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#ainwrites
thewriterain · 1 year
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he is laughing, eating yogurt covered in an array of toppings - toppings that i've chosen before, and i know he likes too - and i'm laughing along when it hits me just how much i like him. this isn't falling in love. falling implies something that didn't happen with purpose, with choice. no, this is growing into love. this is grabbing his hand and choosing to walk through this together, whether we smile or get hurt or everything in between.
oh god, i’m in love again // thewriterain
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thewriterain · 11 months
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you walked into my life unexpectedly and i decided that i didn’t want you to go.
so please,
stay.
i still want to come home to you.
i want to wake up next to you,
and fall asleep in your arms, all comfy,
and squeeze your hand thrice.
i want to hug you and have you lift me up,
and tug on your sleeve and go, ‘nee, nee’.
and tell you dumb jokes.
i want to watch you smile at me all the time,
and talk about our days in terms of stabs.
and yes,
i want to keep living with you.
i want to stay for a very long time.
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thewriterain · 9 months
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i have never been the girl that counts the months of a relationship.
that's a lie, by the way. i have always been the kind of girl that keeps count, that may not say anything but tracks the passing seasons quietly, grateful for another month that passes.
when i was younger, it was an obsession. it's been a month, wow! i would say to my friends, to the person i was dating. as i got older, the obsession lessened -- can you believe it's been 6 months? -- but persisted.
maybe because when i was younger i was acutely aware that many relationships don't last long, and i wanted to make sure every moment counted. maybe when i was younger i knew subconsciously that these weren't going to be long relationships, because it never occurred to me that i would count the years instead of months. i think i always knew that the relationships were temporary and would eventually end.
when i made it to a year with one of my exes, it felt like such an achievement. a year, i'd thought, but it had taken too much effort and felt like it had taken ridiculously long to get there. i'd wondered, at the time, if it was supposed to feel like that.
you asked me once if i counted and i said no. a half-lie, because i do, but it doesn't consume me as much as when i was younger. i think it's worth noting, but doesn't need to be celebrated with large gestures. with you it seems silly to keep track of months when i look at you and see years, when i can picture lifetimes with you. (i think i would find you in every universe we live in, but that's a story for another day). with you, it felt like i blinked and half a year had passed us by; was it not just yesterday i stole your plushie and fell asleep on your shoulder? was it not recently that i was secretly trying to spend time with you in hopes that something might happen?
doesn't time pass so strangely? god, but i don't think there's anyone else i'd want to pass this time with.
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thewriterain · 11 months
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gotta stop taking things too seriously.
gotta get it in my head to not let it get to my head and to breathe deep and let it go.
i am the sort of person that's once bitten, twice shy. if i ever think i've done something wrong, said something that wasn't right, you can bet your inheritance i'd never do it again. i'm a people-pleaser to a fault; i would sooner sacrifice pieces of myself to make others feel whole instead of saying no. i would rather bury these feelings in deep than allow them to surface and potentially hurt someone.
flaws, flaws. why do i have so many of them? why do people even want to be my friend, or have me in their life?
i'm no good, not cut out for this.
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thewriterain · 11 months
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lately i've been thinking of how unfair it must be to you, to have to wait for something with no promise of when.
lately i've been wondering if i deserve this patience, this reverence from you. when you say you miss me, it makes me happy that you do, but there's an ache in my chest when i see the look on your face.
when i start to feel this way, i go outside or look out my window and stare at the sky. you know how we both like to look at pretty skies? whether day or night, sunny or not, there is a sort of peace in knowing that no matter how separated we are, we are under the same sky and stars.
and when i start to doubt, i replay your voice messages and listen to how gentle you sound. i let your words wash over me until i am reassured once more, and i start hoping again.
one day. one day we'll get to see each other and i will hold you and feel comfy again and watch that smile of yours spread across your face right in front of me. i will kiss you and squeeze your hand and say i missed you, my love.
i miss you all the time.
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thewriterain · 9 months
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when i was a child my mom used to say i was too sensitive, that i should learn to not take things too personally. she was right in some ways, but i could never shake off those too words -- too sensitive. "too emotional for anyone's liking," was what she didn't say, but i heard it regardless.
you tell me i'm emotional and suddenly i feel like i'm 10 years old again. i know every time you say emotional you're referring to people who are unable to control their emotions properly, and this stings. i am...difficult to deal with at times. maybe it's selfish of me to think you were okay with that difficulty, that i could feel whatever it is i wanted and you would still be here.
you tell me you didn't mean it that way and this stings too. of course it's my fault, i took it too personally. it makes me want to hide these feelings, scared you will call me out again on what i simply think is human.
but you know what? you can't blame me for wanting to conceal my emotions when you were the one who made me feel bad for having them in the first place.
