been tragic.
The only time they had fucked, though, it had been out of anger.
From them both.
They had been at the premiere of one of their movies. Everything had been fine until Manuel had arrived with an unknown woman at his side.
Matteo had frowned when he had seen them on the red carpet showing off for the photographers. Manuel hadn’t told him he was bringing someone at the premiere. Everything had felt off and Matteo hadn’t liked it.
“Check who is that,” He had said to one of his assistants, “I have never seen her around. Is she a model?”
“No,” she had said looking at her IPad.
“Who is she then?”
His assistant had frowned, reading what was before her twice, “She’s a librarian, she owns a bookshop in the city, near the studios.”
It had feel like a bucket of ice water just fell on his shoulders.
A civilian? A real person with a real life outside of Manuel? Independent and true with values and not yet manipulated by the industry?
Matteo had looked back at them with dread in his heart.
The woman linked to Manuel’s arm wasn’t an arm-candy, she wasn’t a frivolous and empty human being in search of fame and money. She was real, she was normal and she probably was a good person.
Her beauty matched Manuel’s as she smiled awkwardly at the camera, dressed in a beautiful green gown that showed her shapes perfectly. Not too vulgar nor too shy.
Matteo had known almost immediately that Manuel had an intelligent and smart woman in his arms. He could understand it from the gleam of her eyes and from the way she stood next to him. She owned a bookstore, for crying out loud, in the era of online shops and trading.
Moreover, that was a woman. It hadn’t taken long to figure out what she could provide him with. Things that Matteo would have never been able to offer him.
It hurt to remember how his heart had clenched painfully.
What had hurt the most, though, had been the way Manuel had looked at her. His eyes hadn’t been hungry, but admiring. His touches hadn’t been possessive, but careful. He took care of her like she was something precious, searching for her attention as they had stood under the camera flashes, knowing how panic inducing it could feel. He didn’t want her to feel lost and alone.
He had looked at her with the secret soft glances he used to reserve only for him.
As they had approached him, he had felt nauseous.
“Hi,” she had said, extending her hand, “You must be Matteo. Manuel told me so much about you.”
He had smiled brightly at her, his voice shaking and his eyes wet, “Hi!” I can’t say the same about you.
“I’m so glad you finally meet.”
Matteo hadn’t dared to look at Manuel through the whole conversation. He didn’t know what he would have done if he had.
“Remind me,” he had chuckled humorlessly, “How much have you been together?”
“Six months,” months, “We met at my bookstore. He came in to look for a present and we… Well. We felt a sparkle right away.”
He couldn’t remember much of the rest of the conversation.
No matter his nausea, no matter his desire to cry, to shout, he had kept going, making everything go smoothly. As always.
Only when the movie had started rolling he had sneaked out of the room, searching for a bathroom.
He had rushed there, incapable of keeping his feelings in longer. He had bursted in the bathroom letting a pained whine escape his mouth.
He had leaned on the sink’s counter with his hands, bracing himself for the inevitable. He had felt desperate sobs leaving his mouth and tears running down his cheeks. A complete fucking mess.
He had been crying out of fear of losing Manuel for good.
All those years he had thought that Manuel had been the one depending on him, incapable of doing anything without him. But of course that ain’t the truth.
It’s Matteo who would be completely lost without Manuel, his constant and partner through all the stress and shit he had to go through for his job, for his career and for his fucking idiocy.
Flashes had appeared in front of his eyes: Manuel married, holding the woman’s hands as he kissed her at the altar, Manuel with children slowly and inevitably slipping away from him.
He had clenched his hands against the counter harder as he had crouched down in front of the sink, sick with crying. It had felt like hurting all over.
He hadn’t known how to survive of all of it.
Crying your heart out is exhausting and Matteo had always known it well.
It leaves you hollow and carved out, floating softly in a haze of emptiness once you return back to Earth.
That’s how he had felt once he had come out of the bathroom, returning back to his job. As he had accompanied the stars to the after party, he had felt nothing, absolutely nothing at seeing Manuel with his girl.
He had been standing to the side, leaning back against the wall, not thinking and not doing anything, really, when Sergio, Manuel’s costar in the movie, had approached him.
“Here’s our little workaholic, everything’s alright?”
Matteo had looked at him briefly before replying flatly, “Yes, Sergio. Everything’s all right.”
“Are you drunk?”
