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I think sometimes it isn't about finding the one, it's about finding your place. That self that you keep bottled up, yes that one you find embarrassing or weird, find more people that you can be like that with. Find a community, however small, where you can let loose.
I used to dream of someone who I could expose my every flaw to and still be loved. And I would cry, thinking it was impossible.
But I already have that! I already have so many close friends who see all of me and still care. I have a home in all of them that I wouldn't trade for the world's hottest, kindest spouse.
I am whole as I am. And so are you. You're going to be great, keep going.
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Invited.
Invited. Thought of. Included.
There's a beauty to existence shared.
Do you see it? My love for you?
Bleeding into little pools?
Like iron melting under a welder's touch?
Fluid for just an instant in expert care,
Solid and normal in but a moment's glance?
I hope you'll never touch the red that comes from your tender hands.
Wait until I am cool to the touch and put together.
Included. Linked. Joined.
A bridge to a world I'm never part of.
Is it any wonder I love you?
Is it any surprise that you brighten my life?
You're my escape.
And I love you.
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Zenitsu: When I get murdered can you make sure I’m an unsolved case?
Tanjiro: What?
Zenitsu: I want to be on Buzzfeed Unsolved.
Tanjiro: Can we go back to the part when you said “When I get murdered?“
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You know, if heaven had a sound, I think it would be the sound of a friend infodumping about something they love.
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Love her in a way that fills both your lives with warmth. Love her enough to experience new foods, new shows, new songs. Let your love spill into the gifts and the time she shares with you.
For every moment you could spend cursing your heart for choosing someone who doesn't feel the same back, instead thank it. Thank your heart for finding extra joy in her presence. Thank your heart for making you want to sing, dance, write, create, blush, and babble.
Love is like anger. It can be caused by someone's actions, but it is still ultimately your own. You must choose to use it well or risk the consequences. You can talk about it, you can tell someone you love them if you put it carefully enough.
I hope to tell her I love her some day. I hope that I can tell her how much she brightens my life simply by existing. I hope to have the words to convey that I need nothing in return. I expect nothing back.
One day.
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Sometimes there's joy in the connections with your past. Sometimes you make cookies as you did when you were a child with your parent, and you think of them fondly.
And sometimes there's sorrow. Sometimes you watch as the recipe gets twisted and others make half-baked cookies. And in those mushy flat cookies you plainly taste what your family has lost.
Sometimes there's hope in watching the growth of your family through each happy milestone. In the place of lost connections, newer ones can be strengthened with time and care.
Sometimes there's despair in the destruction of the past. Sometimes you erase a chalk drawing crafted by hands you will never again hold. Sometimes you'll cry over the smallest acts of destruction required to move forward.
Sometimes it will hurt. Other times it will numb.
But all the time, every moment of such thoughts and every moment in between, you exist. You breathe. You take in the world around you and add something to it.
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Love and passion are batteries. So are spite and anger. No one cares what brand batteries you use, just what you do with them.
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Create for yourself what you would for a lover. Create, strive, exist.
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One day I will find someone I'm not afraid to dance in front of. Until then, loneliness is just an invitation to dance.
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I'm thankful for the lessons taught to me by the relationships I've been in.
My first taught me what the butterfly feelings were and why it's so important to communicate beyond mere love notes.
My second taught me to live in the moment and cherish the friendships you have. But it also taught me that you can't date someone you can't be honest with.
My last taught me how rewarding it is to trust in others.
This holiday season, I wish everyone a relationship you're thankful to be in, whether that's a loving duo, family, or friend squad.
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Sometimes life is like 550 yards of fingerweight yarn. One wrong move or inexperienced tug can land you with an impossible mess that takes hours to make sense of.
And sometimes those around you will look to you in exhaustion and exasperation at the mess you've made of your life. Sometimes they'll help, but most of the time they'll berate you for not knowing better. They won't see any progress made as an accomplishment.
So you have to. You have to have your own pride in the fact that you're cleaning up that mess. You have to find your own happiness when you find that end and can get the ball rolling. You have to pat your own back for not giving up on the huge task ahead.
And it will hurt, every jab at your ineptitude might make you want to give up on the whole thing. But you've got this. Every time you drop the ball or lose your place, you're absolutely allowed to be proud that the mess hasn't convinced you to stop. Even when you feel like you're making too slow a progress, you can let yourself feel content with the pace you've set.
You can take breaks, you can break down, you can ask for help. And if no one is proud of you for the progress you've made, know that I am. If no one recognizes how hard it is to bite down the urge to give up, know that some gal is over here sitting in a 550 yard mess of yarn not knowing your exact problems but hoping the best for you.
Your progress matters. Three steps back and one step forward might still land you behind, but taking another step forward is still worth celebrating.
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notes on rekindling romantic relationships: nostalgia is a liar, old habits die hard, don’t confuse familiarity with comfort, sometimes even healed wounds hurt, time doesn’t build trust, growth does not look the same on everyone, listen to the voice in your head, love requires more than love, protect yourself
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It wasn’t meant to be. You’re not missing out. Your life has different plans for you.
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I am not looking for my other half, my wings are neither broken nor halved. I am merely awaiting someone to accompany me in the air
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Only once I can stand on my own two feet, will I notice how you make me weakness in the knees.
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Its ok to miss an activity you used to do with someone but not miss the person.
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There will come people who will lean on you for support. When they find someone else to lean on or can stand on their own, don’t be surprised when you wobble. 
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