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thewriterain · 10 months
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"you looked prettier back then."
oh. ouch.
"that's not what i meant, it's just bad phrasing."
i understand. never mind that the words stung like a tiny million paper cuts.
"i meant that everyone has their prime and looks less pretty over time."
i am 20.
call me egotistical but i don't think i'm past my prime yet. call me vain but i think i grew up and look better than my younger self. call me shallow but i care about how i look, about what i wear.
tell me how do i recover from this. how do i look in the mirror and not cringe at my features. lately i've been trying out makeup but now i shudder at the thought of putting it on. opening my closet and choosing what to wear doesn't bring me joy, because tell me what is the point in caring what i wear when it won't change anything.
my self esteem was never good but it was getting better and now it feels like i have to start over. when i was 17 i hated looking in the mirror because i used to be covered in scars and bruises. when i was 18 i started shedding these marks and leaving it in the past. when i turned 19 i looked at myself and felt beautiful for the first time in years.
now i am 20, but i may as well be 17 again.
"...i'm sorry."
yeah. i know. doesn't fix things, though.
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thewriterain · 1 year
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i get misty-eyed if i think about it too hard.
he does love me, and i think it will be very hard for me to doubt that.
all the proof i need is the way he sounds over the phone, happy to hear my voice.
all the proof i need is the way he hugged me after not seeing me for two days, and the way i instantly saw him smile at me.
he smiles a lot more in my presence. i have no idea what i do or how i'm doing it but it is an honour to even bring a smile to someone's face.
i was shy when i first saw him again, him walking through the core to find me.
i missed him very much, but i have a tendency to block those emotions out when i want to focus. but when i saw him it was like something clicked and it felt like coming home.
being in his arms again, cuddling in my bed, felt like coming home. and i think maybe, just maybe, love isn't grand gestures or adrenaline or sweaty palms and fast heartbeats.
maybe love is him saying, 'welcome home, my love' as he reaches to pull me in his arms after a long day. and maybe love is me telling him 'good job' after a long day, and kissing his forehead.
i'm watching him sleep as i eat cereal, and suddenly i feel very very fond of him in ways i neither expected nor foresaw.
he looks so peaceful, wrapped up in blankets and i just know when i return to sleep again, he will roll over and pull me into his arms. whether he is conscious or not about this is a different story. the fact that he can do so unconsciously makes me feel that even in his sleep he wants me near.
me too. i always want to have him near me.
he always looks so soft for me, and when i rest my hand against his cheek, he always kisses the palm of my hand. i don't know if he knows that it is a gesture that makes me want to cry, because it is so, so gentle.
as someone who has struggled her whole life to find someone who will be gentle with me after the shitty relationships i have endured, this means a lot to me in ways i know people will never fully understand.
he is not perfect.
this relationship is not perfect.
but we are two people who are always trying, always striving to not take each other for granted, always having patience for one another.
and that, to me, is already more than i could ask for.
maybe my standards have dropped but he is redefining what my standards are.
i am not used to small, random gestures. he buys me small things to cheer me up. he thanks me, after i drive for him, after i do small things that i do not think are worth thanks but he does so anyways. he asks, 'you don't mind right?' before doing something that might make me uncomfortable.
he says small things add up and i never understood till i took a step back and saw the bigger picture.
and the bigger picture is this:
i have always struggled with relationships because i always ended up compromising a part of myself.
but around him i am fully, fully myself. no mask. no holding back parts of myself i was ashamed to show people. no having to beg for my space if i want it.
no forcing myself to fit into the moulds of what other people expected from me.
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thewriterain · 1 year
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it claws within, sharp nails dragging across until it settles into a dull ache in my stomach - a beast unfurling itself inside me, yawning as it awakes from its slumber. i try to shove it down, swallowing thickly as it tries to rise in my throat, barely succeeding in my endeavours. the beast roars in my stomach as it is forced down into the acidic pit of my stomach. i try not to flinch as it retaliates, its teeth sinking into my flesh.
ache and ache and ache. i can't get rid of its persistent gnawing. i can feel myself slipping, toeing the line between consciousness and endless, dreamless sleep. until--
wake up, someone hisses. their voice is harsh, commanding. it is not over for you yet.
