#in two years i will grow older and i will have the shittiest takes known to man that arent even nuanced i hope you toss me into a spike pit

[anderson-residence]

@cybernetichearts // based on this I had to make a new post because tumblr was being a butt. Cut for length, as long as tumblr works properly. This is super fucking long but hey yeah I’m kinda already invested in this idea and had to set things up lol no need to match my length.

- Niles never liked raids. He hated being a raider, but he knew it was what they needed to do in order to survive, it’s what their family did and it was either this or die out. They had to come first. Their own survival above everyone else. But such a mentality never set well with him to take things others needed to survive and then move on. Killing whoever tried to get in their way and their supplies.

The youngest of the Anderson family was always the most sensitive. Only seconded by their father, Hank, who had long since hardened his heart to do what he had to keep his sons alive. His ship at long since sailed. Niles had yet to let go, even having grown up with this life. This was the only life he had ever known. The only way of life they all knew. But the twenty five year old was still stuck in his morals and soft heart. His older brothers were more cold. Colder to the outside world and even within their own little family unit. They were a leave no survivors type where he was more of someone who would let people go if they didn’t seem to be any threat. Connor was the softer of the two older boys in the family, opening his heart to the members of his own little family but still somehow able to be a cold heartless bandit while raiding establishments. Niles never got any kind of comfort from his other brother, Carter. Carter was cold to everyone unless the shit really hit the fan. It was rare for anyone to see the kinder sider of the family’s middle child. Growing up Niles always went to Connor or their father. There was only one time he truly remembered seeing a pinch of kindness (and worry) from Carter. That was when Niles had fallen ill and was near death from an untreated infection in a bad cut. Niles,while a careful child and even now still a careful adult, had managed to get cut on rusted rebar on a raid. The boy, only eleven at the time, quickly fell sick with fever. It was a horrible fever and pain that he recalled vividly. He had been extra cautious ever since. The sounds of their engines roared as they headed towards their next target. Niles wasn’t driving this time. He sat in one of the passenger seats of one of the three heavy duty vehicles in their convoy. They used to have a fourth one, one for each of them but it died on them at the shittiest time possible. A time that was an either run or die type of situation. They had to fall back and leave the old thing behind. They were still debating if they should lessen the number of vehicles even more. The sight of all of them was enough to frighten some people but there wasn't much stealth to it. It gave their targets time to rally defenses. The cars also gave them space for their supplies and a constant space to call home, other than the abandoned outlets they often slept in. But as the last one showed them, it was a bit of a liability issue as well trying to gather all their things in a vehicle that up and died. But having others to rely on could very well save their lives. Niles would try to make small talk but Carter was the driver this time and he prefered silence. Besides it was hard to hear much of anything over the hum of the engines. Hak prefered them as old as he could find them. Said the ran better and could well and plenty be fixed all by hand. They were reliable. Loud but durable and hardy. They got the job done for carrying cargo as well. They could see it on the horizon now, ever so close, their next raid target. They would be there soon enough. The boys readied themselves. Guns in hands and bags on backs. It was time. They pulled up and everyone jumped out. Guns at the ready to deal with anyone who dared to stop them, and even anyone else in the area who got in their way or just anyone who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. They weren’t messing around and shot first, asking questions later or not at all. Then they could take what they could and then get out. This violence and aggression was routine to them. It was a quick and dangerous act but it was what they needed to do. They arrived, grabbed what they needed, and even a few things they wanted then they would make a beeline back to their vehicles and move on to the next area however close or far it may be. If they knew it would be a while they would take more and pray for everything they needed to survive in those long strides. If it wasn't as far they’d still take all they could, not wanting to chance it. Stockpiling was the best option. It made sure no one in the family went hungry or died of an infection.Niles jumped out of the vehicle, gun in hand and cautious as he moved his way through the area looking for things to take but having no luck. “Fuck!” They were low on first aid and couldn’t afford to wait much longer on food either. This was bullshit. 

