Happy 22 to the best big a leetle like me could ever ask for! I can’t believe I haven’t even know your for a year I’m so glad were so close as I know I could tell you anything and you’d be weird with me always! can’t wait to celebrate! So much big little 1 to 1 love! Mwah!!! 😘🎉🎈@katie_schik
Grab the bottle of whiskey and meet me by the river.
I want to return to a time when
you cried tears that tasted like his sweat
and I chugged from the bottle
to burn my desire
to dry your cheeks with my lips.
When we were five years old, we held hands
as we danced around the playground.
At fourteen, you gave me a friendship necklace-
a heart with a silver scar down the middle.
One half read “Best”, the other “Friends.”
Now, you make me constantly nostalgic for a time
when I could play off touching you as innocence.
When you threw up his name
and asked me what I thought about love,
I fingered the engraving on my necklace
and wished I could tell you:
it’s feeling “everything”,
even though the engraving reads “friend.”
It’s cursing his name not because you moaned it,
but because it’s become
a way for you to justify love’s inexistence,
even though I can feel it stabbing me
when I look at you.
— The Sun in July | Lora Mathis (via orangetreess)
how can you say, youve never loved me
when youve counted every freckle
numbering them as your fingers race from my rib cage to my back
and then come the clusters
you count them as if they would disappear
how can you say you don’t know me
when you’ve memorized the number of seconds it takes me to fall asleep
when you can remember exactly what I was wearing on our first date
when you know what I will forget
"yes, we’ve met before"
"yes, im happy"
"yes, i love you"
"yes, ill be here"
how can you say you don’t miss me
when you cradled me so carefully at night—
when you listened to me breath on your neck every time i fell asleep on the bus
when you can look at boots the same way because they remind you of me
the freckles, the faint ones, the ones you have to really look to find.
the freckles, the small ones, the ones you only see when you squint
the freckles, the hidden ones, the ones you only see without a shirt
the freckles, my freckles, the ones you on see when you see me
don’t you dare say those things, when you know the clusters, the big and the small, the circle and stained, the ones that come out in the sun, my “pants are too low” freckles, you know.———you’ve counted,— numbered—and connected every last one.
every. last. one.
it has been some time
tonight i went to BU film society mostly because a dear friend is now the president and I wanted to support him, and because im jealous of his passion. I mean hes in SMG with me, and I think he is also a finance major but he just loves movies, and film and not the way a cool kid would love them, its really genuine, its inspiring—but im not gonna spout off and tell him that I admire him admiring moving and I wish i could have that passion and interest in something creative, compelling and inspiring. its just awesome.
another thing that ive noticed is just awesome—which as an adjective does not get enough credit and for lack of sounding very very Bostonian at a time the sox are in the world series, living, breathing, learning in Kenmore is WICKED awesome.
i digress, although life at this moment is quite the experience. quite the word has been on the brain and ive been using it quite frequently.
another wicked awesome thing, is listening to best friends have a conversation, feeling how well they know eachother, being there to witness it and how people can just get lost in conversation and memories almost rudley except its not rude because theyre not meanng to exclude you theyre just so excited about memories and people have to respect that because if it was your best friend youd be so happy and excited too—if it was this type of conversation.
so the film was trainspotting, which i have already seen but never ceases to make me feel things, and think and cringe and smile and sort of fall in love with a drug addict, as bad as that sounds i want to love the main character, but real love. like i would probably date him and want to be there for it al—thats kind of fucked up. and the movie makes it so you fall in love but know its messed up—its quite(see) remarkable —falling in love with a drug addict youve never met from a movie. powerful stuff. and i realized, there are some real genuine people who i should be exposing myself too. some real GDI’s
i also decided that i think ive been letting people really get to me. and im sublte ways but real decisive ways. im not to proud or happy about that.
well i did actucally tell my friend, and now im not writing anytmore
spelling has always been a weakness of mine