Matteo had glared at him.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I wouldn’t dare to imply that you would lose your way just because your heart got broken.”
Matteo had tensed, his jaw clenched.
“Because it did broke, right?”
Matteo had shrugged, “That’s not your fucking business.”
“That’s a yes, then.”
Matteo had huffed, “What do you want?”
Sergio had moved closer to him, his body shielding him from the eyes of the other guests.
He had whispered then, “You know, there are other ways to forget about someone that aren’t sulking in the background of a VIP party.”
Matteo looked up at him with a visible frown. Had he heard him right? It couldn’t be.
He had hesitated, just for a small second before reaching out, linking his arms around the other man’s neck to bring him even closer and let their lips clash hard against each other.
Maybe it had been the deafening loud music that had made him do it. Maybe it had been the darkness surrounding them. Maybe Sergio whispering ‘You wouldn’t be the first producer to fuck an actor, you know that, right?’ that had made him reach out and go against all of the rules he had swore to follow for the sake of his sanity.
Or maybe it was the knowledge of having lost the most precious and fucked up relationship in his life.
They had kissed for long moments, Matteo’s back pushed against the wall as Sergio had pushed his leg in between Matteo’s.
He had moaned softly, touching the other man’s neck as he had reached out to brush a hand against his ass.
At that, Matteo had pushed back, flushing red.
“Do you want to go upstairs? We could have fun. No strings attached.”
He hadn’t even had the time to actually think about it when suddenly he’d heard a voice call his name.
Manuel. Matteo had flushed even more, straightening and apologizing silently with a look towards Sergio as he had pushed him back.
“I need to talk to you,” he had said, standing there awkwardly, “Please.”
“About what? Where is she?”
Manuel had clenched his jaw, “She’s going home.”
Matteo hadn’t known what to do. He had desperately wanted to fuck things up, breaking his rules to let himself being fucked by the star of his movie and yet he couldn’t have brought himself to do it.
Not when Manuel was there asking him once again to refuse and to follow him, no matter the changes in his life.
“Go,” Sergio had said, “I’m sure there’ll be another time.”
Matteo had shivered, scared of the fact that a stranger had caught sight of what was between him and Manuel.
So, he had followed Manuel to his room. Not knowing about the mess that they would have caused in time.
“What do you want?” Those were the first words Matteo had told Manuel as he was closing the door behind him.
Manuel had shrugged, “Nothing.”
Matteo had watched him as Manuel had walked towards a table, taking his suit jacket off.
“Yeah, I came to rescue you,” he had said, “As always.”
Matteo had frowned, “What?”
Manuel had kept undressing, tugging at the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt.
“To rescue me?”
“Yes, it’s clear that you were in danger,” Manuel had looked up at him then, “Or better, that your moral values were. Haven’t you always said that it’s immoral to sleep with the star of one of your movies? It’s like sleeping with an employee, right?”
The surprise that had hit Matteo had felt like an electric shock. He had huffed hysterically, “So you interrupted me just to get back at me.”
“No,” he had lit up a cigarette, continuing only after taking a drag, “to rescue you or your moral values. As I said.”
At those words, anger had risen in him at the speed of light.
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.”
Manuel had chuckled, “Don’t you say?”
“Yes, you fucking are. Who gives you the right to intervene in what I do? To rescue me? Do you think me so weak that I can’t defend myself? That I can’t decide for myself?”
“Isn’t it my role, uh?” His voice had deepened rapidly, it had sounded scary and filled with anger, “I defend you no matter what and you come to take care of me whenever I need it. Because that’s what our relationship is, a fucking codependency.”
“Are you crazy? What are you talking about?! When have you defended me?”
Manuel had looked away, shaking his head, “It isn’t the first time.”
He hadn’t known what he was referring to, until the memory of a wild eye, bruised and bloody Manuel resurfaced in his mind.
“When you punched that guy? He had called me a faggot?!”
His gaze steady, Manuel had replied, “And I’d punch him again.”
“It isn’t your fucking role! It isn’t your fucking duty! Our relationship isn’t-“ that fucked up, he had wanted to say, “You can’t punch anyone who gets close to me only because you think it’s your fucking role!”
“And yet you are here,” Manuel had trembled as he had spoken, “You could have been fucking that spanish bastard, but you’re here. Because you believed I needed you.”
Matteo had stilled, confused.
“Are you trying to manipulate me?”
