a month of small reasons → unveil.day
the best thing i heard all week
today someone at the office said "worrying is the worst way to use your imagination"
and that's easily the best thing i've heard all week.
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@unveilday
a month of small reasons → unveil.day
the best thing i heard all week
today someone at the office said "worrying is the worst way to use your imagination"
and that's easily the best thing i've heard all week.
make something only they could open → unveil.day
she told me her favorite flower once
she told me her favorite flower once. once. in a random conversation on a wednesday night.
i showed up with them three months later.
she cried. not because of the flowers. but because someone actually listened.
31 doors, every one about them → unveil.day
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the calendar way of saying everything → unveil.day
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a month of small reasons → unveil.day
everyone has an opinion about us
everyone has an opinion about us. too fast. too much. too soon.
they can keep their careful little lives. i'll take the one that terrifies me, because it's the only one with you in it.
we were never built to be explained. we were built to be lived.
one gift, opened a little each day → unveil.day
people ask how we do the distance
people ask how we handle the distance like it's a sad thing.
they don't see the part where i fall asleep to the sound of you breathing through a phone, eight time zones away.
or the countdown on my wall. the flight number i already know by heart. the way "soon" has somehow become the most romantic word i own.
one gift, opened a little each day → unveil.day
i thought love was something you survived
i spent years thinking love was something you survive, not something that makes you safer.
then you fell asleep on my chest mid-sentence, trusting me with the most defenseless version of you, and something that had been clenched in me for thirty years finally let go.
i don't want to impress you. i want to deserve the way you breathe when you stop bracing for the worst.
love them slowly, day by day → unveil.day
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build a calendar by hand → unveil.day
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the calendar way of saying everything → unveil.day
i used to call the wrong thing love
it's not the racing heart. it's not the three days of silence that make one text back feel like oxygen. it's not the wondering where you stand.
i used to call that love because it was the only kind i'd ever been handed.
real love is quiet in a way that scared me at first. it's someone calling back exactly when they said. it's the strange peace of not having to wonder at all.
love them slowly, day by day → unveil.day
the text i keep deleting
i've typed it out maybe forty times. the message where i finally say it right.
that i was scared, not cold. that i pushed you away because i was certain you'd leave first, and i wanted to lose on my own terms.
i delete it every time. not because i don't mean it, but because you've moved on, and the kindest thing left is to let you.
one gift, opened a little each day → unveil.day
i want the unglamorous decades
i want the unglamorous decades with you. the matching reading glasses we'll lose around the house. the same argument about the thermostat for forty years. the way you'll still reach for my hand crossing a parking lot at eighty, out of a habit your body never unlearned.
give me the long, boring, staggering length of it. i want to be the old couple the young ones look at and quietly hope for.
a countdown calendar for someone you love → unveil.day
he drove ninety minutes through a storm
We'd been dating four months when my grandfather died. I called to cancel, swearing I was fine and needed to be alone.
An hour later, a knock. He'd driven ninety minutes through a storm with groceries and my favorite soup from two towns over.
He didn't try to fix it. He didn't say the right things. He just cooked, sat on the kitchen floor with me, and let me cry into his shoulder until I fell asleep.
We've been married six years. I still don't have a word for what he is to me.
one gift, opened a little each day → unveil.day
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31 doors, every one about them → unveil.day
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for the person you'd write 31 letters to → unveil.day
the sentence that ended our fight
i got mad at my boyfriend today.
he just looked at me and said, "i don't get why we waste time fighting if we love each other."
a month of small reasons → unveil.day
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