#ic #cybernetichearts #niles muse #the others are here too #also human #human niles #and the others are human to #dystopian au

[dtownsuga]

silent black keys

deaf composer! yoongi x librarian! y/n

genre; calling all soft yoongi community, angst, angst, maybe one more angst, sprinkle of fluff, maybe lots of fluff

warning; will be added as story progresses.

read chapter II

Sometimes people forget. They forget where they last put their wallets. They forget important appointments. They forget their glasses were right above their heads the whole time. They forget that the black keys of the piano also make music.

I am one of those black keys, before I met him. A boy, who screamed the loudest and heard the deepest.

—

chapter I

You hate weekends. Not only because the public library is so crowded on Saturday and Sunday, but also because Kim Taehyung, the only person who works the same shift as you, has decided to call out of work for who he called the love of his life. Although it was crowded, the library has always remained silent. You love it. It was the amount of people queueing up to check out their books that make you internally cursed at Taehyung for taking a day off.

Tuition fees and bills are the reason why you’re working in three different libraries at the same time, but this place has made you grow accustom to the silence it could offer. The most you can hear is people whispering to each other, well, of course sometimes there will be troublemaker but nothing has been that severe. Although you are not a reader yourself, you enjoy looking at people’s changing expressions while they turned the book to the next page. In weekends however, you are less observant because you’ll be standing the whole day, scanning barcodes and smiling at people.

“Next,” you said almost whispering, while smiling to the little boy on the queue.

“Can you make that one month?” a taller woman whispered back to you, very beautiful. You nodded your head in return.

“Please make sure you return it before this date, okay?” you handed the book to the little boy and you swear it’s the cutest giggles you’ve ever heard.

“Next,” probably the 60th time today. No one approaches your desk. You thought your voice is too soft to the point the next person on the queue couldn’t hear you. “Next,” you tried again, louder. Still, no one. You looked at the queue and see a man tapping on the shoulder of the person in front of him, probably telling him it’s his turn.

The man’s eyes widen, probably shock from the sudden touch of the man behind him. Your lips curls up into a little smile when you see him bowing several times and mouthing sorry before he walks towards you. The black-haired man puts 6 books on your desk and you scan all of them, wondering how he’s going to read all of these in three months, probably, because it’s the maximum time given.

“So, how many months do you want it to be, erm, Yoongi?” his name was written on his library card. You were answered with silence instead. Why the fuck is he not talking to me?

You watched as the eyes of the petite man were busy looking around the main door, seems like he is trying to find for someone, panicking at the same time. It was even clearer when his breath becomes unsteady, and his cheeks flushing red, clearly panicking.

You donot want to be impatient, but clearly the man waiting on the line will. “I’m sorry sir, but, how many months do you want it to be? I need-“ you repeated, trying to get back his attention, but the young man suddenly cut you mid-sentence, holding the book and pointing at the date columns, indicating the length of lending time he could get. You nodded to his gestures. You almost forgot his name by the time he shows you a peace sign with his fingers, two months?

“Two months?” and you see his face lights up with happiness while nodding furiously. You also do not miss the moment when he found the person he’s looking for a while ago, standing near the exit, and making a short-weird hand gestures. Guessing from his height and appearance the man must be several years older than the man in front of you. You do not know the details but what you remember is the young man walking away with 5 books cuddled on his chest, walking to the taller man near the exit.

The next customer is quick, with one week lending time and a children story book. When another “next” almost comes up from your mouth, you see a seemingly familiar book near the counter. Ah, Yoongi’s. You look at the queue, three people were waiting. When you pick up the book from your desk and told them to wait for a while because someone left a book behind, you only received smiles and nods from the three of them.

You spend no time and run to the exit. You have only served on customer, maybe the man will still be there. You don’t know why but something inside you really wanted him to have this book because he went through such a hard time just to borrow those 6 books.

You looked around the bench in front of the library and when you couldn’t find him you ran to the parking lot, hoping the man is there. It’s probably the best moment in your life when you see him under tree, alone.

“Yoongi!” you call his name, and as usual, no answer. You walk closer towards him, and run with the energy you have left when you see him get into a car. You manage to stop them from driving away when the taller man on the driver seat notices you waving at them. He stops the car and comes out from the car, Yoongi follows.

“I’m sorry miss, are you waving at us?” he asked. God, his voice is soothing, almost sounds like lullaby.