Manuel had swiped a hand through his curls, “Oh God, Matteo! I’m trying to make you realize-“
“That’s why you have brought her here. That’s why you’ve intervened. You’re a hypocrite, a fucking hypocrite.”
Manuel had chuckled, getting closer to him as he pointed at him while holding the cigarette, “No, Matteo. You’re the hypocrite. I am not the one who has refused you-“
“God! I knew you would have brought it up-“
Manuel’s voice had risen incredibly, sounding like a roar to shut him up and make him listen to him, “And then fucking kissed you, because I remember that, you know? I am not the one who threw a fucking tantrum because the other one had tried to move on. I am not the one who tried to take revenge by fucking the other’s costar. A celebrity, a fucking A-list actor to get back at the other, after years of refusing him with that fucking excuse. It would be wrong, Manuel,” he had said, mocking Matteo’s voice, “You’re like my employee! Well, fuck you!”
Matteo had stared, silent. His eyes had filled with tears the more Manuel had spoken. How dare he? How? But he couldn’t speak.
“And fuck you for being so disgusted by who I am. Because the problem here is, Matteo, that you’re too afraid to realize that you’re just like me. A bastard. An asshole. Because I may have hurt you all these years, but you aren’t a fucking saint. You always act as if you’re better than me, better than everyone else, but you’re just like me. And you hate it. Nobody can hurt me the way you do and you know it. All too well.”
At the end of the speech they had both been breathing hard, Manuel out of anger and Matteo out of frustration and guilt. He had done everything to himself. He had hurt Manuel too.
When Matteo thought he hadn’t had anymore tears, well, that was when he had started crying again. Tears had started to stream down his cheeks, wetting his skin. He had kept silent at first, until Manuel’s gaze had turned soft again.
Then he had released a soft uncontrollable sob.
“Shh,” Manuel had said, pushing him against the wall gently and putting his forehead against his own, “Shh.”
He had embraced him, shielding him from the outside and trying to make him feel safe.
Matteo had tried to push him away but he had been too weak, just like his determination. He had only managed to look even more like a child.
Manuel had brushed the tip of his nose against Matteo’s before starting to kiss away his tears on his cheeks. He had kept doing it, kissing his face all over: on the eyelids, on the tip of his nose, on the jaw and finally on his mouth.
Their lips had moved slow against each other, their tongues swiping on each other languidly. Matteo had moaned at feeling Manuel’s tongue so deep in his ow mouth.
Touching and being touched by Manuel had always felt like hot burning fires under his skin, enlightening him to the bones, but in that moment? It had felt like pure absolute pleasure. Like seeing shades of colors shaping into the other correctly, like eating a spoon of your favorite dessert at the end of a stressful day and like getting home. Your real home the one you long for when you’re miles away from it.
“Don’t leave me, please,” Matteo had said to him, crying, “Don’t ever leave me. Or at least have the decency to warn me first.” So I can rip my heart out.
He knew that his eyes shown all the hurt and desperation that he had felt at seeing Manuel with that beautiful woman.
Manuel hadn’t replied, he had only kissed him again pushing him more against the wall. He had started to open his white shirt after making his jacket fall on the floor. He had kissed his jaw, bit his neck, the skin on his clavicles, his chest and his belly scratching him softly with his beard.
Matteo had moaned letting his head fall back against the wall as Manuel had continued his trail of bites and kisses.
Manuel had left himself fall on his knees in front of Matteo making him moan at the sight. Manuel had opened his trousers, never breaking eye contact with him and when he had took his shaft in his mouth, Matteo had nearly gone crazy.
Seeing Manuel kneeling in front of him, worshipping him, had been like a shock. His soft lips wrapped around him had been a beautiful and dirty sight.
He hadn’t made him come. After sucking him, licking him and a small bite against his thigh, he had risen on his feet again, kissing his lips softly as he had taken him up on his arms to bring him to bed.
There he had stripped himself bare, letting Matteo moan and sigh as he had taken his turn in licking his skin, biting him and marking him. He had took his dick in his hand, spreading the precome on it as he had moved his hands.
Neither of them had spoken, for the whole time. They couldn’t, too afraid to scare the other and make him stop.
Matteo had laid in front of Manuel, opening his legs for him to lay in between them. Feeling Manuel’s thick body lay on him had been grounding and satisfying. Why hadn’t they done it before?
Manuel had opened him with lube and his fingers making him whine in pleasure and throwing his head back against the pillow. He’s inside me, Matteo couldn’t stop thinking, Manuel.
