And while you’re off fucking your new girlfriend, the ditzy stoner with a bad dye job. I hope memories of me hit you like a train. I hope you remember that I was the one that talked to you all night when your grandma died and it was me that held you in my arms on the days where all you wanted was to be dead to the world. I hope you remember when we made KD in our underwear and that you kissed me while I was sitting on the kitchen counter. I hope you remember that I was the one who sat through those horribly made horror movies with you just to make you smile and that I was the one who listened to you rant on and on about how much of an asshole your dad was. I hope you remember that I was the one that convinced you to quit smoking cigarettes and that I was the one that always accepted your dumb apologies. I hope you remember that it was always me. You know it was. I hope you know that it was always you too. I hope you remember that I loved all of you. I hope you know it was exhausting. But above all, I hope you’re happy.(H.S) Just so you know - dumbdaisies (via perfect)
If you take a young man and woman and they both tell a stranger that they work in the same restaurant, it’s very likely that they will assume that the woman is the waitress, and the young man a cook.
But I thought a woman’s place was in the kitchen? Not when she’s being paid for it. I can’t believe it took me this long to realize the implication of this. A woman’s place is one of servitude.
this fucking hit me like a fucking train
This is Chester. When I was in Afghanistan I got a care package from one of those “Adopt a Soldier” programs that lets families send care packages to service men and women who are deployed overseas. Anyway, I got this care package, and it came with the usual stuff: Baby wipes, crackers, peanut butter, the Dad threw in a pack of cigarettes, and there was some jerky. But there was also a little beanie baby gold fish and a hand written note from a 7 year old girl that said
“Dear Soldier, (I wasn’t even mad)
I hope you are doing well. I’m sorry you have to miss thanksgiving with your family. This is my friend Chester. He keeps me safe from monsters, but I think you need him more than I do. I hope he keeps you safe from the monsters you’re fighting. Take good care of him for me”.
You bet your ass that little fish was in my pocket every time I went on patrol.
And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.(via bl-ossomed)