“Ah, yes. He left the book near the counter,” you hand the book to the taller man. You see Yoongi running back to the car, and open the backseat door, before running back to you. He gives the taller man a nod. Ah, he’s checking whether it’s his book or not.

“I’m sorry you need to come all this way to give this to us. You didn’t need to, we can go back anytime to pick it up,” the taller one said while handing the book to Yoongi. You could see how his cheeks are once again, showing shades of pink.

Yoongi suddenly brings his hand to the air and makes several signs. You almost miss them when the taller man replies him with more signs, very quickly.

“He said thank you and you must be running from the library,” oh, oh, of course. Y/n, sometimes I’m amazed on how stupid you could be.

“And I am Namjoon, and this is, as what you’ve known, Yoongi,” the taller man, now Namjoon, continues talking.

You don’t know why but your body moves on its own when you know Namjoon and Yoongi are communicating with sign language. It finally hits that Yoongi has hearing disability, when you sign out Hello, I’m Y/n with your finger, remembering the sign language class you took last year.

You could see how Yoongi stops breathing for a few seconds when you replied him with sign language. His eyes shape crescent moon as he signs back to you. Hello, Y/n. I’m Min Yoongi. You are proud because you could get everything he signs, but when Yoongi continues signing, you couldn’t help but hold the embarrassment for being proud early.

“I’m sorry I only know basics,” you said, eyeing Namjoon who’s now chuckling. Namjoon signs to Yoongi what you expected was the sentence you’ve said. Yoongi smiles at you before signing back to Namjoon.

“He said, your name is beautiful and he would love to talk more with you,” it was your turn now, face flushing red and awkward gestures.

“Can you tell him I would want to talk to him too?” Yoongi looks at him and Namjoon quickly signed back to Yoongi.

“I’ll be back again next Saturday,” Namjoon said as Yoongi signs, and you nod at him with a silly smile, you hope it doesn’t scare him.

Reality hits you back only when you heard the library’s bell ringing. Fuck, the queue.

“I guess that’s your call, y/n,” You nodded not wanting to leave just yet. Yoongi signs a goodbye and you replied him with an appropriate goodbye, something you remembered from the lesson.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself while walking away, hoping that next weekend shall come tomorrow. You turned back, and Namjoon and Yoongi have not left yet. You signed them another goodbye before running back to the library.

You took out your phone from your back pocket and called Taehyung. After the third ring, he picks up.

“I know you’re probably sucking his dick but, Tae, can you teach me sign language?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“And also, can you call out of work again next weekend?”

“Now, Y/n, explain yourself because something, something should have happened.”

“I might or might not have met someone,” you said while opening the door of the library.

“And?”

“And I need a little bit of work to start a conversation or talk to him,” you added, hoping that Taehyung will just say a yes.

“And?”

“And I fucking need your help, best friend.”

“Well, you have my full support, y/n,” he replied sarcastically on the other end, but you could hear his small chuckles.

Maybe, weekend is not that bad; and maybe, Taehyung is not the shittiest.

———

Hello everyone! I’m sorry about the sudden hiatus, but I’ll start to write again, slowly. This is something I write when I have time during my time off, and I hope you like it! I’ll still continue white gown, don’t worry. Until then, see you💓

also, i purple you.

i write sometimes;

#bts #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts imagines #bts yoongi #bts request #bts jungkook #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts jimin #bts hoseok #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #RISE SOFT YOONGI NATION #deaf!au

[theywerero0mates]

An act of kindness

#Nalu #fairy tail fanfic #My writing #fanfiction #stargazer-writes

[oneweekoneband]

Why Did It Take Me So Long To Notice That The Word Is “Fury” Not “Furry”?

Hello again. While I must admit to mild surprise at Dinosaur Jr.’s absence from the constantly growing roster of artists covered on OWOB, I should also state my attempted approach to writing about a band with no lack of wordage already available on its behalf. Though potentially futile, I will be trying to write something that benefits a cross-section of readers, from the unfamiliar but curious to the currently dismissive therefore purposely detached to the self-appointed superfan. All of this being stated, please understand that “attempted” carries one hell of an implied emphasis.

