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It's Not Fair - Blog Posts
Literally only on chapter two of Sunrise on the Reaping and I already wanna throw up
I might just start writing about Timothee!Willy Wonka because... damn....
Two robbed kings who won public vote but were screwed over by the juries this year
Anyways me /nsrs ?
I MEAN AHEM — :3
i need 2 kiss a man so bad. qhat the fuck
I have decided that since no one here who follows me actually knows me, and there's like two of you who saw my last post, this page will know become a space for my lonely lesbian thoughts.
Please enjoy, and feel free to join me in my loneliness.
the last few weeks I’ve been waiting for a call that’s never coming. for my phone screen to light up with a message that the logical part of me knows is never going to arrive.
I’ve spent 2 years grieving and coming to terms with my grandmother’s death. as every occasion passes, I’ve struggled with the fact that I’ll never hear her voice again.
my grandfather, bless him, was like a cat with 9 lives. he probably should’ve died in a freak accident 20 years ago, but he always made it through. I always thought out of the two of them, he’d be the first to go, as dark as it sounds logically, it seemed like the way it would be. he was riddled with health problems and his luck for escaping death surely had to catch up to him, so although it seems vulgar to think that he’d be the first to go, logistically it made sense. but he wasn’t.
he survived so much, that a part of me thought he’d always be there, because he always made it through. two years since my grans death, and he made sure that we knew how much they both loved us. he called every occasion and sent messages to check up on us, making up for two people. he was good like that, a bit of a hippie and believed in the funniest things, but he was fun to talk to. I miss our chats.
two days after his death, in the midst of a panic attack, I hastily scrolled through my phone, desperate to find anything with their voices, just to know that I could hear them. that I had this part of them I could keep. I didn’t even finish the voice notes when I eventually found them later that day. I screamed and I cried and I sobbed ugly begging for it to be some sort of sick prank from the universe. I don’t think I’ll ever come to terms with it. To think of them in the past tense is something I’ve yet to grasp.
grief has been embedded in my soul since I was born, and it’s never left.
I want them back. It’s not fair. I don’t deserve to know pain this deep and grief this vast at such a young age.
It keeps me up most nights how I never got to say goodbye. did they know I loved them? did they know how much they meant to me? I hope they do, they did. I don’t think I’ll ever know peace or the comfort they gave me.