i've made a huge mistake

Rowan. She/her. ????????????

[ohokayright]

“i never could’ve imagined a reality where ro and i would be getting divorced before our one year wedding anniversary.”

we got engaged too soon (6???? months into our relationship?) 

we got married too soon (whirlwind, deciding to ask an astrologist who gave us a timeline less than 2 months out??)

WE SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN MARRIED

i also couldn’t have imagined this reality -- i wouldn’t have gotten married if i could

“i am endlessly heartbroken over the loss of a lifetime of joy and laughter with the person i love the most”

making sure that everyone knows they still love me

this is POSSESSION

it was not the life i chose! it was their life!! they chose our life every step of the way

they always made me compromise 

there hasn’t been joy or laughter in our relationship for months

they’re high at least 75% of the time we’re together; of course it felt like joy and laughter

“moving through life in the wake of my person falling out of love with me feels like wading through tar”

made sure to remind me that i’m still their person when a huge sticking point for them was that I have called other people (aka mack, aka the person who just held while i sobbed over this stupid fucking post, who has opened her home to me without blinking an eye, and who has made me feel the most loved i’ve felt in months) my person lately 

they also made sure to tell people that i’ve fallen out of love with them. as though falling out of love is just something that happened. as though i wasn’t tryin desperately to love them. as though i didn’t love them way past the point i should’ve, through things i had no business loving them through

i didn’t just fall out of love. i woke up and realized that what i had been calling love was control and possession and all of these things that look a lot like love if you don’t look too closely

and that i started feeling real love from the people of my life!! and with that real love, i couldn’t hold on to the love that mitch was giving me and call it love anymore

they had to make sure that people knew that I fell out of love with them -- blaming me publicly. but relationships are two people, and even in this they couldn’t take ownership over any piece of this that was their doing

even when i told them they’ve made me the bad guy our entire relationship, they still couldn’t help but do it one last time! publicly

they have always been more public with our relationship than i’ve felt comfortable with. they’ve always disregarded my feelings when it comes to posting about us or even about me on instagram

for example, like 2 months ago when someone yelled a slur at me at a autozone and i called them crying -- they very quickly made a public instagram post without asking me

they TAGGED the eat lab in it, disregarding the consequences that could have for me

i had multiple friends text me -- which is how i found out about the post

JUST LIKE WITH THIS, where i only logged on to instagram because multiple people texted me about our breakup in a way that made me think mitch had done something super public

they took away another choice!! and now i have friends and family texting me to say they’re sorry when i literally haven’t even thought about telling other people because i’m focused on myself right now

isn’t it so funny that this world shattering thing happens and while i’m focusing on picking up the pieces of my life, they’re focusing on making sure that they feel validated by people on the internet that they don’t even like

they don’t want relationships, they want validation!! and that’s how our relationship ended too -- because they didn’t want me, they wanted validation

they’re doing this because they are feeling frustrated and upset and alone and  like i’m villainizing them. they said they were hurt because none of “my people” have reached out to them. and then when my people continued not to reach out them, they started feeling like they needed to get their own support. so they did what they do, and sought external validation from the internet, because even if it’s hollow and empty and not real, it feels real in the moment. and so when they are feeling alone and unloved, they can open their instagram, and know that at least 100 people are enough on their side to like their stupid little post. but it won’t last. they’ll wake up tomorrow and feel hurt and upset and alone and log on to instagram and see that they have maybe 10 new notifications, and that’ll patch the hole in their heart for a minute or two. until it stops patching the holes because it’s not real. the likes will stop coming and they’ll have to sit with the fact that even though they say that i’m the one who stopped loving them, they threw me under the bus publicly for some hollow validation. which, doesn’t sound like love to me?? and hasn’t felt like love for a long time

[ohokayright]

they! made a post on instagram about me falling out of love with them, as thought it’s a thing I just decided to do. as though there weren’t months and months of consideration, of hoping and waiting, of TRYING behind that loss.

and i know that I don’t get to have opinions about this sort of thing. i know that they are just trying to make sure that people know that they aren’t the villain. i know that they are feeling scared and lonely and unsure and still?? it hurts

but all of this hurts. there’s no part of this that doesn’t hurt.  

[ohokayright]

lol nothing like your life imploding to make you want to revive your old tumblr.

a lot of really, really important things are about to happen to me! and i haven’t been keeping the important things for a long time, and i NEED to keep this 

so i’m back ig

[universal-invariants]

does a tweet ever bring you hope

[infinitely-gentle]

[lagoonhag]

wouldnt it be cool to just like not feel nervous about everything all the time

[rubyetc]

Handy flow chart 

[demiiwhiffin]

important !