As covered in the previous post, I’m an active writer with many years in the trenches, though at least a half-decade in between my first toe-dips into this endeavor and the formative teenage moment when exposure to two Dinosaur Jr. albums (1987’s You’re Living All Over Me and 1991’s Green Mind, their second and fourth, respectively) combined to transform a fervent interest in underground music into a terminal, all-consuming obsession that almost seems to have dictated, in some way, shape or form, each lifting of a finger since. 

I’ve had a fair amount of writing published on the subject of this band, but most of it appeared during the first half of my now 18 years in this racket, barring the entries about several Dinosaur Jr. albums did make it into my second (and most recent) book, which carried the subtitle of 500 Essential American Underground Rock Albums 1981 - 1996 and a title that I absolutely hate so it shall not be revisited. On that note, attacks of full-body cringe have become as reliable as Christmas upon revisiting older writings, therefore I did not in order to guarantee no points or angles reiterated. But for what it’s worth, at some point in the early-00s, I did a long and embarrassing tribute to You’re Living All Over Me for the Perfect Sound Forever website as my first piece of writing on the band. Then once the spotlight was aimed backwards and topically in 2004-2006 for that period’s two-tiered reissue and reunion activity, I wrote a bunch of features about the Homestead and SST years (plus the early run of reunion shows) for several outlets. I interviewed both Mascis and Barlow, twice each if I remember correctly, and essentially felt like I said everything there was to possibly say about this band whose music more or less put me on a personal and professional course that continues to this day. I don’t feel like that anymore.

Two things to take into account before we move on: First, none of the subsequent entries will be this long, or at least that’s the plan. Secondly, this week will feature very little writing on the four albums of new material Dinosaur Jr. has released since the original lineup of J. Mascis, Lou Barlow, and Emmett Jefferson Murphy III (almost exclusively known as “Murph” but I find his full given name to be amusing) reunited in 2005…will be of the unflattering comparative variety. However popular it might be to jump to black-and-white, definitive conclusions, do not take this to mean I consider these albums to be bad or boring or anything of the sort. But do know that they are, despite what the rest of the world seemingly believes, inferior when placed against what I will be trying to push into your ears and lives going forward. And understand that Dinosaur Jr.’s major-label era (1991 - 1997) will be explored in a nooks-and-crannies fashion (meaning, we’re going to get into Mike Johnson’s discography), as I feel there’s a nice chunk of amazing music hidden in there that has been largely overlooked or misunderstood.

I am about as obsessed with music as I am the non-fiction ghetto in which I operate.  Therefore it might or might not behoove me to do something no one outside of this little world should waste their time with, and that would be lot of overthinking about a couple of crucial elements of artistic criticism and appreciation that appear to be under constant attack these days: context and nuance. There is no such thing as good-to-great creative nonfiction or journalism that lacks or misuses either, and the most difficult to translate of the two is, of course, context. 

These days it seems every talking head (or every record-store loiterer or live show barnacle) of similar vintage to myself should be wearing a t-shirt or rocking a bumper-sticker that says, “Ask Me What It Was Like Before The Internet!”. This is something for which I harbor a visceral and distinct distaste if not great embarrassment. Any historically-precise party line of assumed profundity is going to fail at transmitting the intended impact for two reasons. First is the obvious neutering of any meaning or relevance when beating a cultural audience over the head with something, year after year, generation after generation. The second is more problematic, as I’m not certain that being present during its heyday or for a following period of linear influence is necessitated so as to provide fundamental context needed to understand how or why a band was groundbreaking or brain-rearranging or whatnot. 

For example, Dinosaur Jr. was four albums and seven years active once its music entered my life in earnest. Still, when it comes to blanket mantras of the reality-removed like, “This Was Before The Internet!” or “We Didn’t Have Cell Phones” battle stories, usually issued as some delusional badge of struggle or evidence of authenticity, we’re talking something that means far less than is assumed to a recipient without the same experiential history. I usually cringe when I witness someone else trying to get this across to a younger generation, though I have yet to figure out myself how to do it effectively. 

