Do you remember?

No title available
No title available
Today's Document
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosimo Galluzzi
d e v o n
KIROKAZE
sheepfilms
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
Peter Solarz
art blog(derogatory)
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

tannertan36
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

izzy's playlists!

Love Begins
Show & Tell
almost home
I'd rather be in outer space šø
seen from Indonesia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from Brazil
seen from Nepal
seen from United States

seen from Vietnam
seen from Türkiye
seen from China

seen from South Africa
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from T1

seen from Türkiye
seen from Philippines

seen from Venezuela
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@ladycaity
Do you remember?
Sisters
The act of celebrating my loss is astounding... 35 years. Turned meaningless. Turned sour. Turned bleak. Memories precious now only to me. Literal ghosts are being traded back and forth for kicks and giggles. More pawns in the game, I guess. The game I've stopped playing. The game I'm too TIRED to play anymore. My mask cracked too many times. And that was my downfall. I couldn't Fawn ALL of the time after ALL of these years. It... was exhausting. The mask was too heavy and my arms were merely human arms, after all. I slipped up. I was TOO human. TOO much. Well... I'm too tired to battle anymore on what that even means. So, please, with warmest wishes, and best regards, find less.
All of your flaws and all of my flaws, when they have been exhumed, you'll see we need them to be who we are; without them we'd be doomed.
I don't believe in fairy tales but I believe in you and me.
Beauty
She was beauty. She was everything beauty could be and encompass. She's ash now. I handle that every day. It bites at my throat. Sears my esophagus. My eyes ... tired and bereft you'd think they'd be empty of tears by now, but no. They forever pool and crash with the tide. Her tide. Her island. A distant photograph.
Sheās a rainbow and I am a difficult man.
I miss you every single day. But today I try to smile. And remember all the good.
But you can skyrocket away from me, and never come back if you find another galaxy, far from here, with more room to fly, just leave me your stardust to remember you by.
Conspiracies
I make up conspiracy theories now. That you canāt be gone. You just canāt. You ran away. Away from me⦠sure, that happened too. But you only ran away. I sit and ponder what I did. Was I too clingy? Love too much? Or did you get caught again? Did you need to disappear? Did you think this was easier on me? ā¦itās not. My therapist would certainly agree with me there. A journal full of āDear Jo,ā would agree with me. The fact that Iām getting your skullflies on my legs.Ā
But you wouldnāt destroy me that way, and I know it. So you must be gone. And then it all comes back. It all comes backā¦
āYour heart is the most unreliable resource in your body right now.āĀ
ĪĻĻιε ελĪĪ·Ļον.
Stunned
Thatās what I was⦠Stunned. As I collapsed there in the laundry room, reading the texts come across my wrist āstay strongā ⦠āher heart didnāt make it.ā I wasnāt strong. How could I be? I sobbed āNO!ā loudly and repeatedly for what felt like two hours but might have just been one. Nick came home in the middle and found me. Found me bawling āNo, no, no, no!ā And didnāt know what to do. I paused only long enough to tell him that you were gone. He seemed stunned, too. I couldnāt really take my mind off the repetitive ānoās long enough to notice for sure.Ā
Shell
I think about how I acquired all these things posthumously. Your blanket. I wonāt sleep under my own covers because I bought the blanket Mike got for you⦠so Iād have my own, just like you. Itās been months and I havenāt slept IN my own bed, but ON. I canāt help it. Such a curious thing. This blanket. This blanket that never even touched you but somehow means so much to me. The things you bought that day⦠a zombie paci ā never gets unwrapped. Stuffies stay in bed or neatly lined up never to be touched again. I got your silly unicorn⦠the one I bought for you. The one I nearly begged you not to love so much but you couldnāt help it. You loved it. So I bought it. What a lovely birthday we had that day. If only we had made it to another. I am hurdling toward mine and know no lovely box of cookies is coming my way. Nothing extraordinary will happen. Nothing extraordinary happens at all anymore. Iām living life as a shell of the person I once was.Ā
Numb Nonsense
Iām numb now. The wine has worked its fire through my belly. So numb I shouldnāt feel any pain and yet you linger on in my heart, mind, soul⦠Taking over once again in a cloud of pain so intense I feel immobilized and fearful that this pain is all Iāll ever know. That its swirling darkness will consume me and all I hold dear. That it will never turn off, Jo, never go away. Iāll never be whole without you because I donāt know how. And how cruel a world to live in where I canāt tell you how I carry you with me wherever I go. How much you mean to me still. How thereās hardly a moment to spare without you on my mind. How much I love you still though battered and beaten I may be by your loss.
Phantom Limb
My therapist compared grief to a phantom limb. That instead of feeding synapsis at a limb no longer there it mind feeds love and emotion out to a person no longer able to complete the connection. I like the metaphor. Thereās a therapy technique called āgroundingā in which you have to convince yourself the memory youāre experiencing is painful and kind of therefore serves no real good purpose, so your mind needs to move on. Itās hard. Grounding is hard. Mostly because the memories come pounding down like rain. I never got to say goodbye. She died too suddenly for any of that. But for that year and some months she was my person. Iām not trying to replace her because no one ever will. No one ever can. But maybe, just maybe, I can experience something. Iām broken but Iām working on it.Ā
Do me Luigi; all your friends know.