#suezhao

[blossomfully]

Being in your twenties is feeling like time is running out / wanting to do something with your life but not knowing what / is like falling in love and not knowing whether it will last / because the last time it didn’t / is getting pangs of emotions you thought you’d left behind when you turned 19 / is rewatching cartoons at 1am and realising you missed so many of the jokes as a kid / is romanticising tiny apartments / or any space to call your own / is reaching out to old friends / with no good excuse / is getting on a plane for a second chance / and finally forgiving because now you understand / is unravelling and not knowing if it means you’ll disappear / and losing faith and believing in fate and whispering clichés, head pressed into a pillow one weekend, hoping

[miiaspeaks]

I LOVE SUE ZHAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[igrewheartbones]

“If I could have done it all again, I would have loved you better. But I could not have loved you more.”

— Sue Zhao, I loved you in all the ways that I could

[kiarits]

“So I said: “please love me,” and what I meant was: please treat me gently. Please love me with a love that can be felt. That can be touched. A love that I can write about gracefully if and when it ends. Which I may look upon with pacific eyes, and say: “that was a good love. It had to end but it was good.”

Sue Zhao // Nothing but Strawberries

[blossomfully]

Tired of optimising. Tired of living to be productive, of never ending to-do-lists and overdue tasks. Tired of follow-up emails characterised as “just checking-in”, and the self-imposed pressure to grow and improve and be better and everyday better. Some days - the difficult days - I look back and everything is still the same. I’m still 18 experiencing the most devastating loss I’ve ever known. I’m still 21 falling in love for the first time, I’m still 23, losing it. I’m 25, afraid to be touched by anything that isn’t tepid, worried that decisions to be vulnerable will be another gross miscalculation of devotion, feeling totally unhinged, lost even despite revelation after revelation. How many books can you read about yourself before you understand? How many conversations, or journal entries, or journeys of self-discovery before you stop surprising and disappointing yourself at every juncture? I am not myself. I am entirely myself. I can’t ever lose myself even if I wanted to. Some days I can’t decide if I want to.

[blossomfully]

Sue Zhao // Dialogues on Love #4 // “Maybe I already do”

[blossomfully]

Sue Zhao

[blossomfully]

Sue Zhao