Conversely, there are examples of past underground rock prescience (well beyond the legendary trio of albums released by Dinosaur Jr. between 1985 and 1988) such as Mission of Burma, Black Flag, NEU!, Brian Eno’s “Third Uncle”, The Feelies, The Embarrassment, Can, This Heat, The Fall, mid-period Sonic Youth, Husker Du’s SST years, Black Sabbath, Slayer, mid-80s Swans, and Miles Davis’ 1970 - 1975 output, to name but a few, that occurred long before I developed anything close to refined taste or the ability to let music have an impact on a deep emotional and intellectual level. Or, for that matter, the ability to breath air outside of the womb in some of those cases. 

Still, once properly blown away, I could easily wrap my head around how each example was way ahead of the curve, or scared the shit out of most listeners who came in contact with it in real time. Of course, it helps if the music in question resides in the exclusive canon reserved for that which is genuinely timeless. If it falls short of timeless it sure as hell better be a high quality, well-aged specimen of music that’s nonetheless easily identifiable as being from a certain era of yore. Much of material released by Dinosaur Jr.’s during the band’s first two phases of activity, which together span 1985 until 1997, fits into one of those two categories.

My first meaningful introduction to Dinosaur Jr. essentially played out in similar a similar fashion to formative life-altering moments spun by many writers, musicians, and fans of my generation or older. I suppose a warning should now be issued that you’re about to read yet another account of someone taping episodes of MTV’s 120 Minutes. I had a habit of setting the recording time to the shittiest quality of six hours and fitting three episodes of said show onto my parents’ VHS copies of HBO and Cinemax films like The Cotton Club and Bill Cosby’s Himself. Some time after its parent album (You’re Living All Over Me) was released, on a Christmas night when I was in my early teens, the video for “Little Fury Things” ran between a Michelle Shocked number and The Cure’s infuriatingly awful “Let’s Go To Bed” (that goes for the video and the song). At first I focused on other future life-alterers like the clip for The Fall’s “New Big Prinz” and Sonic Youth’s iconic “Teenage Riot” video, as Dinosaur Jr.’s idea of a video and that song were just too fucking dark and ominous for my young teenage mind. 

But because I had to fast forward or rewind through multiple Christmas-special live-in-the-studio tomfoolery from hosts They Might Be Giants along with crap that was somehow already “not for me” like Fishbone, Camouflage, Translator, and the not-that-bad-but-long-as-hell video for Love And Rockets’ “Dog End Of A Day Gone By”, I eventually came around to the three minutes and change that was the “Little Fury Things” video….like a moth to flame. I still have the very VHS tape I used to play and rewind repeatedly while my parents were at work during the day, blasting it through the shitty speakers of our 27” Sony Trinitron and running all over the floorplans of the three houses (well, one house and two apartments, if we’re to split hairs) I lived in during my high school years. The beginning of the video goes blank for a few seconds because I accidentally hit “record” on the remote amidst some furious bouncing all over the couches and chairs.

I seriously doubt there’s a song I’ve listened to, on my own accord, more times than this one and it still delivers a palpable, albeit much different due to time passed, charge as it plays at this very moment. The sonic dichotomy that makes this track exciting- powerful noise/distortion married to a huge, highly emotive pop hook-happens to be another dragon I chase to this day and in general has been one of the crucial elements of forward movement undertaken by post-hardcore, proto and first-gen indie-rock, punk rock, shoegaze and underground metal over the last 30 years. Because I still run into music obsessives, mostly younger, who are unaware of Dinosaur Jr.’s legacy and historical place as a paramount force of innovation, influence and well-aged listening excitement, I’ll close this entry with the aforementioned video despite it visually communicating far less than it does musically. 

Much has been written (years ago by myself and more recently in Nick Atfield’s 33 ⅓ book on the album it opens) about attempting to decipher or assign one’s own meaning and words to what is probably a bunch of lyrical nonsense. I think that’s organically symptomatic of anything that hits with this kind of power and non-cheesy melancholic punch. A personal fave, however, would have to go to the one-off “Hallelujah, the sunlight brings the red out in your eyes” line that opens the gate for an instrumental mid-section of riffs (where a guitar solo might normally be).

“Little Fury Things” official video from 1987′s You’re Living All Over Me

And here’s a couple of clips that hopefully illustrate how insanely loud and air-moving Dinosaur Jr. Mach I must have been as a live band, especially considering the average age of the members was 20 to 22.

