When I was fifteen, I watched Glee for the first time, and I had never seen a show quite like it before: the kind of thing where girls with big dreams and boys with big hearts could be celebrated for loving what (or who) they loved, regardless of their ability to be picture perfect. Growing up, I found acceptance in the arms of the theatre kids, the ones who sang in the hallways much like the kids on this show, and I felt like maybe this show was something that could mean something to me, too.
There aren't a lot of things in my life that can really make me feel the way Glee did. I fell in love with those people and the way they felt what I felt: I cried over their tears, I laughed with their joy. I watched that show while the boy I thought I loved put me through a hell no girl should know. I watched that show while I tried to heal without anyone to help me. I watched that show with the guy who then became my best, and only, friend. I watched that show with the group of kids who finally started to teach me how to feel again. I watched that show in my college dorm room with my headphones and a stack of unfinished homework. God, I love that show.
Cory Monteith, to say that you were special to me would be an understatement, because I always had a soft spot for Finn and the way your smiles lit up rooms, be they television sets or LA boutiques. Those smiles made me smile during a time when I really wondered if I would ever feel happy again. Just knowing that you made it to where you are from the places you had been meant everything to me, because I was near the edge of a precipice of falling into the failure I had always worried I'd become.
When I was three, I decided I wanted to be a writer. I don't know when you decided to be an actor, whether it was life-changing or intense or maybe just a passing fancy at first. I think we all sort of know, in our core, what we are intended to do. It's a miracle that some of us are able to follow through on those dreams, able to allow ourselves to surge through adversity in order to expose our greatest passions to the world with the thin hope of acceptance. It is so hard to be vulnerable nowadays. I thank you for being vulnerable.
You were part of something that made me a part of something. You enabled me to open myself up, even the rusty parts, even the broken parts, and begin to mend. You were a face that I loved, regardless of whether you knew my full name, my life story. You were a voice that I treasured. You were a place where I knew I could rest my heart in its broken state, and know it would return to me whole.
When I was fifteen, I first watched Glee. When I was three, I decided I wanted to be a writer. I am eighteen now, and I am fragile, but I am determined. I am going to be a writer. I am going to do what I thought was impossible three years ago. I am going to be me.
You were thirty one, Cory. God damn it, you were thirty one. You were the wind beneath my wings.
I promise you I will be the wind beneath yours.
vaporwave
blakekathryn
2087
dailybridgerton
stormborns
