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Hey~, welcome to my writing blog! You can call me Eden!
I'm kind of anxious and shy and terrible at communication but I'm always open to chat and talk about anything I swear lmao
Trying my best for my goated @okiedokrie and our twin sons
This blog has some nsfw content so minors pls dni with nsfw posts.
Feedback is always appreciated! ♡
...and it'd help my garden grow 💐
Disclaimer: None of the texts published on this blog is meant to represent the real human beings and should by no means be taken seriously! ♡
Unless stated otherwise, all dividers are by @cafekitsune
[a/n] only reposting this for the #1 'delete' supporter @synthetickitsune.
junhui has been staring at the text messages on his screen for what feels like hours now, to the point where the words are all beginning to blur together and are far from legible. there’s a constant throbbing in his head and it hurts. it hurts so badly but the ache in his chest is so much worse. he thought he would die from the pain. he hopes he could die from this pain. more than anything, he wants to be able to delete the conversation from his phone and to delete you from his memory so he can go on with his life as normally as he could, but he feels like he’s stuck. stuck in the last moment he had with you a few months ago.
you were standing before him with your bloodshot eyes, your face glistening with streaks of tears. anyone could see that you were dejected and, above all, exhausted. you were so drained from trying to hold this relationship together, your broken voice still sounds so fresh and clear in his mind like it was only yesterday when you had told him those words.
he remembers muttering a scared and quiet “what do you mean?” and you inhaled shakily before wiping angrily at your tears.
you were annoyed that you were crying over this, over him, yet again. “i’m tired of being the only one that’s putting in an effort, jun.”
your voice was strangely calm and junhui prayed that you would yell at him instead. he would have even preferred that you throw a shoe at him or something. anything to indicate that you still cared because right now it felt like you’d given up on him. he took a step toward you, reaching a hand out and you backed away from him. junhui flinched at your hostile reaction and lets his arm fall limply back to his side.
“i’ll do better,” he pleaded, “we can work things out.”
you chuckled dryly at his words and shook your head before staring impassively into his eyes. “how many times have you said that jun?” you let out an exasperated sigh, “i’m sick of hearing the same things over and over just to see that nothing has changed.”
junhui dropped his head in shame because you were right. he had said those words to you so many times before, more times than he ever should. when it was evident that he wasn’t going to acknowledge your question, even though it was a rhetorical one, you picked your duffle bag up from the floor and headed for the door.
“we’re done.” your tone was the coldest he has ever heard you.
junhui’s head snapped up immediately at your words, the two words he dreaded the most. but you had made your mind up and you were out of the door and his life before he could say another word to try and convince you to stay.
"NW" Zadie Smith, "the Hands of Friendship" in Yerevan (@metamorphesque). "Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë (@flowerytale), Franz Kafka’s Diaries (@hungryfictions), "Summer night by the beach" Edvard Munch, "A Magic Mountain" Czeslaw Milosz (tr by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee), "Answer July" Emily Dickinson, "Four Sunflowers Gone to Seed" Vincent van Gogh, The Diaries of Franz Kafka (@shisasan)