1986 at UMass…

Germany, 1988, full set. Pretty good sound given the age/era.

#dinosaur jr

[maradona-vs-elvis]

.

Right around the end of September of 2017 my body started feeling different. Usually a night owl who would often work 72 hours straight, I started feeling tired, almost borderline fatigue by doing nothing. I would feel dizzy and wanting to faint. On October 2nd I decided to take a pregnancy test without telling my boyfriend about my suspicions. We were at a book store and I ran to the 7/11 across the street and I bought the test. We went to eat sushi after and I stepped into the restroom to find out I was pregnant. I immediately started shaking and threw the test in my pocket. On our way home I broke into tears and told my boyfriend the unexpected news. He immediately pulled over and made me get out of the car so he could hug me. After two nights of going back and forth we decided to keep our baby. Although it caught us out of nowhere and at a wild time, termination did not seem right for us. We both viewed what was inside of me as a part of him and I. As unexpected and unplanned as it was, this was a wanted child. It was our baby.

The next few weeks were a breeze, I was having an easy pregnancy so far. Besides being extremely tired I didn’t have much nausea or any of the other common symptoms. We shared the excitement with our families. I felt very lucky. The first thing my boyfriend and I bought for our baby were some seashells to hang in its room. We wanted everything to be themed after the sea. Every night and morning Kyle would talk to my belly. He would have funny conversations with the baby. It made me even more excited for the arrival of our little one. 

Sometime around the 12th week of my pregnancy Kyle and I were in bed together, he was randomly looking around and said “oh no”. I turned my direction towards what he was looking at. It was my sheets. There was some blood on them. We both went blank and I sat next to him. He immediately started crying. I held him in my arms trying to not be scared. I had read about bleeding being common in the first trimester. I told him things will be okay. However, I was concerned myself. I spent hours online reading about what it could mean. It didn’t help. I didn’t know how much blood was normal. The next day I kept bleeding, it wasn’t much. So on the next day and the next day. It wasn’t until a week later when I knew I had to get checked out. I went to a clinic and told them what was going on and they told me to go the emergency room. Reluctantly, I headed that way and called Kyle. He came rushing to my side from work. After two hours the doctor came into our room and told us that nothing was sure, it was hard to tell at this time. However, it seemed like I was having a miscarriage. My boyfriend and I froze. We had so many questions. After a few minutes we quietly went home together. We didn’t talk much about it that night. We were both a bit numb and went out for my best friends birthday.

It wasn’t until the next day when everything became real. I woke up due to an unbearable pain. My lower abdomen was on fire. I ran into the bathroom and as soon as I hit the toilet I heard what sounded like a gallon of blood hit the water. I looked in between my legs and saw all sort of stuff, both bright and dark red blood, clots and tissue. I cleaned myself up and laid down next to Kyle who was asleep. I immediately began crying. More than crying, I broke down. So much it woke him up and all he could do was hold me. The next few hours seemed very similar. We both were in bed, crying together. Talking about our baby and how much we loved it. Everything made us sad. After a whole day of moping we decided to drive up to Hermosa Beach at 11pm. We arrived at midnight and bough a balloon. We wrote a little note on it and let it go in front of the waves. We also bought a candle and a stuffed baby lamb. We lit the candle and set it next to the baby lamb on the sand facing the water. When we went home we left both the candle still lit and the stuffed animal there. The most meaningful part was a letter we wrote for our child. We put it inside a glass bottle and threw it off the pier.

The drive back home was just as sad. Holding hands and both crying. Sharing random thoughts and memories from the pregnancy. The next morning when I woke up everything felt terrible. My abdominal pain escalated. The most terrible pain I have ever experienced. I looked some more stuff up online. I learned that my body is basically going into labor. My uterus is contracting and working hard to get all the tissue and the fetus out of me. I felt like I had to prepare for worse. I had to be ready for the end of the miscarriage. What was probably going to happen was eventually I will expel a bloody sac the size of a plum with our 12 week old baby inside of it.

As I’m writing this my body is still going through this. It is the most pain I have ever been in. I’m being strong but I know everyone that I talk to can see how much physical pain I am in as I'm speaking, having to take deep breaths during the random contractions.

