its been a long year man

Apricity: The warmth of the sun in winter.

Why is winter so beautiful?

I can never bring myself to call winter pretty or stunning because my mouth cannot form those words together as an accurate way to describe winter.

The fresh powdered snow reminds me of place I grew up that I can no longer remember the name of.

The bitter winter has always brought the sweetest feels mixed with comfortable frosty isolation that I cannot get enough of.

I'm from a small town where winter is never anything special, but we still decorate the center of it with Christmas lights and menorahs.

It's not special but the feelings it invokes will ones I feel in the grave.

Flâneur: A person who walks the city streets with no particular purpose, often just observing and experiencing the city life.

Maturing for me was realizing the being alone wasn't as lonely as I use to think it was.

My solitude wasn't boring; I just didn't know how to spend time with myself after spending so long with other people as somebody else.

Maturing was realizing that just because you prefer your own company over someone else's doesn't make you a shut-in and that preferring a quiet life was absolutely okay.

It's okay to focus on myself and my wants + needs.

Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as complex as your own.

I'm afraid that if I ever have a child and they are born as a girl that I will not be able to love her.

She will have the qualities that I have spent my life hating myself for.

I will not be able to look into her eyes and call her beautiful when the memories of hiding myself to be someone else are still so fresh.

I'm afraid the hatred I carry for myself will become a burden for her when she realizes that we are the same.

I cannot hurt my own flesh and blood the same way I bruised my flesh and blood because I beared the curse of having a body in this virulent and malicious world.

I will not do to her what I have done to the woman in the mirror.

To you.

To the people who’ve asked, “What’s wrong with you?” Just for me to reply with “What isn’t?” in an attempt at humor

To the people who wonder why my location turns off in the middle of the night

To the people who’ve seen me sitting on gas station side-walks with a two-liter of Coca-Cola in one hand and a comically large cookie in the other

To the people in my English courses who’ve seen me get excited over writing an essay

To my sister who has seen me looking like nothing more than something that can be described as a “sopping wet creature”

To my mom who has to deal with me walking around in the middle of the night because I woke up from nightmares and saw me trying to get rid of the feeling of emptiness yet anxiety-riddled butterflies cramming themselves down my throat and into my stomach by washing it down with frozen tap water

To my closest friend and confidant who’s been witness to the weird panic attacks I get when I’m sick

I love you,

so please don’t leave

what? solivagant existing not enough? shame on you, shame on your family.

crash

why tf did I have to get sick bro