in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!
they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.
they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.
you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.
but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.
where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.
and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?
doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.
but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.
what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.
just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?
your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.
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fucking hate it when the stuff everybody says "actually works" does actually work.
hate exercising and realizing i've let go of a lot of anxiety and anger because i've overturned my fight-or-flight response.
hate eating right and eating enough and eating 3 times a day and realizing i'm less anxious and i have more energy
hate journaling in my stupid notebook with my stupid bic ballpoint and realizing that i've actually started healing about something once i'm able to externalize it
hate forgiving myself hate complimenting myself more often hate treating myself with kindness hate taking a gratitude inventory hate having patience hate talking to myself gently
hate turning my little face up to the sun and taking deep breaths and looking at nature and grounding myself and realizing that i feel less burdened and more hopeful, more actually-here, that i am able to see the good sides of myself more clearly, that i am able to see not only how far i have to grow - but also how much growth i have already done & how much of my life i truly fill with light and laughter and love
horrible horrible horrible. hate it but i'm gonna do it tho
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oranges
gojo knows how to peel oranges
a/n: just something simple inspired by the poem oranges by jean little, i cried the first time i read it, hope you guys enjoy <3
wordcount: 843
masterlist
there was a lot you did for satoru.
you helped ground him, reminded him to drink water, made him food, taught him how to fold clothes and do laundry, showed him all your favorites- from places to eat and videos to play.
you reminded him what love felt like, your tender touches late at night, gentle thumb pads wiping away hot tears, soft whispers and proclamations of love.
satoru always wondered what he did for you.
he didn’t think much of the quality time he’d spend with you, he thought that was a given. he often brushed past the shower of compliments he gave you daily, figuring that was the standard. the little gestures of holding doors open, buying you flowers, remembering your favorite candle scent and buying your shampoo seemed too natural to him for it to be considered and outward act of love.
“you want some oranges?” you asked, looking at him with a smile from the kitchen.
“i could go for some oranges” he replies, getting up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, taking an orange in his hand.
his thumbs easily tear into through the peel, gently digging his finger and separating it seamlessly from the sweet fruit, continuing his motion until the peel comes completely off, all in one piece.
you on the other hand, are putting too much force into your thumb, your finger piercing straight into the flesh of the fruit, shrieking when the juice gets on your face a bit.
“how do you always peel it so neatly? i have never once been able to” you huff, setting the now punctured Orange on a towel, washing your hands in the sink before drying them off.
“cmon sweetheart it really isn’t that hard!” satoru grins, taking your orange and easily peeling it apart neatly. “you have to do this, and then… get it there and boom!” his smile widening as he stares at you, a pout on your lips and an annoyed look in your eyes.
“yeah yeah mr. ‘I’m so good at everything’” you tease, tasking the orange from his hand and munching on a piece. “they’re sweet today” you smile, putting both your pieces and satoru’s in a bowl, heading back to the couch the two of you were on.
two weeks later the two of you are cooking dinner, reading off the recipe and realizing the dish called for an orange.
“can you hand me an orange?” you ask, turning around and thanking him as he hands it to you. you were determined to not make a mess this time, it’s just an orange after all.
but as gentle as you were, the peel wouldn’t budge, and the little force you applied proved to be just a little too much as your fingers pierced through the flesh again. you groaned in frustrations satoru already taking it from his hands, a smile on his face as he so easily peeled it.
“coulda just asked” he hums, handing you the orange, you’re glaring at him, giggling when he misses your nose.
“thank you angel boy,” you mumble, chopping the orange and adding it in.
one year later you’re sitting together in a grassy field, the wild blowing past the two of you, your laughter and love filled gazes scattered in the wind.
“i got some oranges from the market today!” you grin, taking them out of the wicker basket and showing them to your snowy haired lover. “you owe me breakfast in bed if i can finally peel this damn citrus fruit” you wager, satoru easily sitting back, a small smirk on his face as he nodded.
“I’ll do so breakfast in bed for a month if you peel it in one piece” your eyes widen at his proposition, nodding before looking at the fruit in your hands.
it’s only ten seconds later that you’re throwing yourself back, saying the fruit was obviously defective because ‘there’s no way the peel was that easy to cut through!’
satoru takes the oranges from you, peeling them perfectly and separating them into neat sections.
“I’m glad i have you to peel my citrus” you smile one night, taking the mandarin slices from his hand and humming in delight as the sweet taste hits your tastebuds.
“I’ll always peel your oranges for you” he replies, voice soft, his blue eyes seem a little lighter and his face a bit more relaxed as he looks at you.
it’s been years since then, and you never learned to peel oranges, the times you’d attempt to, juice would get everywhere and the peel coming off in chunks, the aftermath looked like an orange massacre.
satoru’s heart flutters when he sees the citrus fruit, knowing you’ll hand it to him, for him to peel for you. he knows you’ll always ask him to do this for you.
satoru is grateful everyday that you can’t peel oranges, because with the boundless things you do for him, he knows this is the one thing he’ll always be able to do for you.
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