with love, eri | w.l,e

finding myself with words

[withlovebyeri]

--as you go, i'll be here waiting

[withlovebyeri]

All my writing attempts now on IG. 

Please support me.

With love,

Eri

[superayks]

“When you a love a person. You don’t forgive them, because you never hated them in the first place. You give them countless chance, trusting them over and over because you know that person is worth it. You’ll take the risk again and you wouldn’t mind even if you get hurt always. You won’t stop letting that person in because that’s how love supposed to be. It’s not selfish, you love the person and you would always welcome them with open arms and tell them they’re finally home.”

—

[roseaffirmations-deactivated202]

notes on self forgiveness.

because it’s not always other people. sometimes it’s us.

realize you’ve made a mistake. acknowledge it, but do not let it consume you. think to yourself, this is in the past now and i can move onto better, bigger & brighter things.

apologize if needed. do not guilt trip people into forgiving you. simply acknowledge your mistake and ask them what you could do to repair it. if they do not accept your apology or do not believe you, move on. hold yourself accountable but to not turn yourself into a martyr. 

think of what you can improve. can you be more compassionate? perhaps more forgiving? or more honest? what can you do to make sure you learn from this?

do not dwell in guilt. guilt is useful, but too much of it will leave you blinded. let yourself feel every feeling knowing it is temporary.

remember you are human. each and every single one of us has fucked up. you’re not alone in this. all of us have things we are not proud of, things we are ashamed to say out loud, things we’ve done that we would rather forget.

say it out loud: i forgive myself. give yourself the same warmth and compassion as you’d give to a close friend or relative. do not harm or self-sabotage for simply having made a mistake. remember there are better days ahead of you and if you wish to talk, i am here always! you are loved and capable of improving. there is still hope for you.

[desultory-suggestions]

She’s like warm days, sunshine, honey and love.

[interstellartooru]

i’m so in love with domestic sweetness.

cooking dinner with the one you love while they wrap their arms around you. taking quick kiss breaks in between folding fresh laundry. washing each other’s hair in the shower. giggling and rolling around in the fresh sheets you both just finished putting on. dusting while showing off your latest dance moves and having your sweetheart show off their vocals.

it’s so comforting to have someone that you just enjoy making a home with. because chores done with someone you love isn’t such a chore after all.

[meme-xx]

Moon and Venus (Jun. 20, 2020)

[amargedom]

““You once told me that our fingerprints don’t fade from the lives we touch, is that true for everybody or is that just poetic bullshit?””

—

[writingsforwinter]

for the late twenty-somethings who lie awake at night afraid of getting older

Sometimes it stills you, late at night: not the memories of red solo cups or the winter fir scent of gin, not the glitter of tight skirts and the soft blur of college parties, but waking up in the bed of the first person you ever slept with, sun undoing its braids through the window. The warm ache of their body above you, spine arched into pillow, the furtive quiet of catching their gaze in the dining hall at breakfast afterwards. 

How each moment, then, stretched forward like an amber necklace, each bead captive with want. When the world wasn’t your oyster but rather your orchestra, conducting your life through a tangle of longing that at times felt impossible to suffer. You were a woman, then, but a child too, years blown open ahead of you like spun glass. There was the first kiss with your back pressed against a door, the first taste of wine dizzy in your stomach, the first time you forgot to call home on the weekend. That first day of skipped class spent down by the beach, a gaggle of other girls in tiny silver hoops, hands full of strawberries passed around a circle, that first winter in college hunched over a textbook with snow cocooning the library window. 

Everything felt real, then, in a way it never was before, like the cellophane wrapper had been torn off of life or the shade slowly lifted away. How the world became, in an instant, so much bigger than you’d imagined; how before you’d been anyone and everyone, but now you could at last be someone. 

And now, sometimes while you lie awake at night, after all the “firsts” have slunk away and everyone else is getting married, some on their first divorce, the fear creeps in so quietly it’s as if it’s holding its breath. The fear that life was beautiful but never will be again, that no kiss will ever taste as sweet as the first, that the thrill of discovering yourself will always be muted once again. The fear that the best days of your life have passed and all you have left is a few photographs. 

But you are so young still, and you still have every feeling that you had before. There are still hundreds of nights left for you in which desire unfurls like a Molotov cocktail between you and a stranger in a bar, nights in which you run to catch the train home for holiday break, laughing softly to yourself as your boots slip on the ice, hundreds of nights spent in an apartment you will finally call yours as the city lights yolk themselves to the stars. Hundreds of evenings spent round the fire with those young women whom you once passed strawberries to, only now passing stories of their new lives. And in those lives you’re still present, not in the background but fully in the present, and that orchestra still plays quietly when you close your eyes.

You don’t have to be married yet, or divorced, don’t have to have children yet, or at all. You can still bury yourself in textbooks in graduate school, still feel that same gentle pang of possibility when you travel to a new city on your own, still hand boxed wine back and forth in the middle of an empty soccer field with the stadium lights shining down like shooting stars. Still lean your head out the window of a seven-story apartment and watch the traffic weaving through the city streets below, still order ice cream cones in the dead of winter just because, chocolate dripping down your fingers and staining the snow.

No feeling disappears just because you’ve felt it once. There are feelings you haven’t yet felt, haven’t yet begun to imagine or conceptualize, ones you aren’t even aware exist. A world that has opened once is a world that has not yet closed. There are so many windows left in your universe. Some lead to storms and others lead to sunsets, but the glass will always remain clear. 

Go on, now. The rest of your life is waiting for you. You just have to walk to the door and let it in.

[rabbrakha]

I don’t want to be 

your entire world, no. I would be happy just to be your morning coffee, your hanging car keys, your wallet. Something seemingly insignificant, but if lost throws off your entire day.

[withlovebyeri]

I wonder what would be of us if you, my love, have confessed years back. 고등학교 때부터 반했어. Would we last as long as we've been friends?

- with a decade of friendship, i wonder how you kept it cool (snippets, July 2020)

[withlovebyeri]

Each day have been gray

What was once a fast life

now appears to be in slow-mo

All my life I chased time

as if I was losing it

and maybe I do

Always on-the-go, always out

for staying still even for a night

I find myself drowning

in my own failures,

disappointments,

and heartbreaks

Now without anything to

numb my mind with,

I fear of my own demons

and if I will even come out the same

- Stayed at home, isolated (rejected contest entry, May 2020)

[quiet-nymph]

Keikorosecat on Instagram

[chained-heart-deactivated202311]

they say you can’t love someone without loving yourself first. that your first love has to be you. and i think it’s because we all think we’ll find love when we least expect it, when really, that’s when love finds you. when you’re happy by yourself, it’s different than feeling lonely and constantly thinking you need someone to fill that empty space in your heart. love should feel effortless; it should not feel like you’re on the edge of a cliff, hesitant and afraid to fall. reciprocation should feel secure, and it should be obvious. love that is meant to last will choose itself, and it should always come in both directions, not just one.

@wordsbreathe c / it takes two

[djklmnx]

[detachedfromeveryone]

The right people were always going to stay.

[goodreadss]

“We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in.”

— Ernest Hemingway (via goodreadss)

[itsthesmallthing]