Happy 48th birthday, Monica E. Geller! (April 22nd, 1969)

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@keepyournoseoutofmybook
Happy 48th birthday, Monica E. Geller! (April 22nd, 1969)
I'm so tired and so terrified, I do not know how much longer I can go on.
“There’s nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can’t see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.”
talk to me about molly wrapping harry gently in her arms after the battle and kissing his temple and telling him ‘you will always have a home with us’
talk to me about arthur noticing when harry gets too quiet and distracting him by asking him if he’d like to help rebuild sirius’s motorbike
talk to me about bill seeing the warning signs that harry’s been triggered into an anxiety attack and grasping his arm and telling him to ‘breathe, harry, it’s okay, you’re safe’ and sitting with him until he’s calm
talk to me about george growing even closer to harry because suddenly he understands so much better and he realizes that this kid knows, too, what it’s like to feel so fucking alone
about ron keeping track of how much harry’s eating so on the days when harry can only manage to push food around his plate ron makes sure to ply him with tea all day and asks his mum to make one of harry’s favorites for supper
about charlie getting fed up with the reporters who mob harry everywhere he goes and grabbing a camera from a bloke who will not stop snapping pictures and chucking it in a fountain
percy fidgeting awkwardly, not quite able to meet harry’s eyes, and apologising for that letter he knows ron told him about
hermione making harry look her straight in the eye and telling him it’s okay not to be okay, and harry not knowing whether to be grateful or annoyed because he suspects that she’s actually been researching whatever the hell’s happening to him
ginny letting harry have his space but also knowing when to insert herself right into that space so he can’t shut down and push everyone away because she’ll be damned if he thinks she’s going to put up with that
luna finding him at one of the many parties he’s expected to attend and asking him ‘do you suppose you’d rather be here or stuck on the bottom of the hogwarts lake surrounded by extraordinarily aggressive plimpies?’ in such a solemn voice that harry can’t help but laugh
mcgonagall taking note of the circles under harry’s eyes when he stops by the school and suggesting a visit to the hospital wing before he leaves so madame pomfrey can give him something to help him sleep
hagrid inviting harry over for tea and just letting his boy sit outside in silence, fang’s head on his knee, as hagrid works in his vegetable garden
neville asking harry if it would maybe be okay if he comes along with him to see teddy some time so during the next visit they end up sitting on the floor in andromeda’s lounge on a cloudy afternoon, these three orphans, playing pretend with stuffed animals shaped like wolves and dogs and lions
kingsley kicking harry out of the ministry for the night because ‘for christ’s sake, harry, you’ve been here for twenty-two hours and molly’s owled me TWICE now GO HOME and get some rest or i will personally throw your “chosen” arse over my shoulder and toss you into the floo’
talk to me about people taking care of harry and helping him manage his ptsd
I’m not crying. you’re crying.
I will truly miss you and your heart.
S08E07: Put Me In, Coach
I don’t know. Sometimes you get a line, a phrase, sometimes you’re crying, or it’s the curve of a chair that hurts you and you don’t know why, or sometimes you just want to write a poem, and you don’t know what it’s about. I will fool around on the typewriter. It might take me ten pages of nothing, of terrible writing, and then I’ll get a line, and I’ll think, “That’s what I mean!” What you’re doing is hunting for what you mean, what you’re trying to say. You don’t know when you start.
Anne Sexton, from No Evil Star: Selected Essays, Interviews, and Prose; “How Does A Poem Come Into Being” (via violentwavesofemotion)
I never realized how heartfelt the song was until today.
I’ve lost count of the number of times I thought my heart was going to burst from all the things I feel but can not ever bear to say out loud. Most of the time I have to take a bazillion deep breaths or stare somewhere else or watch a movie or two or sleep it off. But sometimes I end up not sleeping for days, thinking about all that I do not get to say, going through all the ways I could say it. In my head, I’ve said it a million times, like rehearsing for a part I know I’ll never get to play. That’s what it’s like.
Most days I pray I was born braver and bolder and a lot more honest than I am. I really wish I was.
somebody make it stop
every day, i tell myself that this can't be true. then i learned to tell myself that this is just a phase, that this will eventually pass. and then i wake up and it's been two years and nothing has passed but time. and nothing is better. this is not a phase. this is my life now.
i don't want to hear one more "you can do it" or "it's gonna be okay" because i just want it to stop. make it stoppppp
a couple of weeks ago, i had my last breakdown and it wasn’t pretty and it wasn’t timely and i was alone. in my dorm room, with all of my room mates all warm and cozy in their own homes. i was left alone, and everybody knows that leaving a sad person alone does no good. and i thought that my next episode would come sooner, like contractions that grow closer as the baby comes.
this is not me being a whiney 17 year-old who says she is “so sad and so depressed”. this is me, 20, so weak and so desperate and so helpless. because there is nothing i can do but cry whenever things get worse. because that’s all it ever is, that’s all that ever happens. nothing ever stops and nothing ever gets better and nothing ever is okay.
everything is bad and everything is ugly and everything is so ridiculous and so surreal but everything is true. and this is all that i have. bad, ugly, ridiculous and just plain pathetic.
and i do not know where to turn to anymore for the fear of being judged. or maybe i do not know where to turn to because i can no longer talk about it. because i am so sick of it. but sometimes, i think i do not know where to turn to because back then i had you, and you made it all okay and you made it feel like one day they’d go away. and then you walked so far away and you stopped being there and stopped saying the right words and now i am so scared to turn to anyone at all.
i just want this to stop. make it stop. make it stop.
2.13 // 4.11
Doctor Who Gifset The Doctor and Donna Noble- Two of the very best of friends that all of space and time will never forget.
gusto ko ng pakawalan ang bulong ng damdamin, mistulang sigaw na ako lang ang nakakarinig. gusto ko ng sabihin ang nililihim, katotohanang hindi ko ma-amin-amin.
clara oswald week: day one | favorite episode ↳ listen