[jodiefoster]

me: soft, full of love, forgiving, kind, bright  also me: can hold grudges for years, bitter as hell, already cried twice today 

[warsanshirefan]

self doubt, self loathing, low self esteem, low self confidence, poor self image, skewed sense of self, so cruel to yourself, say sorry. —warsan shire

[allmymetaphors]

[thefrizzkid-deactivated20220425]

[expressions-of-nature]

by hayea

[yearsofmagicalthinking]

Intuition: I tried to make a home out of you but doors lead to trap doors, a stairway leads to nothing. Unknown women wander the hallways at night. Where do you go when you go quiet? You remind me of my father, a magician… able to exist in two places at once. In the tradition of men in my blood, you come home at 3 a.m. and lie to me. What are you hiding? The past and the future merge to meet us here. What luck. What a f*cking curse. Denial: I tried to change, closed my mouth more, tried to be soft, prettier, less awake. Fasted for 60 days, wore white, abstained from mirrors, abstained from sex, slowly did not speak another word. In that time my hair, I grew past my ankles. I slept on a mat on the floor. I swallowed a sword. I levitated. Went to the basement, confessed my sins, and was baptized in a river. I got on my knees and said amen and said I mean. I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I threw myself into a volcano. I drank the blood and drank the wine. I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God. I crossed myself and thought I saw the devil. I grew thickened skin on my feet I bathed in bleach and plugged my menses with pages from the holy book, but still inside me, coiled deep, was the need to know… are you cheating on me? Cheating? Are you cheating on me? Anger: If it’s what you truly want… I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph all three of us. Immortalized… you and your perfect girl. I don’t know when love became elusive. What I know is, no one I know has it. My father’s arms around my mother’s neck, fruit too ripe to eat. I think of lovers as trees… growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light. Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see me? Everyone else can. Apathy: So, what are you gonna say at my funeral now that you’ve killed me? Here lies the body of love of my life, whose heart I broke without a gun to my head. Here lies the mother of my children, both living and dead. Rest in peace, my true love, who I took for granted. Most bomb p*ssy who, because of me, sleep evaded. Her god listening. Her heaven will be a love without betrayal. Ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks. Emptiness: She sleeps all day. Dreams of you in both worlds. Tills the blood, in and out of uterus. Wakes up smelling of zinc, grief sedated by orgasm, orgasm heightened by grief. God was in the room when the man said to the woman, “I love you so much. Wrap your legs around me. Pull me in, pull me in, pull me in.” Sometimes when he’d have her nipple in his mouth, she’d whisper, “Oh, my God.” That, too, is a form of worship. Her hips grind, pestle and mortar, cinnamon and cloves. Whenever he pulls out… loss. Dear moon, we blame you for floods… for the flush of blood… for men who are also wolves. We blame for the night, for the dark, for the ghosts. Loss: Every fear… every nightmare… anyone has ever had. Accountability: You find the black tube inside her beauty case where she keeps your father’s old prison letters. You desperately want to look like her. You look nothing like your mother. You look everything like your mother. Film star beauty. How to wear your mother’s lipstick. You go to the bathroom to apply your mother’s lipstick. Somewhere no one can find you. You must wear it like she wears disappointment on her face. Your mother is a woman and women like her can not be contained. Mother dearest, let me inherent the earth. Teach me how to make him beg. Let me make up for the years he made you wait. Did he bend your reflection? Did he make you forget your own name? Did he convince you he was a god? Did you get on your knees daily? Do his eyes close like doors? Are you a slave to the back of his head? Am I talking about your husband or your father? Reformation: He bathes me until I forget their names and faces. I ask him to look me in the eye when I come home. Why do you deny yourself heaven? Why do you consider yourself undeserving? Why are you afraid of love? You think it’s not possible for someone like you. But you are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. You are the love of my life. Forgiveness: Baptize me… now that reconciliation is possible. If we’re gonna heal, let it be glorious. 1,000 girls raise their arms. Do you remember being born? Are you thankful for the hips that cracked? The deep velvet of your mother and her mother and her mother? There is a curse that will be broken. Resurrection: Something is missing. So many young women, they tell you, “I want me a hu — see, all them make me feel better than you.” So how we supposed to lead our children to the future? What do we do? How do we lead them? Love. L-O-V-E, love. Mm-mmm-mmm. Hallelujah, thank you, Jesus. I just love the Lord, I’m sorry, brother. I love the Lord, that’s all I got. When your back gets against the wall and your wall against your back, who you call? Hey! Who you call? Who you call? You gotta call Him. You gotta call Jesus. You gotta call Him. You gotta call Him ‘cause you ain’t got another hope. You are terrifying… and strange and beautiful. Magic. Hope: The nail technician pushed my cuticles back… turns my hand over, stretches the skin on my palm and says, “I see your daughters and their daughters.” That night in a dream, the first girl emerges from a slit in my stomach. The scar heals into a smile. The man I love pulls the stitches out with his fingernails. We leave black sutures curling on the side of the bath. I wake as the second girl crawls head first up my throat, a flower, blossoming out of the hole in my face. Redemption: Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin. Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kit. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You passed these instructions down to your daughter who then passed it down to her daughter. I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said “Nothing real can be threatened.” True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we’re gonna heal. We’re gonna start again. You’ve brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers. You’re the magician. Pull me back together again, the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk. Knot after knot after knot. The audience applauds… but we can’t hear them.

by Warsan Shire for Beyonce’s Lemonade album (I’m pretty sure all these words are by Warsan Shire, if they’re not let me know)

[rubyetc]

[ohokayright]

person: caffeine raises ur anxiety levels

me: *hands shaking, heart pounding* okay, that sounds fake but... okay

[theoldestchorusgirlintheworld]

I feel fundamentally dishonest using the phrase “low key” so often because inside my heart and soul I’m actually and unambiguously and inappropriately obsessively 100% full scale high key about literally everything I ever think and feel and look at.