turnthepaiiige

[turnthepaiiige]

Rare photo of yours truly 💕

[turnthepaiiige]

For when I forget how much you love me ❤️

The entire world believes they know our story. They think they can diagnose our love. We do not fit in the box they try to confine us to. They don't know the beginning. They don't know where we come from or where we are going. They were not there on the turnpike. They did not sing songs at the top of their lungs. They did not lay in bed and laugh for hours. They did not lose what we lost. They did not suffer as we suffered. They do not know what it is like to find a piece of your soul in another human being. We came together two damaged people. At first, we thought we would use each other. We thought it was nothing serious. We thought it would be fun. We chose to love each other. We chose to look past the flaws. In loving each other, we began to love ourselves. We are connected in a way that is visceral. So much so that it scares us both. We believe that it's unhealthy. We believe that maybe someone else will be safer. However, I don't want to be safe. However, I don't want easy. I would gladly never love again after having a taste of what we have. Nothing would enough. No one could fill the hole you left. No one could give me purpose. No one could ever replace you. I will wait an eternity for you to come home. Till I'm old and gray waiting for a knock on the door. I am yours forever and always

[turnthepaiiige]

For more memes follow-r/memesThatUCanRepost/ on Reddit

#meme

#memes

[turnthepaiiige]

For more memes follow-r/memesThatUCanRepost/ on Reddit

#meme

#memes

[turnthepaiiige]

[turnthepaiiige]

[turnthepaiiige]

[turnthepaiiige]

For more memes follow-r/memesThatUCanRepost/ on Reddit

#meme

#memes

[turnthepaiiige]

[turnthepaiiige]

For more memes follow-r/memesThatUCanRepost/ on Reddit

#meme

#memes

[turnthepaiiige]

For more memes follow-r/memesThatUCanRepost/ on Reddit

#meme

#memes

[turnthepaiiige]

[turnthepaiiige]

Serious question; why have I been kept alive all this time? For comedic effect? Fuck off now.

[turnthepaiiige]

Hi dad, could you please come pick me up?Everything is hell here and I don't know how to stop the world from feeling like its ending. Each existential crisis seems to be lasting longer… longer than the calm moments I hardly remember in between. You told me if I worked hard, everything would be okay, but dad I've worked so hard that my fingers tips bled and yet if you asked the people who��ve spent the most time with me they’d tell you I haven’t known a hard days work in years. I get a breath of fresh air every time I open a window, so last I checked the world still hasn’t been set on fire, yet somehow it feels as if I’ve been burnt to ash… And I know you told me the best forests grow out of wildfire ashes but dad, when is the barren wasteland of my life going to start growing again? And are you sure the fires I’ve accidentally set won't wreck the saplings sprouting in my veins before they even become trees at all?

I’m sorry I’ve let you down, dad. I’ve always thought your dreams for me were bigger than the dreams you had for yourself. But I’ve never had my own dreams, only nightmares plagued with the sounds of thunderstorms from my past. But you’ve never paid any mind to the nightlight I carry in my pocket. You remind me still to revel in my beauty, giving no credit to the sun for highlighting my best features despite the darkness that seems to surround me more and more as the years pass me by. Pretending not to notice as my flesh begins to rot. I promise I am trying to be well again Dad, but the hope I used to feel is now sitting on a shelf collecting cobwebs, gathering dust. And the demons in my head have started to influence my thoughts more often than not because they know how tired I am of scribbling positive affirmations in the mirrors and on the walls. This can’t be what growing up was supposed to be? Is this how it feels to grow older? Have you been spouting positivity through clenched teeth and aching joints just for me? How do you keep the guise of safety alive in the walls of your home each time I come to visit, Dad? My childhood room decorated exactly the way I remember. I think I left a piece of myself in there when I was 15. Maybe that’s why the stories you find at the bottom of a glass make me feel whole again, no matter how many times you’ve told them to me. I won’t mind the silence on our way home, but when we finally get there, can we sit on the back porch while you tell your stories to me again? I want to write them all down, so I can remember, so I can always remember. Because you and your stories remind me that life has meaning, Dad. Because your love reminds me that my life has meaning. I don’t know why I don’t call anymore… I’m sorry I haven’t called, Dad. I’m sick of saying sorry, but I am.

[turnthepaiiige]

Bury me in a garden if I die on this hill.

Put flowers in my hair and fill the coffin with pills.

Because I’m afraid that in heaven, I’ll feel like this still.

[turnthepaiiige]

endless, tiresome pursuit

[turnthepaiiige]

I’m too much. I talk too much when I’m excited, go completely silent when I’m overwhelmed. I send memes in rapid-fire bursts, like I’m trying to say something. I don’t know if it’s charming or annoying. I can’t tell anymore.

Sometimes I laugh too loudly. Sometimes I fall quiet mid-sentence and stare off, lost in my own weather. I cancel plans at the last minute because my chest is heavy with something I can’t explain. Other times I show up buzzing, electric, spilling stories I can barely organize. I’m inconsistent, I know that. I shift without warning. I contradict myself. I overexplain. I second-guess. I write long messages and delete them. I send a string of texts and then wonder if I’ve annoyed someone into silence.

But the truth is—I just care. Loudly, awkwardly, constantly. I try. I remember small things people tell me. I check in. I carry people in my thoughts like charms in my pocket. And still, I worry that I’m only ever tolerated. That I’m the extra noise in a quiet room. That I’m a placeholder in group chats. That I am too much, or not enough in the right ways.

I don’t always know how to exist. My affection is clumsy, intense, overgrown. I want to be wanted. I want to be safe to be messy, to be a little too emotional, a little too present.

But some days, I feel like if I disappeared, the world would just… adjust. Quietly. Neatly. Like I was never meant to take up space in the first place.