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@chvrlotttte
one of my least favorite things is that I canât teleport
as i continue to become a better woman. iâm really starting to understand the importance of remaining silent. everything doesn't need your input or opinion. everyone doesnât deserve a reaction from you. some situations are really meant to bring you out character. know when to speak up. most importantly know when to remain silent.
Silver Haze (2023) dir. Sacha Polak
I love when platonic love and romantic love is so blurred that it doesnât even matter anymore. All that matters is the devotion thatâs there, the unwavering devotion
these hips don't lie but the truths they tell are strange and disquieting
My love, I was so wrong. Dying is the opposite of leaving. When I left my body, I did not go away. That portal of light was not a portal to elsewhere, but a portal to here. I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I ever could have imagined. So close you look past me when wondering where I am. Itâs Ok. I know that to be human is to be farsighted. But feel me now, walking the chambers of your heart, pressing my palms to the soft walls of your living. Why did no one tell us that to die is to be reincarnated in those we love while they are still alive? Ask me the altitude of heaven, and I will answer, âHow tall are you?â In my back pocket is a love note with every word you wish youâd said. At night I sit ecstatic at the loom weaving forgiveness into our worldly regrets. All day I listen to the radio of your memories. Yes, I know every secret you thought too dark to tell me, and love you more for everything you feared might make me love you less. When you cry I guide your tears toward the garden of kisses I once planted on your cheek, so you know they are all perennials. Forgive me, for not being able to weep with you. One day you will understand. One day you will know why I read the poetry of your grief to those waiting to be born, and they are all the more excited. There is nothing I want for now that we are so close I open the curtain of your eyelids with my own smile every morning. I wish you could see the beauty your spirit is right now making of your pain, your deep seated fears playing musical chairs, laughing about how real they are not. My love, I want to sing it through the rafters of your bones, Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples, I am more with you than I ever was before. Do you understand? It was me who beckoned the stranger who caught you in her arms when you forgot not to order for two at the coffee shop. It was me who was up all night gathering sunflowers into your chest the last day you feared you would never again wake up feeling lighthearted. I know itâs hard to believe, but I promise itâs the truth. I promise one day you will say it tooâ I canât believe I ever thought I could lose you.
love letter from the afterlife, andrea gibson
it's so crazy how you actually have to live through everything
itâs always the same on these days you know. i open my eyes and for a moment i forget whatâs coming. time to avoid instagram and all social media - they are full of shout outs by people who donât know how lucky they are. canât look at my emails because bunnings will be telling me to buy you a present. i wonât get a call from mum cause she canât look outside her grief and hold space for anyone elseâs even after 15 years. 365 more days that i couldnât tell you about - but i felt you. especially when i proposed. a hand on the small of my back. a steadying presence. confirmation iâm going the right way. maybe itâs wishful thinking but it doesnât matter. she wouldâve loved you and you her. grief is truly endless but so is the love.
we miss you. i miss you. always.
cool beautiful women complimenting you is like ten years of therapy