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cherry valley forever
Today's Document

roma★

oozey mess
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Cosimo Galluzzi
untitled
The Bright Sessions

Discoholic 🪩
official daine visual archive
EXPECTATIONS
KIROKAZE

@theartofmadeline
occasionally subtle

ellievsbear
Color Me Curious
Sade Olutola
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom

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seen from South Africa
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seen from Türkiye

seen from Algeria
seen from Australia
seen from Algeria
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seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States
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@skylines-and-silhouettes
La collectionneuse (Eric Rohmer, 1967)
I’m here. You’re there.
You’ve said these words to me about a hundred times.
That you miss me.
That nothing has changed.
That you still love me.
I’ve heard you say them a million times, over and over. But the words were never actually uttered from your mouth. Instead, just a figment of my imagination. Sometimes you showed up at my doorstep, sometimes it was me at yours. Sometimes it was a joyful reunion, others, not as much. But it always ended the same.
We were together.
We were happy.
We were us again.
January 12, 2019, 7:18pm.
That’s when my imagination came to life. That’s the moment the words I had heard about a hundred times came out of your mouth.
That you miss me.
That nothing has changed.
That you still love me.
Do you know how it feels when something you’ve only dreamed about becomes a reality? It should feel good, right? Peaceful, maybe? I thought so, too, except this felt like a freight train hit me at full speed -- leaving nothing behind but dust.
My Imagination fooled me.. It dressed you up as a beautiful man, with a beautiful accent, saying beautiful things. How could I be so silly? Nothing about this is beautiful. I’m here. You’re there. This isn’t a movie.
Doesn’t every girl dream of this: falling in love with a foreign man in a foreign place? Spending every waking moment getting to know what makes each other smile. Laugh.
Things end and it’s sad for a while. We’ll both meet someone new, but deep down, we know they don’t compare.
Years later, that beautiful man from that beautiful place comes back and says everything you’ve wanted to hear. He shows up at your door with flowers. It’s pouring rain. You let him in and that’s the end.. The end of the movies, anyway.
In real life, he doesn’t show up at your door, and he definitely doesn’t have flowers. In real life, you get a drunk text. Maybe it would have been better had I been drunk too; except it was half past 3 on your side of the world and only half past 7 on mine. You were saying a long list of things you won’t remember, but I’ll never forget. I keep reminding myself that this isn’t a movie. Reminding myself that they’re just empty words. Empty promises.
In real life, that beautiful man, with the beautiful accent, saying beautiful things turns out to be not so beautiful after all.