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thewriterain · 1 year
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and is it wrong. is it wrong for me to look at you and wish for it all to happen again.
it may have only been two nights ago, and logic tells me i shouldn't, especially due to the unexpected consequences, but something in me makes me want to try again.
maybe it's less about desire and more about my wanting to be near you. to spend time with you in this way. maybe it's because i adore affection from you. i daydream, sometimes, about kissing you, about the way your hands and lips wander across my skin, about the intense emotion it invokes within me.
alas, i can't read your mind - i don't know if this urge engulfs you the way it does for me sometimes. and in a way i feel so horribly guilty about it all. it's not all i want; it is something i can live without if i needed to. but you appear to never desire it the way i do and because i love you -- because of all things, i respect you -- i shove these feelings down until i can feel them no longer.
so is it wrong, my love. because it doesn't feel right, either.
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thewriterain · 1 year
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entwined heat and distant longing.
except the entwined heat is getting more pronounced and the longing is not so distant anymore. you get up, and the sunlight saturates you in a certain way that makes something tighten in my stomach. your spine arches as you stand up fully; the curve of your neck tilts just so.
how do i explain that i want your fingers splayed across my waist, tracing along my stomach. how do i begin to describe my urge to have you beside me, above me, underneath me; anywhere, really, that puts your skin on mine. how do i say that you make me want. and want is such an intangible, fickle thing -- something i don’t make a habit of feeling -- and yet here i am, hands outstretched to grab you and tug you closer to me. 
but you turn and you raise your eyebrows at me in question and i try to dispel these feelings. i shake my head. you turn back, and the emotions return.
except now it is more pronounced entwined heat. and not-so-distant longing.
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thewriterain · 1 year
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and god, you were a drug, and i hated myself for being addicted to you.
excerpt from a story i’ll never write #21 // thewriterain
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thewriterain · 3 years
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tag yourself: my friends edition iii
kaitlyn: soft but ready to throw hands, sweet-smelling hair, multiple plushies, secretive, watching tv dramas, dresses casually but always looks good, hugs all their friends
nayli: dyed hair, open windows, impulse decisions, closets full of clothes, vodka shots, loud music, always busy with work or assignments, tries their best to show up for family dinners
amanda: combat boots and slip dresses, online shopping, scared of insects, multiple dms, tends to run a little late, likes making playlists, heart-shaped sunglasses
dida: dishevelled hair, easy to get along with, a total jock, overly generous, a little sad inside, flirts with anyone and everyone, insomniac, studies psychology, endless typos in everything
jamie: easy-going, tries hard and it pays off, always on top of things somehow, well-liked, constantly finding new things to do, shares their class notes, striped shirts, swears without using swear words
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thewriterain · 2 years
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if you wanted something untouched, then i am not for you. i may be untouched in the most technical way, but the truth is i was once marked by the touches of people who didn't deserve to. sometimes i catch a glance of myself in the mirror and swear my neck was still covered in dark patches, that my lips were still tainted with his taste and that no matter how much i scrubbed at my skin, his touches still lingered. i am not pure. i have the stains of multiple people sunk into my skin, and only time has allowed me to shed them. i regret it, i regret it, i regret it. but don't you dare come to me wishing for purity, for untouched beauty. i am not; i will never be. instead i'm an amalgamation of mistakes, of things i didn't fully agree to. i'm a fucking mess deep down but you have stayed, and i wish for you to stay longer. please don't let the darkness within scare you away. please accept me, this bundle of anger and kindness and anxiety and trying. i know i have been used and thrown away and i'm probably not the person you wish i were. but please don't let us fuck this up just yet.
a text i won’t send
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thewriterain · 3 years
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i stare at the photos of you in my gallery and think, oh god, i love you. i love you when you’re smiling and i love you when you’re crying. i love you when you’re here and i love you when you’re away. i love you when i’m angry at you, upset with you, sobbing over you. nothing could ever really make me stop loving you - because i know you love me too.
it’s unequivocal, irrefutable // thewriterain
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thewriterain · 3 years
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i woke up early today, which happens often. i usually go back to sleep and wake at a more reasonable time, but not before i check what time it is on my phone. i scrambled around in the dark, eventually retrieving my phone from under my pillow. my eyes squinted as bright light flooded over my face; i was about to switch it off when i noticed a message notification. "happy valentine's day," you'd written. it was straightforward, simple. but my face broke into a goofy grin as i realised: you thought of me. we're not together, and i don't ever expect us to, but this tiny gesture, these three words - they touched something within me. when i was typing out my reply, i debated asking you why you'd wish me these words, but i opted not to. i just hope that when you woke up and read it, you smiled too. i hope that it makes your day just a little bit better. i hope that it meant something to both of us, no matter how simple it was.
happy valentine's day // thewriterain
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