Currently I am at Kyle’s parents house. We made the one hour drive north to be with family. We got taken out to dinner. His two sisters had a gift basket for me with candles, a journal, a beautiful necklace and other little trinkets. His adorable five year old niece drew me a picture full of hearts and a sweet little drawings. His older sister cleared her bed for us, with brand new sheets, warm blankets, one of my favorite movies. His mom checking in periodically with medication and drinks. Although they know were not religious, his dad walked in asking if he could pray for us. All of us sat on the bed, closed our eyes. Some hugging, some holding hands. He said some of the most touching and heartfelt words I have ever heard. As I opened my eyes most of us were crying. They all know not only the physical pain that I am in, but the emotional toll this is taking on both of us.

Although I long for my family right now, especially my mom, I am glad we are here. I’m the one getting the phone calls and the hugs. I appreciate the people that are caring for Kyle. This is also his baby. It’s his loss as much at it is mine. We both love our sweet little baby.

I’m not sure what the point of writing this is. I don’t want to be a victim or a sob story. Something that has helped me a lot through this is reading the experiences of other mom’s who never got to hold their baby in their arms. All everyone says is “it happens for a reason”. I don’t blame them, it’s hard to find the words to say. That’s just not what you want to hear. Miscarriage is more common than we know. 1 in 4 pregnant women suffer from a spontaneous abortion. It is sad to accept the fact that I am on the bad side of that statistic. All of us who are that 25% are allowed to be depressed and feel lost. We’re grieving. We feel guilty. We feel as if our body failed. I failed my baby, I failed Kyle and I failed our families. I know that’s not the case. So if anyone is reading this. Be there for your friends or family members who go through this. Give them their space if they want it, let them be sad and cry and be distant. Tell them how much it sucks. That is the most real thing I have heard from someone. We told our friend Ramiro and he said “wow, that sucks.” It’s true, it sucks. But as time goes we’ll be okay and we’ll know it didn’t happen for a reason. It’s not that It wasn’t my time to be a mom, I just got dealt a bad hand of cards. Kyle and I will be fine. We’ll have some beautiful babies some years down the road. But my little lost baby will always be my first love. I learned a lot from this. I realized how strong love is. I loved, cared and nourished for someone I had never met. As short as I had my baby inside of me, it was beautiful and I had never felt something so precious. I also learned how strong I am and amazed at how optimistic I’m being through the shittiest time in my life.

A letter to my dearest sweet baby.

I’ve only known you for 12 weeks but oh how I love you. I loved you since I first saw the word pregnant pop up on that pink test. When I was six weeks pregnant I dreamt you for the first time. You were so beautiful. The most precious thing I’ve ever seen. You looked just like Kyle. Just as goofy but still so cute at the same time.

Thank you for everything you did for us. For making us better people. You made me realize how much I am capable of. You made me realize what I am made of. How much I love your daddy. How much he loves me and how caring he is. He made me feel very beautiful every single day. He would buy me flowers and make me food. He’d make me cards and serenade the apartment with the guitar. You made us fall more in love with each other. Kyle worked so hard for you. He’d be gone the whole weekend stuck at work. Trying to save money to give you all you need.

I’m sorry you never got to experience how wonderful of a father you have. How good of a singer he is and his lame jokes. I’m sorry I never got to rock you to sleep or hold you. I’m sorry we didn’t get to watch you grow and become your own person.

This is the hardest thing I have ever been through. I don’t know when I’ll stop crying. I’ve cried every living hour for two days. I know I'll never stop thinking of you though. I never met you but you’re the best thing that’s ever been mine.

I didn’t get to carry you for that long but I’ll always have you in my heart. I never met you but I know how magnificent you would have been. My body is in so much pain but I would go through this everyday if it meant you got to be here with us.

I will never get to hear you say “I love you, mama” but know that I love you. I know we’ll find each other some day baby.

Here is the letter we wrote for you in the bottle.

The lamb and candle we left at the beach for you.

Silly ass pictures of your dad and I. We don’t know how to properly cope so tonight we felt the urge to buy these stupid onesies and be idiots walking around in them. I’m sure you would have been just as weird as us.