Can’t Stop Thinking About My Friend’s Cishet Partner Who Said Last Night That He Doesn’t Think

I have a *thing* for Wolfstar fics when Remus thinks Sirius isn't going to stick with him because he's not good enough for Sirius, then it flips to Sirius's POV and he's tripping over his own feet because he's just so into Remus he can't think straight.

“I’m constantly torn between “if it’s meant to be, it will be” and “if you want it, go and get it.”

—

there’s got to be at least one trans woman named eve out there whose deadname is adam. and she’s the funniest person to ever grace this earth with her presence.

“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow; but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.”

— Agatha Christie

“Love him,” said Jacques, with vehemence, “love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters? And how long, at the best, can it last, since you are both men and still have everywhere to go? Only five minutes, I assure you, only five minutes, and most of that, hélas! in the dark. And if you think of them as dirty, then they will be dirty—they will be dirty because you will be giving nothing, you will be despising your flesh and his. But you can make your time together anything but dirty; you can give each other something which will make both of you better—forever—if you will not be ashamed, if you will only not play it safe.” (…) “Somebody,” said Jacques, “your father or mine, should have told us that not many people have ever died of love. But multitudes have perished, and are perishing every hour—and in the oddest places!—for the lack of it.”

- Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin

He asked me when I fell in love with him and I knew it sounded dramatic to say the moment I saw him, so I told him this story of my grandma who had Alzheimer's- she forgot her name and the words for fruit and food, she forgot her address and how to use the washroom, all her life lost to the disease. The only thing she remembered was her son's name and when that began to fade, the one thing she always remembered was that she loved him, even in illness, even in insanity. She saw this 6 foot 2 man with a scrubby beard and she didn't know him but she said she trusted him, she asked him to hold her hand when she died. When does memory end and love begin? All I know is- she loved him before she remembered him.

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire

i went to a tiny counterserve diner once and accidentally poured sugar instead of salt all over my hashbrowns and was eating them sadly anyways. the waitress took them away and started making me another one and I tried to protest, but she just snorted and said "we're not catholic here". now every time i'm doing something painful out of obligation i think about how that is not repenting, this body is not a catholic establishment, there is no nobility in suffering.

sometimes i think the world is bad and everything is awful and then i read something nice that someone has written and it’s like… ok… maybe there is some joy in this stupid world… might fuck around and take pleasure in the little things…

You tell a lot of people you love them..

That’s the point of living, dummy.

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