is it raining where you are?

lydia-mae, 30, remains half-empty

[wintercorrybriea2]

tbeenbrazyyy

[worstgirlinamerica]

[nyasm]

[fromhersoul]

[389]

photo credit: @laurarbenson @adamjk

[achillesinhighheels]

[dreamstars]

[xanaxfarts]

SONY: PlayStation 2 (2000)

[treeoflife2011]

[matabixo]

It’s 19 weeks tomorrow and nothing surrounding you has changed since day 1. Everything else adjacent to you has changed, but the part of me with you remains exactly the same.

It’s been 15 weeks since we should have sat with you to celebrate your birthday. As you weren’t here, I fought for your presence with us instead of yet another meal at any other restaurant that we were used to going to without you. For the first time, I was sat in the centre of the table, not off to the side where it would usually be just you and I, but I felt lonelier than I ever have. Every meal out, we would sit on the end of the table together talking, eating, giggling, or in silence just enjoying each other’s company whilst everybody else spoke about work and life. We would be alone together every time, but that silence is no longer comfortable nor peaceful as it was.

It’s been 35 weeks since I last received your evening call. You would ask me how my studies are going, what I’m having for tea, how work is, how my friends are, what I’ve been up to, how the cat is, when I’m next up home, when my next event is. Those catch-up calls had plenty of quiet moments in between the chatting, which was peace knowing we were connected to each other and were with each other for that short time. You would call me so late because you knew that my working day was long and sporadic, and I would be afraid to call each time in case you were in bed, but you always made sure to call.    

It’s been 39 weeks since I last saw you at a family party. We spoke about my upcoming house move, as to which I knew you would have the full new address in your diary as soon as the move was done. You kept every detail of mine available to you, and you never missed a moment. I sat with you to talk about the upstairs of my sister’s new house that you couldn’t get up to see for yourself, and I made sure that you saw the photo of your life partner that my sister had up pride of place in the dining space. This year, at your home with you now gone, I saw pages and pages in your diary with my address history noted for the past 10 years, each one with a neat line through for the next. The last address that was written without a line through it isn’t my address anymore. My current home has never been written in your diary.

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

Grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. This is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.

k.b. // unknown

[starlit-meadow]

[hirxeth]

Nocturnal Animals (2016) dir. Tom Ford

[matabixo]

you look stunning in your recent pic..hope you are ok

that’s very sweet thank you! i hope you are too :)

[xanaxfarts]

The Sims (2000)

[pnglove]

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]