10/17/25, anastasiasyah
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10/17/25, anastasiasyah
It’s kind of dumb, but I want to talk to you all the time. Like, all the time. Which is annoying and needy and very unrealistic, because you have a life outside of our audio messages and sporadic phone calls. But I wanna talk to you. I want you to talk to me. I want your mouth to run a mile a minute and make me laugh until I’m crying. You’re always so good at that. You’re my best friend, my confidant, possibly my world. So we won’t make out in the back of taxis. As long as you hold my hand through crowds and send me another voice memo the next morning, I’ll be okay. Because I wanna talk to you. And I want you to talk to me. And you’re my best friend. And I love you. (In case that wasn’t obvious.)
“and maybe you’re my soulmate or something”
do you have any of the answers? can you spare some fucking wisdom? // journal entry 001
texts
spring felt like new love. soft mornings and new beginnings. i felt my heart race every time you touched my hand.
summer was like a lighting storm. terrifying but beautiful at the same time. i remember you made me feel alive but you also made me wish i was dead.
with autumn, death always follows. we’d always say goodbye one too many times. i didn’t think you’d mean it when you said you never wanted to see me again.
by winter we were strangers again. how do you mourn someone who never died? what am i suppose to do with all this leftover love?
- via (death-born-aphrodite)
but i have a lover and i have a best friend, i’m doing well and i hope u listen to this... u’ll always be on my list of all the good things that i miss.
“And with my jaw so tight I could have cracked my teeth, I told her I was happy for her.”
When I was a little girl, my mum put a Winnie the Pooh nightlight on the landing for me just in case I got out of my bed during the night. It emitted the softest, most golden glow, like a star had been put inside it, and it helped me overcome my fear of the dark. I grew up - I forgot all about this nightlight - and then he left and I was reminded of just how terrifying the dark can be. When he loved me, I didn't need to be afraid of it - I didn't even need to be afraid of myself. Now I'm sleeping with a nightlight again instead of him because it's the only thing that can ward off the nightmares, the only thing that makes me feel safe enough to fall asleep.
h.w