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[flintpunks-mind]

the man who owns and runs the thai restaurant in my town knows me by name. he is one of the kindest and most thoughtful men i know. i started ordering from his place back in january, which was when i got my fibromyalgia diagnosis. back then i was using a walker, had limited mobility in my entire body but especially my hands, and was very visibly in pain. i always ordered the same thing: yellow curry with no meat, potatoes and carrots only (i have texture and other dietary issues). he always made it a point to make sure i could get out the door and carry the food safely. he had his workers package the food so that it was easier for me to open. as i kept coming back and i told him a little bit about my health status, he would always encourage me to keep going. he told me about how the spices he used were good for inflammation and began to edit the recipe just for me so that spices that were even better for fighting inflammation were used. he’d give me extra portions and despite the fact that i would tip every time, i realized later that he never charged my card for them. as time went on and my condition began to get better, especially with the help of a physical therapist, he would make encouraging remarks and tell me how happy he was for me. the day i came in without my walker, he practically jumped for joy, and despite my insistence, he gave me my meal for free that day. i continue to make progress with my conditions and i continue to go to the thai place. this man who does not know me personally and who i hardly know anything about is one of my favorite people. it’s interactions with humans like these that make loving life easier. and his curry really does help my chronic condition. it’s comfort food taken to the next level.

[flintpunks-mind]

Whenever I find out that someone has someone in their life that they were close with pass away, I always make a point to ask them to tell me some of their favorite memories of them. I ask them to tell me their favorite stories about that person, or what things they really liked about them. In exchange, I give them a story or two about my brother who passed away. It's a little trade between two people, giving each other pieces of memories of people who are no longer with us.

I make a point of doing this because I think it's the best way to keep someone alive. Something about that concept of "you die twice; once when you take your final breath, and again when people talk about you for the last time". I'll never meet this person you've lost, but they exist to me now in the form of what you've told me about them. My brother isn't alive anymore, but he lives on in my mind and now yours too as someone who did exist and have some impact on this world while he was here.

They no longer live, but they can live on in the form of stories and memories shared with others.

[flintpunks-mind]

I think one of the hardest parts about loss is that the more time that passes by, the more you wonder how things would be if they were still around.

It's been 10 years, and I still often wonder what it'd be like if my brother was still alive. What kind of person would he be? I've changed so much in 10 years, I wonder what he'd think of me. What kind of memories could we have created together. What it could've been like to have late night talks with him about stuff I couldn't talk to anyone else about. If we'd love the same movies/games/books like we used to when we were younger.

There's too many "what ifs" that will never have an answer. So instead of focusing on the "what ifs", I try to focus on what I do believe would be true.

I see a meme and think about how he'd certainly get a good laugh out of it. I tell my best friends that if my brother were still around, he'd definitely like them. When someone treats me bad, I think about how he'd talk some sense into me about not letting myself get treated that way.

Despite it being 10 years of him being gone, I keep him alive in these little ways, I think.

[flintpunks-mind]

[flintpunks-mind]

“the meaning of life is love” if you mean romantic then no, I am walking away from your definition and mind that values romance as the single pillar of life. if instead you mean the devotion of a friend to knowing the recipe of your favourite soup, the never-ending patience of your fingers scratching your pet’s itchy fur in just the perfect spot, the gentleness of the old neighbour tending to flower that will only bloom one year but they think still deserve to have the best care, the child reading a book of its most beloved story to a sibilng. if you mean humanity looking at the world and asking “who are you and how can I love you” and after not getting an answer, inventing poetry and song and science to understand, to adore, to remember. then yes. I walk towards you.

[flintpunks-mind]

My therapist was so real for saying the meaning of life is found in connection.

People hug their friends when they meet up and hug them a little tighter when it comes time to say goodbye. My grandfather rebuilt the broken rocking horse my grandmother had as a child, a gift from her father. There's an indescribable ache that goes along with seeing someone you used to know intimately, the becoming of a common stranger. Coincidences that bind, one time I got an uber and the driver used to live in my home before me. It was the last place he saw his father alive as a child and he nearly cried when I told him the walls were still the same colour.

Has anyone ever gotten over their childhood best friend? Is that alone not a testament to the fact we are more than blood and bones.

It's all about connection, friends.

[flintpunks-mind]

it’s really important that you are a little bit in love with your friends btw. it’s crucial even

[flintpunks-mind]

having friends is so cool like here’s a person i love soooo much and i get to make inside jokes w them and make them laugh and be there for them when they’re sad and share in their suffering as well as their joy. what a beautiful and sacred thing. friendship is holy

[flintpunks-mind]

i sometimes forget that this is everyone’s first time on earth too. like. this is my first time seeing a butterfly this color. but its that little girl’s first time seeing any butterfly, ever. and i accidentally left a bag of groceries at the store after paying and now i’m cursing under my breath and it’s like. there a thousand other people out there who did that today too. and a thousand more from yesterday. and. like. we’re not actually alone. and we’re not actually failing. at least not in a way that a few billion people haven’t before you

[flintpunks-mind]

my favorite love language is trying, actually

[flintpunks-mind]

time spent loving will never be time wasted. even if that love ends. i have to believe this or i will go crazy. signed by. girl

[flintpunks-mind]

i know kindness exists because i am kind

[flintpunks-mind]

i like to pretend i already died and asked god to send me back to earth so i can swim in lakes again and see mountains and get my heart broken and love my friends and cry so hard in the bathroom and go grocery shopping 1,000 more times. and that i promised i would never forget the miracle of being here

[flintpunks-mind]

my life really did improve when i decided to just constantly, casually compliment my friends and family. i cannot recommend it more. it makes everything better. you look incredible in that shirt, you're one of the funniest people i know, you're wearing the hell out of that dress, you're so sexy wtf, you're so talented, i love talking to you, you're so fun to be around, you're so kind, that haircut is amazing, i love you, i love you, i love you

[flintpunks-mind]

having friends is literally just like hey i drew this for u (i love you) i just found a batshit insane image and i can’t look at it alone so i’m sending it to you (i love you) it’s 4 am and i’m gonna bully you until you fall asleep (i love you) you need to eat today or else i’m gonna throw hands (i love you) i want to squeeze your ocs like a stress ball (i love you) we’re halfway across the globe from eachother in completely different timezones but i still say good morning anyway (i love you)

[flintpunks-mind]

The legacies people leave behind in you.

My handwriting is the same style as the teacher’s who I had when I was nine. I’m now twenty one and he’s been dead eight years but my i’s still curve the same way as his.

I watched the last season of a TV show recently but I started it with my friend in high school. We haven’t spoken in four years.

I make lentil soup through the recipe my gran gave me.

I curl my hair the way my best friend showed me.

I learned to love books because my father loved them first.

How terrifying, how excruciatingly painful to acknowledge this. That I am a jigsaw puzzle of everyone I have briefly known and loved. I carry them on with me even if I don’t know it. How beautiful.

~Edit~

Yikes guys I didn’t expect this post to blow up.

I’m grateful it did though. Looking at all the comments and tags really takes a stab at my heart because it just shows how wired we are for connection. If life has any meaning, then it’s that.

This concept really sunk its teeth into me as it reassures the notion that no one is ever truly gone. Parts of them just change into you.

That teacher I talked about inspired me to become a teacher myself. This was my first year teaching. Here’s to a new generation of curved i’s.

[flintpunks-mind]

I'm in love with involuntary validation of a relationship. My best friend saying "our spot", my brother saying "our cookie recipe" or my mum saying "our song". Like YES I LOVE YOU TOO. I'm so soft for it.