“If you want flashes and particular experiences of romantic love, read novels. If you want to understand this central quality of human nature to its roots, read Why We Love.”
—Edward O. Wilson
The Other Side of the Mountain (1975).
Young ski champion Jill Kinmont is left paralyzed after a tragic skiing accident. Her best friend suffers the same fate after contracting polio. Jill must slowly put her life back together again with the help of those close to her.
This is such a typical melodrama that it veers on parody in many instances. The story is overwrought, dated, saccharine and generally just a lot, and in that sense, it’s actually almost hard to talk about. It feels like such a product of it’s era and almost a precursor to the melodramas that would sweep up in the eighties and nineties. Still, it’s compelling enough, albeit in a way that’s often a bit cringey. 5/10.
(male) Seagreen and Golden Rod moments together along with their Siren Color Combo fusion together ❤❤❤❤ I’ll draw more of these with other colors later❤❤❤❤😊🤞
ADÁN Y EVA
Adán significa “Tierra”,
y Eva, “Vitalidad”;
juntos son la Libertad
que nos da el Cielo en la Tierra,
la Verdad
que separados se entierra
para traernos la guerra,
la ira y el desaliento,
porque nos falta el Aliento
que nos anima en la Tierra.
Jesús María Bustelo Acevedo
Ses yeux.
C’était un vert forêt qui s’habillait de l’or dont se couvrait les rois. Un vert forêt qui se rajoutait des pigments d’auburn. Ils étaient verts, ses yeux. Mais dans leurs tréfonds parfois se cachaient des grains de rouge, de jaune, de brun. Des couleurs à rendre l’automne jaloux.
Pourtant quant elle le regarde alors qu’il est penché au dessus d’elle, alors que ses yeux sont bercés d’inquiétude, elle ne reconnaît aucune des couleurs dans lequel elle s’est noyée auparavant. Pas une trace de vert, pas une trace d’or, aucun pigment. C’est un gris de tempête, un gris qui couvre les jours de pluie qui la regarde. Il y a une flaque d’eau et là où auparavant demeurait l’or, il y a du bleu. La couleur résonne.
Bleu, bleu, bleu.
Ses mains à elle trouve les joues du jeune garçon, elle le caresse et le regarde, obnubilée par le bleu. Es-tu si triste pour laisser la couleur de tes yeux s’altérer?
Le vert est sensée vivre, l’or est sensé être riche. Et à regarder ce bleu qui parle la tristesse, à regarder le gris qui berce dans la mélancolie, la douleur semble lui déchirer l’intérieur. C’est ses yeux, ses yeux —
Sourit, elle supplie. Je ne veux pas voir de gris, je ne veux pas voir de bleu. C’est une prière silencieuse. Retourne moi dans le vert, laisse moi me noyer dans la vie qui baignait tes yeux.
Word Count: 3,715
“You’re sure you want to come with me?” I asked, for probably the hundredth time. But considering we made it to Heathrow and were going to board the flight to Atlanta, Georgia, which then we’ll board our last flight to Iowa, I knew what his answer was. I just find it crazy he would want to travel to the Midwest and see where I grew up.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that time,” Tom replied, gave me a peck on the cheek before he went ahead to get through the security scan. We set our carry-on bags in our bins on the conveyer belt.
I watched him as he went so easily, smiling at everyone, and even shook hands as he said, “Thank you! Have a great day.”
“Hey, it’s your turn to go love.”
I turned around at the abrupt voice and was met with some pretty blue eyes. She didn’t have a look of annoyance, yet I found myself saying, “Sorry.”
I waited for my queue to get into the scanner. I raised my arms out like an airplane and watched the green light flash back and forth.
“You’re good, miss.” The security guard signaled for me to leave.
I nodded. “Thank you.” I slipped into my black, leather, slip-on sneakers and rested one strap of my backpack on my shoulder with my winter coat in my other hand. We were going back during Janurary, which was very much still winter time, but there’s the chance of warmer days in the 30s with the sun out. It could never be fully predicted.
Tom waited for me to reach the other side; not that I was far behind. I poked his chest lightly. “You’re so annoyingly delightful sometimes.”
He made a pretend offended face. “Oi! That’s not fair to say.”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s pretty accurate.”
… I think about how Horobi is tol and Fuwa is smol and therefore the perfect size for cuddles and I die.
Finished: 14/11/2020
The Unhoneymooners by Christina Lauren
“I can appreciate my body in a bikini and still want to set fire to the patriarchy.”
Rating: ★★★★☆
Summary:
After an unfortunate incident at her twin sister’s wedding causes the bride and groom to miss out on their honeymoon, Olive finds herself on her way to Hawaii with her worst enemy, the groom’s brother. Both not wanting to waste a free holiday, Olive and Ethan agree to be civil but separate, that is until Olive’s new boss shows up at the resort.
Imagining you being a part of my family is the most beautiful kind of pain
My brain at 8:43 P.M. on November 29th, 2020
I love the romance trope when the LI keeps calling you by nickname in different language, and after going further with the romance, they reveal you the real meaning of the word… and it’s something beautiful *faints dramatically*
Dear Diary,
I hate the concept of dating. Like what’s the point of having feelings for someone when you get so caught up in the moment, that you end up sad one day because that person is just going to disappoint you? As in they’re just going to break up with you, and you’re left with the feeling of sadness. That you just end up never forgetting about them after time passes? Yet there can be pain that still deep down? I dunno… maybe I am just thinking too much over the concept of dating when a person has never showed me affection/love/or liking towards me before. I wish I could have that moment, when a boy would sweep me off my feet. Ya’ know?… that cheesy romantic type of stuff you see in movies. Even though it sounds cheesy, it sounds way better to develop feelings for a person, than to be sad. That’s why I love laughing, it is way better than to be sad. But I had dreamt last night over being asked to prom.
Here is the thing, I never went to prom in High School.
I never went to prom, and no boy had ever took interest in me during High School. So I never dated anyone. The dream was weird, because I remember the boy from High School who has asked me…which I never talked to before. The dream was overall strange, but I only mentioned it since I had looked up the meaning behind it. That the meaning for a person to be asked to Prom, even though they are past the age of attending Prom - is that they are wanting romance in their life.
I find the meaning to be sad, because I have always been the type of person that wishes to meet a boy to sweep me off my feet. But I just end up meeting boys that disappoint me in whatever way possible.
November 29th, 2020
Diluc x Aether (Dilucther)
If romances were allowed in Genshin Impact or “if you haven’t an opportunity in canon, do it yourself in fanon”