When Manuel had entered him for real, with his shaft, pushing inside him as Matteo’s legs were hooked on Manuel’s shoulders he had almost cried. Maybe he did. The pleasure, the pain and the knowledge of having Manuel inside him was too much to cope with.
They had moved in tandem. Manuel’s moans could have been Matteo’s favorite sounds. When Manuel had shifted, holding him close as he had laid against the cushions to make Matteo ride him, Matteo had almost laughed. Happy and scared of how much Manuel knew him. So, when he had started moving, releasing loud cries as he had held himself on Manuel’s chest he had almost come right away.
Manuel’s look had never left him for a fucking second, taking in the sight of him, drinking him in as if he had been his one only chance.
And maybe it had been.
When they had come, Manuel inside him and Matteo on the other’s chest, they had felt both exhausted but never as happy as in that moment.
As Matteo laid next to Manuel, he had held him close, tight against his chest.
Waking up in the morning without a word, without the sight of Manuel and in an empty apartment, Matteo had known that everything had changed.
You are not who you used to be. But who you were, made you who you are.
I had a teen one day say she wasn't sure if she was pan or bi. After I explained them (and put 'confused' on the form as her request), I was like "But you're still figuring yourself out, and you don't have to be stuck to a label. If you want, though, choose the color combo of the flag you like best until you figure it out" half as a joke but her eyes went 😳🤩
I had forgot how swirling it is to be a teenager and then suddenly get access to all these new Identity labels and orientation names and become overwhelmed trying to fit in one. Or ending up with 37 that all feel the best. Deciding a label doesn't have to feel permanent or stringent. There can still be fun in it. I didn't even think of it as an option until that moment I opened my mouth. But she appreciated the fact that it's something she could take in.
ur worth is inherent & ur home life isn’t ur whole life
Za 12h miną 23 lata od kiedy przyszłam na świat.
Wiem, że moje urodziny były czymś niesamowitym dla moich rodziców, dziadków, mojego brata. Zawsze z niecierpliwością czekam na ten dzień. Kocham siebie najmocniej na świecie, i chce celebrować ten dzień co roku, pokazywać swoją wdzięczność za to, że jestem! Że żyję, mam się świetnie.
Kocham swoje życie, swoją rodzine oraz przyjaciół. Nawet nie chce myśleć, jak mógłby wyglądać mój świat bez nich.
Dziękuje Ci życie, za kolejny rok pełen możliwości, radości, smutku. Dziękuje za to, że żyję.
In case no one told you today :
- I love you
- I believe in you
- You're doing great
4. Who are you most grateful for having in your life?
My soul purpose for existing, my rock, my angel, my partner in crime. My baby who stopped being a baby years ago has given me reason to live.
Days before finding out I was pregnant at the age of 15, I had planned my death. I was ready to end my life. I wasn't getting anywhere in school, I felt like a failure. I felt as though I was letting my family down. I was already actively hurting myself and thought why not take things to the next step. Put an end to the sadness. And then I found out I was growing a person inside of me. And my perspective changed. I all of a sudden had a reason to live. I had someone to keep living for. And let me tell you my precious bundle of joy. My moody, beautiful, little crazy person has never gone a day without making me proud. Its like arguing with a mirror sometimes, and I can't exactly yell at them for just being... me. My little clone, my mirror imagine. My reason for insanity and pure sanity. My reason for living. My saviour.
When I saw those two lines appear on that pregnancy test. I knew I would always be my babies protector. And since then, I've worked my damn hardest to provide, to support and to care for them. I've raised this child entirely on my own, and there have been days where I have wanted to rip my hair out. Days where I have thought it better if I weren't here. And then I take one look into those beautiful blue eyes and I remember who they need me to be, and if they need anything from me. Its for me to just be around for them to grow up beside.
Because, for you my love. Life is truly worth living.
I have three parents; my mum, my dad and my step mum. And although we have argued many many times. We have upset each other in ways I wish not to remember. They have always been there for me. Always provided me with support. Always been behind me every step of the way. Although we have disagreements and those disagreements happen quite often, you're my family, the family I would choose. The family I am glad I grew up with.
