This Valentine’s Day We All Need An Inspiring Rival Who We Share Values And Insane Competitive Tension

I FORGOT TO UPDATE ON THE VENDING MACHINE’S SLOT 66

Okay so I got the raspberry Twinkies, but unlike what I was expecting, they were just regular Twinkies with a raspberry-flavored coating. They were incredibly far too sweet, and I had a hard time finishing them. Anyways.

My friend and I were talking about lunch and what snacks we wanted, and I asked if she was allergic to anything. She said “cats” and tbh that was a rather horrifying moment before I realised she didn’t mean for eating.

I know it sounds stupid but sometimes fictional characters are so hot that it physically hurts me and I don’t know what to do about that.

Genius idea:

Broadway Newsies, but it’s Barbie.

I always think of Dazai whenever I hear “Demolition Lovers” by My Chemical Romance, because, y’know, yeah

I haven’t had a good long cry in a while and it’s annoying me. I need a fictional thing to lose my heart to.

I Used to Write

I used to write. I used to have paper and pens and pencils and crayons and markers stuffing my purse to bursting, and I used to USE them. My purse would be full of character ideas and dialogue and descriptions of lights and sounds and emotion. There were words in everything I did, my mind narrating my every action as if I were in a parallel fantasy world.

And now my purse is full of pens that don’t work, pencils with no lead, and half-filled papers with faded words that will never know their fate. My mind only speaks my fears. I feel nothing but regret and longing for a time where I could feel more. I used to write.

Why I Can’t Bring Myself to Tell My Friends I Love Them

I used to tell my friends that I loved them all the time. If I saw them doing something I thought was cute, or if they made an awesome joke, or if they tried their hardest on something, or when I would get the occasional rush of gratitude for them, I would tell them. Love was meant to be expressed when they were still there to receive it, and love was meant for everyone. I wanted everyone to know that love was meant to be given liberally.

Back when my ex best friend cared about me, she was so supportive. She would tell me that there was good in the world and there were things to be living for, and she would always be so happy and in love with life. She was a small person, with a round face and the warmest hugs, and she would tell me that I was worth it. That I was worth loving, that I was amazing, that I made her life better. My second new best friend does that too. She does all of that. They’re different people, but in terms of what they provide me they’re nearly the same, and in terms of appearance, they look similar. And that scares me because there’s a reason my ex best friend is no longer my friend, and to see the same feelings start for someone similar is terrifying.

When I finally acknowledged my first best friend after moving on from the last one, I noticed she was giving me everything my ex best friend couldn’t, but I was resigned to the idea that she wasn’t as verbally or physically affectionate. I still love that best friend, but those are my love languages, and I don’t usually get them from other people. And then my second best friend came into my life and gave me exactly what I wanted and needed that was missing from my first best friend. But now there’s a problem. Because my first best friend isn’t very verbally affectionate, she probably wouldn’t like it if I told her I love her, and even if she did, I would be opening up to her too much and that might push her away. My second best friend would absolutely love it if I told her I loved her, but I’m too worried that I’ll put all my energy into that friendship only to slowly realise that I’m not getting anything back.

I want to love them. I do love them. And I always thought it was a cliché motivation when a character was like “I’ve been hurt before and I don’t want to be hurt again”, but that is exactly how I feel and I couldn’t even trust my second best friend when she told me that she would always care about me because that’s what I told my ex best friend and now I hate her with a burning passion. I hate songs like “Night Changes” or “The One That Got Away” because they remind me that something you think will be infinite could end within a moment, and I hate reading fanfics where characters end up far away from each other with no possible way of regaining the relationship they had before and/or in canon because that’s the truth of life. People will come and go and you can’t do anything about it. Love is never going to be enough if it’s only going one way. Life isn’t a show where everything comes full circle; there are going to be loose ends and regrets and there will be no consolation or closure and everyone leaves eventually no matter how much you or they care. I love my best friends now but if I admit it to them then it solidifies the idea that there’s something to lose, and I can’t stand that. I don’t want to be hurt again. Despite how genuine my best friends may be right now, there will be a day where they don’t care. I don’t want to reach that day. I don’t want it to continue to that point. I don’t want to tell them I love them.

I finished Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo at one this morning, and wow, what a ride. That money was well spent. I will have to bide my time before I can go raid another bookstore.

Music is powerful because it hurts. It actually, very physically hurts. It feels like a thick balloon is inflating behind your chest and it's spreading to your stomach and arms and fingers and you want to curl into yourself as if that will stop it from growing but it continues on. The nostalgia will only ever be nostalgia. The weekly visits with a friend are now barely even a text every few months. The fandom you dedicated your life to is barely even a passing thought anymore. The ideas that ran through your head now gather dust as a forgotten word document. Life is better, sure, but life used to have them. Why couldn't life be better and still keep them?

This would have never happened if you hadn’t listened to that music. But oh how beautiful those memories are, and there's a smile on your face despite the balloon threatening to pop if you listen a moment longer.