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Anxiety and loneliness level so high today.

Every now and then when I’m feeling like my relationship is particularly wonderful and stable, my anxiety likes to come up with things to make me feel sad and lonely.

One thing that comes up a lot lately is the thought of Leo’ ex that we visited during our trip to NY a couple months ago.

I keep thinking “what if Leo hadn’t been able to move here during the pandemic? She would have definitely ended up staying with the ex and family bc that place is like a second home to her. Would she have gotten touch starved and broken up with me? Or cuddled up to her ex for months even platonically?”

And then I wonder “WHY AM I THINKING THESE THINGS??”

I mean, that’s not at all what happened! Leo literally picked up her whole life in the middle of a pandemic, left all her friends and everyone else behind bc she wanted to be here with me! That’s not a little thing. Its gigantic!

I hate that I can be so insecure at heart like this. I see them be close for one day irl and I can’t stop being jealous and making myself miserable about fake scenarios that never happened.

I start feeling guilty for not being more trusting too but then I realize that if I really didnt trust her, I would never have gotten into a relationship with someone who’s still friends with their exes anyway. The only reason I can pop these terrible thought bubbles is exactly because I trust her. Because she’s shown me I can count on her over and over.

I’ve noticed recently that I mostly start having these thoughts when she’s not around. I’m starting to think that I simply get lonely and then my brain spirals and tries to make that loneliness worse. I did this with a lot of my best friends too and even with my family. Trying to convince myself I’m not important to people who care abt me. I guess that got even easier to do after my family proved me right haha…

I guess I still have some issues and trauma to work through. I’m gonna try my best. I have an amazing thing going right now and I want to be well so I can nurture it.

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Ross Gay, from “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude,” in Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude
I know I can be long-winded sometimes. / I want so badly to rub the sponge of gratitude / over every last thing, including you,
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jancsi kovacs
grizzles east, ambarino

circa. November, 1898

two dried flowers are stitched to this photograph, with a pin hole in the top corner from where it must have been hung somewhere, long ago.

it’s found in a leather wrapped parcel with a few trinkets, an address and a name faded to time scrawled atop it.

beauharris
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she’s  usually wasn’t  prone  to  night  terrors.  often,  her  brain  would  consist  of  her  silly  dreams  of  unicorns  or  a  selfish  vision  of  her  being  victorious  in  the  future.  but  something  shifted  after  her  seventh  year,  after  the  battle  that  lead  her  school  into  destruction  caused  the  reminder  of  death  &  smoke  to  linger  inside  her.  the  pureblood  would  spend  the  entire  day  trying  to  occupy  herself  in  order  to  dismiss  the  memory  of  watching  her  school  become  a  battleground.  taking  long  walks  around  her  manor  or  in  hogsmeade,  going  out  with  draco  &  blaise,  &  when  she  was  truly  desperate:  study  her  old  textbooks.  but  whenever  her  heavy  eyes  would  close,  no  matter  how  exhausted  she  was,  the  memory  would  find  itself  clearing  in  the  depths  of  her  dreams.  they  would  be  the  same  imagery  every  time.  she  would  see  him,  can’t  even  bring  herself  to  say  the  name  even  if  he  was  truly  gone.  her  arm  would  be  cradled  in  her  hand,  screaming  in  excruciating  pain  as  the  infamous  dark  mark  would  burn  its  way  into  a  clear  picture.  pansy  parkinson  didn’t  like  muggles,  finding  herself  in  a  similar  mindset  as  other  purebloods,  that  mudbloods  were  inferior.  she’d  torment  them  all  through  school,  crush  their  spirits  until  they  ran  away  in  tears.  but  that  was  at  most  just  bullying.  she  never  wanted  them  dead,  to  extinct  them  from  the  brink  of  the  universe.  bold  &  cruel,  but  she  was  also  a  coward,  shying  herself  away  from  the  battlegrounds  until  she  was  forced  to  witness  the  destruction.  the  memory  of  dead  bodies  of  students  she  once  knew  &  the  school  she  used  to  be  memorized  by,  now  having  many  more  cracks  in  the  walls,  drowned  her.  

image

body  feels  like  it’s  over  heating,  mumbles  &  whimpers  leaving  parted  lips  in  between  quiet  snores.  hand  is  grasped  on  her  arm  even  in  reality,  knuckles  turned  white  due  to  nails  finding  their  way  into  her  skin,  nearly  breaking  flesh.  at  sudden  interruption  of  nightmare,  her  throat  nearly  lets  out  a  scream  as  her  body  jerks  up.  chest  heaves  as  violent  breaths  leave  her  mouth,  eyes  forcing  themselves  open  &  immediately  glares  at  her  arm,  removing  her  hand  &  letting  out  a  small  sigh  as  she  admires  it’s  smooth  &  blank  pallet.  eyes  flicker  up,  room  still  dark  but  the  moon  glare  from  her  window  allows  her  to  make  out  draco’s  figure.  ❝  draco.  ❞  voice  shakes,  allowing  walls  of  her  vulnerability  to  shatter  down,  something  she’ll  only  allow  for  the  blonde.  doesn’t  say  anything  else,  flings  her  arms  around  his  neck  &  pulls  him  in.  she  needed  to  feel  something  real,  &  he  was  something  solid  to  lean  against.

& ㅤ *           @iraescible​        ····         meme.      /   [nightmare] for draco to wake pansy from a nightmare

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nothing like a bit of jealousy… cw: alcohol, club setting, slightly suggestive. 

—clearing out the askbox: mob!tom—

You can feel the temperature of your blood slowly starting to rise as you lean back against a wall, staring out across the private section of Tom’s club. Your grip on your drink tightens as you swallow darkly, gaze focused, almost murderous. It’s a little after midnight, and as you listen to the deep sounds of bass music thrumming through the club, you realise that you’re seething.

It’d been Tom’s idea – a night out, at his favourite club, with you and all of his friends to let off some steam. His staff had been excited to welcome you all into the establishment for the night, roping off the VIP section and bringing out round after round. The servers in the section have been nothing but considerate, attentive, and thorough all night – a little too thorough, because now you’re resting against the wall you’d retreated to for a breather, watching as one of the serving girls gets close to your boyfriend.

You aren’t usually a jealous person. You’ve been with Tom long enough to know that his eyes are only for you, and his heart is firmly held in the palm of your hand. However, despite knowing this, you can’t help but feel very, very, very jealous as you watch them. The server talking with Tom had started their conversation standing, but has since sat down, slid up his booth, and is continuing to talk to him with her hand on his arm. Every time she laughs, she seems to inch a little closer, and Tom? Tom seems to be completely unaware of the way her eyes keep dropping to his lips, and the very calculated way that she stops every few moments to readjust her hair.

A part of you feels bad for her. Clearly, she doesn’t know that Tom’s a taken man. You know there’s no chance in hell she’d try to get it on with her boss, in front of his girlfriend.

…Is there?

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Decembers are for dreaming of all the things to come. Just turn towards the eastern sky, that’s where the sun wakes from. You’re at the end but what lies next is all the you will be. So close your eyes and wait for dawn. The future’s yours, you’ll see.

// Ellis Nightingale

beforevenice
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