Do you miss Tammy sometimes?
All the time.
How to put this as blatantly as possible.
When my parents sat me down to explain the divorce, when my father approached me with tender thoughts of suicide, when my closest friend lost her memory of the past half year and I watched one of my closest friends, equivalent to a brother, who was dating her drop into such pain, and when I finally saw my grades my emotions were
I suppose the goal all this time was to achieve such a peak of ambivalence. Perhaps it all hit too swiftly, like a wave that swallowed up my entire way of life within 1 month.
As a double edged sword, I don’t feel the joy, the pity, the forgiveness. I just simply don’t; and as I spoke of what has occurred in my life to a friend, I realized:
My biggest fear is not feeling anything, anything at all. When your father is crying to you, when your brother is crying to you, when everything around you just chimes to a waning silent peak. Now I find myself shamelessly staring my fear right into it’s intrepid beady eyes, as it wears its renowned sinister smile.
Advice to my little sister about boys. (via brvnd-nswvn)
Vibrating through whatever shambles remains of my confidence, thoughts, and ambition is the gentle gust of your voice.
Every single time I’ve received a call from you, I was a fool to call back only to hear the repeated, "I accidentally called you."
Despite the echoes of Divorce, two homes that anticipate nurturing broken childhoods, my focus veers into complete collapse when I hear the promised curiosity of your familiar "hello?"
The papers are laid out on the table, the law is involved in deciding who keeps what; the luggage is in the corner, one of them is leaving “temporarily”.
My grades hold as steadily as my focus on medical school, the support from my parents is individual whenever their minds are absent enough to give me a God-forsaken generic nod, and I’m trying to hold my brother and sister so damn close.
How can I pull this family together if I can’t even figure myself out?
I don’t have the fucking courage to speak up, but I’d do anything to have the familiarity that you were by my side, fierce and aggressive with any decision I had to make.
I’m just tired all the time.
But I really hate goodbyes.
I was a God-forsaken fool for taking Chemistry and Physics at the same time during a 5 week summer session.
Day two and the work load is equivalent to that of 1 week of lecture already.
Guess I’ll be going surfing soon; trying to ride these curves, yo.
Some things are better left unsaid (via dearalexandra)
Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.
You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.
You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.
You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.