the starry sky on the himalayas
CLICK ON THE PIC BRO
Def click da pic
Love at first touch.
7.27 | damien rice | 9 crimes
it’s the wrong kind of place
to be thinking of you
belated national dog day:
I don’t know where you are, and I tried to find you last year but I found no answers. But I hope that wherever it is, you’re the happiest puppy who can run around for hours and get all the love you deserve. I think about you on the daily ❤️
The sound of the espresso machine grinding beans is my alarm, the hallway light peeks through my door and the sound of little paws on the tile wakes me up.
I quick spring out of bed and throw on a sweatshirt (one of the only times I can anymore), dad’s waiting in the car. I get in the passenger seat and rub my tired eyes. The smell of his cologne reminds me of being a kid when he would drive me and my sister to school. The car is illuminated by a collection of red and white buttons, with the radio just loud enough to hear. We talk about our plans for the day and when we get to the shop we say our goodbyes. As I drive home it’s still dark, and I’m still in my sweats and Damien Rice is humming in the background, the car still smells like dad. I come home and eat waffles with my sister and climb back into my cold bed with heavy blankets because I can still sleep for another hour. Mornings like this are rare, but the best.
It’s not that we’re scared
It’s just that it’s delicate
Hearing about all of my friends and their relationships keeps me sane. It keeps me in check with my priorities of what to expect from a healthy relationship and gives me an outside perspective of every stupid thing I’ve done in the past. But sometimes, being alone can be depleting. Yes, I can sprawl out on the bed and sleep sideways with my dog. I don’t have to check in with anyone when I’m out with my friends, my entire paycheck is my own because I don’t have anyone else to spend it on. But in the same sense, it’s easy to ignore the fact that I don’t have anyone to call after work and discuss our days, no one to just talk to throughout the day, no warm body to sleep next to and hold. I’ve adapted to being very alone and without my friends pretty well. I can hangout by myself and still be okay. But it’s a cold, hard slap in the face when certain things happen and I’m confronted with the fact that I really haven’t been attached to anyone for over 6 months. I often wonder if there’s something I’m doing wrong. I ask myself questions like: is it the way I look? Is it my blunt personality? Why hasn’t it happened yet? Maybe I’m extra cautious now. Maybe I know exactly what I want and I don’t want to bother with anyone who doesn’t meet every expectation I have. Or maybe my standards are too high. I can’t put a finger on it, but I fear so much that it’s me.
I hate talking about it. I hate thinking about it. But the one thing I don’t hate is that I no longer feel regretful for losing what I most recently had. Like yeah, I still miss having him as my best friend. But I don’t miss the fights. I don’t miss the double standards and hurt that came alongside of love.
I’m just really ready to stop being alone.
- I don’t take this blog seriously whatsoever anymore
- Today was my first semester of my technical “sophomore year”
- I love all of my professors thus far
- I’m ditching wine and switching to vodka
- it has less calories
- Florida is still boring
- I still have like no friends
- I don’t really miss PA
- I’m not coming home until January, actually.
- I’m still balls deep in missing Alex and Christina