"Feeling beautiful has nothing to do with what you look like. I promise."
Happy birthday to my heart!
"Intimacy is the capacity to be rather weird with someone - and finding that that’s ok with them."
"Love said to me, there is nothing that is not me. Be silent."
"Sometimes you’re 23 and standing in the kitchen of your house making breakfast and brewing coffee and listening to music that for some reason is really getting to your heart. You’re just standing there thinking about going to work and picking up your dry cleaning. And also more exciting things like books you’re reading and trips you plan on taking and relationships that are springing into existence. Or fading from your memory, which is far less exciting. And suddenly you just don’t feel at home in your skin or in your house and you just want home but “Mom’s” probably wouldn’t feel like home anymore either. There used to be the comfort of a number in your phone and ears that listened everyday and arms that were never for anyone else. But just to calm you down when you started feeling trapped in a five-minute period where nostalgia is too much and thoughts of this person you are feel foreign. When you realize that you’ll never be this young again but this is the first time you’ve ever been this old. When you can’t remember how you got from sixteen to here and all the same feel like sixteen is just as much of a stranger to you now. The song is over. The coffee’s done. You’re going to breath in and out. You’re going to be fine in about five minutes."
"Maybe you can breathe, but gratitude for the air is running out."
On Sundays, I miss you. I wake up and let the sunlight stream into my bedroom as I stretch under the covers. I look out my window and watch yellow-red leaves fall from the walnut tree; I am already imagining my bike ride. I can feel the wind in my hair and on my face - I can see the black path, the endless fields, and the river to my left. I look to my phone and wonder if you want to come. Gazing at the black screen, I can see your black helmet and broad shoulders hunched over in front of me.
Then I close my eyes and shake the image from my mind, pretending it’s as easy as etch-a-sketch. I sigh and will the image to dissolve, determined to start the day fresh. I swing my feet to the cold floor and pad to the bathroom.
Sweating and breathing hard, I push open the door to the shed and walk my bike inside. I take my helmet off and remove my headphones – the space is dark and quiet. My stomach rumbles loudly, and I wonder if you have dinner plans. For a moment, I see your face across a plastic white table and smile. I pick up my phone and open my messages, but stop abruptly half way through typing your name. For I see you again, but this time in a dark parking lot, standing tall and saying nothing. And I feel my heart harden all over again. Gazing at your half-name, I let out a breath and click the screen off. How many times a day must I find my resolve? On Sundays, more than I care to admit.
“I’m not ashamed to dress “like a woman” because I don’t think it’s shameful to be a woman.” -Iggy Pop
(Source: dailyrocknroll, via asslyn)