I have taken on so many traits, some good, some... not so good. But because of them I am strong. Because of them I can see clearly. Because of them I am capable of going alone. Because of them I love with every fibre of my being. I have learnt not to settle with abuse and emotional terrorists. I have learnt that I can stand my ground. I have learnt to fight, I have learnt to survive, fight for what I believe in, fight for those who cannot fight, put those who need cherishing first, give to those not in hopes to receive -but just give with love and have no expectation of anything in return.
We have all done some pretty shitty things questionable things, said some vile words but I never once doubted our love.
This man. Oh my god this man.
I have only known my partner for a year and after a matter of months I knew I was in love with him. I had never been in love before. But I just knew with him. In just a few months he made me see myself differently. He gave me a new perspective on life, myself, why we do the things we do and so many more things I couldn't even list.
I know that even when I am physically alone. He is still there for me. Regardless of my ups and downs. He's there whenever I need to speak, whenever I need to rant, when I need to cry. He's always just a message away. Regardless of how busy he is. He makes time for me. He has my back, always. He respects my views even though he doesn't always understand them. He listens to me and waits for me to stop interrupting him so he can make me see his point of view.
He doesn’t use my faults against me. He doesn't make a big deal of my mistakes and he doesn't flip his lid when I say the wrong thing. He asks me what he can do to help. He asks how we can fix my problem. He offers me perfectly rational advise which I usually ignore he supports me through my low moods, and my god there's a lot of them.
He not only supports me mentally. But he is there when times are hard. He offers to pay for that thing I want (even though I very rarely accept his offers) He gets me the book that he sees and thinks I'll love. He knows what I like, what I love what I probably do need or want. He just knows.
I am grateful for his existence. Grateful that I get to call him my human. Grateful for his terrible jokes and dad humour more like grandad humour. Grateful for his advise and his never ending support, his pretty amazing music taste (although I'll never tell him that), his gorgeous face and his big old arms, his bloody chest hair that I find randomly in my bed.
He knows what he wants in life and he's going for it. And even though it's time consuming and often means placing me at a lower priority level I admire his goals and aspirations.
He is my best friend. He is the one I want to tell all my problems too. He is the one I want to tell about that funny thing that happened. He is the one who's day I want to hear about even though it is full of words I just DO NOT understand.
He deals with my crazy, he supports all that I do and all that I believe in. He is my human radiator and often a second brain for me. He picks me up when I'm down. He apologises for his wrong doings. He holds my hand in public (which is also a god send because I'm incapable of crossing a road safely).
He never wears socks and the smell after wearing his purple bloody trainers offends my nostrils. -But I'd never change a thing about him. He puts himself down constantly but I've never met a man who makes me feel, and I mean really feel. I think he's absolutely gorgeous inside and out. And if he isn't perfect. Then I don't want perfect.
I couldn't face not being with him. I know that realistically if for whatever reason we couldn't be together I would have to deal with it. But it would tear me apart inside. I know I wouldn't recover from it. When we had a separation period, it destroyed me. I know now why we called it quits before. But I cannot explain how glad I am to have him back in my life.
To put it simply... I love him. And for some reason he loves me too.
My best friend
My ride or die. My best bitch. My fucking soul sister.
I met this stupid bitch about 6 years ago?? Under VERY unfortunate circumstances. And even though I wish I could reverse that time in my life so that it never happened. I am so so grateful that I got my girl from it.
She knows me, she's as blunt as they come, she's my chosen family, she has given me a gorgeous god baby and another one is on its way hurry the fuck up by the way there was a time when you were there for me when I had nobody else. You were there for me through the darkness. You put me back together and used all the tape you could find to fix me up. You listened to me ball my eyes out when my heart was broken. And you helped me escape from a horribly toxic situation.
You taught me never to fake who I am. You taught me to never take anybodies shit except yours of course. You have seen me at my best, my worst, you've literally watched me shitting out the McDonald's and we've laughed and spoke all at the same time.
You've rescued me from myself multiple times. You've made me see clearly. You've seen my booooty holeeeee more times than anybody. Ever. You zoom in and screenshot the ugliest pictures of me, making me look like a fucking idiot.
I could go on and on about you and the times we have had. From break ups to nights out.
But I want to thank you for your crazy matching my crazy. It brings me a little sanity that I'm not the only crazy bitch around.
I love ya to the fridge and back. And that will never change. See you in the retirement home hunnnayyyy. We've got this.
I keep trying to articulate my thoughts on my favorite tma characters but the second I try all I can manage is “Georgie!!!!!!!! aaaaaaaa!!!!!!!!”