ameliajeanxxx

[ameliajeanxxx]

oh!

Thinking about this specific deleted Dead Poets Society scene.

Instead of blaming Keating like the others do, he tries to stop Keating from blaming himself for Neil.

He was warming up to Keating's "new way" of doing things. (Which we also see at the end when he takes the Latin class outside)

This man knew that Keating would never harm Neil. He was stuck in his ways for years before Keating came along and Keating proved life can be more than rules and conformity. Keating changed his life too.

But then suddenly the ray of hope and passion is sitting lifelessly in an office.

And as he wants to help, he tries to offer (what he believes to be) consoling words, a beverage and tries to make Keating feel a bit better.

People can change at any age, if they are lucky enough to find the right motivator.

[ameliajeanxxx]

i kinda forgot i had tumblr…

[ameliajeanxxx]

crying

todd anderson and the day he outgrows neil's sweater, realising that he's lived longer and deeper than neil now and even his clothes know it, even they can't cling to todd anymore because him and neil belong in different worlds.

[ameliajeanxxx]

you poor poor soul mateo 😪😪😪

[ameliajeanxxx]

Straight love stories are like: we saw each other and thought they were hot, we kissed and now we’re in love

Queer love stories are like: “He is half of my soul as the poets say”, “I would've loved you if we had more time”, “He was a boy made of fire who'd been turned to frost. He was meant to burn”, “all the people are fake. Theyre made out of metal. But I like you… and that is not fake”, “Ismail Shah, did he forget the color of Isfahan's sky?”

[ameliajeanxxx]

Marie-Helene Bertino

[ameliajeanxxx]

And I wondered what it was like to be chosen. I was never chosen. I was a maybe, a probably, sometimes even a definitely but never the one, never the chosen one.

Unknown

[ameliajeanxxx]

It has been an off couple of months.

I haven’t felt like myself. I don’t like to smile anymore. It hurts my face. It doesn’t feel right. I shouldn’t be able to smile and laugh after what he has done to me. So I don’t. I’ve stopped. I’ve controlled as many things in my life as I can. I control when I smile, when I eat, when I write, when I study, when I sleep, when I wake, when I read, when I walk, when I run. I control it all. But I can’t control what happens in my school. I can’t control how ignorant everyone else is.

Instead, I walk around the school I’ve known for years, headphones blasting music far too loud to hear anything going on around me. No one walks with me. People shove and yell. They bump into me, but they don’t seem to notice. My shoulders tense every time I feel another body collide with mine.

The lockers aren’t better. My classmates push each each other and cover my locker so that I’m unable to walk closer than 3 feet to it. So I stand in the middle of the hallway, as people bump into me, making me stumble all over the place. I wait until the hallway is almost empty. Class has almost started. I open my locker. I leave my phone, and the too loud music, in my locker. I triple check the lock to make sure it’s secure.

Being in class definitely isn’t better. I’m at a table with people I don’t know. They don’t make an effort to speak to me. Instead, they speak through me. They speak to each other. They yell at their friends on the other side of the classroom. I keep my head down to do my work. It limits the distractions to doodles on a page. The teacher starts to talk. I’ve gotten pretty good at looking through them, looking like I’m paying attention, when really, I’m just trying to stop my head from spinning.

I wish I had my music.

Class to class, teacher to teacher, learning to learning. Yet in every class, I think of two things and only two things; my music, and her. Oh how beautiful she is.

Sometimes I see her, in the halls of the school, laughing over her shoulder, smiling at her friends. Sometimes, she spares a glance in my direction. It’s never a long glance. Sometimes I doubt if she even remembers who I am, even though I knew her for 13 years. Maybe she just… forgot.

I think about calling her off, for ignoring me, for only wishing me happy birthday and refusing to spend time with me. Those were the two times we talked this year. I think about our fights, how stupid they were and how stubborn we both were. I can imagine another one between us, only I imagine it as the last…

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“What’s going on with you?” She asks. Her face twists up in disgust.

“I’m just having an off day, okay?” I responded, shaking it off. I turn to walk away, but she calls out after me.

“You know what, recently, every day has been an ‘off day’. I’m getting really sick of it.”

I want to laugh, but my stomach starts to churn. “I’m sorry if I’m not as happy as I used to be, but since you must have missed it, we’re teenagers. That means that the amygdala in my brain is developing faster than everything else in my brain, which is going to cause me to be just a little bit more emotionally unwell. So I’m very sorry if my bad day can affect you, but imagine how it affects me.”

“You need help,” she says quietly. Her expression is still full of disgust.

This time, I do laugh. “You think I don’t know that?” I ask, still laughing. “Do you really think that I don’t know how fucked up I am? I get it, trust me, I do. You’re the one who was never able to see it. All fucking year, I’ve been a cry for help. But you were too busy to notice. All you do is focus on yourself.” I take a couple steps towards her until I’m right in her face. “You know, I was here when you needed me. I was there when you broke up with Gabe. I was there for every fashion crisis. I was there every time you thought you weren’t enough, and you know why?”

“Why?” she asks. She keeps her voice low and laced in revulsion.

“Because I loved you.” I barely managed a smile. “I loved you, and I was trapped in that love. Yet all I could do was admire from afar as you shone brightly, not giving a damn about me.” I feel tears start to swell in my eyes. “Where were you when I needed you? You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

Her eyes glaze over and she clenches her jaw. “You really thought we would be friends forever, huh?”

“You didn’t?” I ask. My voice breaks as I speak.

She looks down at the ground. “Well I’m right, am I not?”

I take a step back, staring at her. I slowly nod my head. “Yeah, I guess you were.” I wipe the tears off my cheek and leave the room.

I leave her behind, not bothering to look back. It was her decision. I tried. I really tried to keep us alive, to stay friends. I was unable to throw away 13 years of friendship. But it was easy for her. She did it and she didn’t seem to care.

Maybe it was different for me. I loved her in a way that she could never love me back. I loved her differently, and I continue to love her differently. She’ll never understand the way I felt for her, or the way I'll continue to love her for years to come. She’ll never understand the numbness that I feel when anyone but she touches me. The way my body tenses up and I suddenly feel like punching the person who touched me. She’ll never understand why I hate going back to the house that she loves so much. She’ll never understand the headaches that I get and how they split open my skull.

And she will never understand that she makes it better. That seeing her face or hearing her laugh can heal all that is wrong with me. Used to heal all that was wrong with me.

Now, the spot in my heart that I had reserved for her is empty, and it has dropped down to my stomach, making my insides spin, making me feel just a little bit less. Because losing her, I have lost a piece of my heart that I wasn’t even sure I had.

I lost the ability to love another as I loved her, because no one could ever compare to her. No one could make me smile at a picture the way I smile at pictures of her. No one could make me enjoy Summer, if she’s not there to enjoy it with me.

She is half of my soul, she is all of my love.

I only wish she could love me as I love her.

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Love.

It’s funny how it works, isn’t it?

-A girl, hopelessly in love with another girl, who could never love her back.

[ameliajeanxxx]

Reblog if I can go on your page and write stupid things in your ask box whenever I'd like to.

[ameliajeanxxx]

Okay, but Todd jumping into Neil’s arms when they won the game 🥹