this actually happened to my buddy eric
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I am learning to be patient in all matters of life. Breaking bonds constructed of rusted chains. Setting fires that gently warm instead of scorch. Opening my eyes instead of reaching out blindly.
I have spent the better part of this week crying and that is okay. What pain I feel is pain demanding to be felt, and feel it I do. But, heal I will, too.
Not everything in life is going to be something upbeat and memorable; sometimes things happen just so we can learn from them. Call me scholar. Call me hopeful. Call me brave in the face of inevitable change.
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huong1952: Heart's measure
The day I let love in
A blue bird sang
A blue moon song
Now or never I pledged
Love in exchange
For grief
The day I let love go
The blue bird was dead
The blue moon faded
I knew
I made a promise
Love for grief
The blue bird is now asleep
Under the faded moonlight
My heart's measure
A ray of light
A long dark night
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Memories...
Memories, they're like treasures stored in the attic of our minds—fragile, yet precious. Whether they're of a friend's laughter, an enemy's scorn, or a loved one's embrace, those moments slowly lose their clarity as the sands of time trickle by.
It's akin to sketching messages in the sand at the beach; without a proper guard, they gradually wash away with the tide, leaving behind only faint traces of what once was. As sands cascade from the palm's gentle hold, so do memories, swept by life's relentless flow.
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the vocabulary of loss is the dictionary
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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.
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Please higher the mercenary, she needs the money, just look at how beat up her chest piece is
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“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
― Jamie Anderson
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