It’s crazy how low self-worth fucks with peoples lives
Looking through old photos and I found one of my junior homecoming dance. It was the night after my dad's funeral. My friend who'd stayed with me the entire week, in my bed, through all the tears, made me get out of bed that night. She pulled my shirt up over my head and told me to get in the shower. She washed my hair for me. She curled it. She rubbed foundation onto my face, lined my eyes, and put me in my dress.
She contacted my other friends who were feeling awkward and unsure of what to do and told them the party was still on, to meet at my house for photos before the dance.
They all showed up, and I went to the dance, and we all screamed and cried, and I took my first step to healing.
I haven't spoken to that girl in five years. Nothing happened. I moved away. She fell in love. We grew apart and into our own lives.
It's strikes me how beautiful the ephermeral nature of teenage friendships can be.
We may not need each other now, but there was a time when I needed her more than anyone. And sometimes she needed me.
And the universe put us together just then. Just when it was most important. Not a year too late or too soon. The same town, the same school, the same classroom where we could meet. Right when it mattered.
We come and go from people's lives every day, and along the way we may get a chance to love someone fully, just for a little while.
I'll remember every single one.
hello! my name’s ani and i’m a recent college graduate with a degree in creative writing. writing’s always been a passion of mine and this is just my space to post what i’ve been working on. i typically enjoy writing literary fiction, psychological thriller, and experimental pieces. but i also just write whatever comes to mind! hope you enjoy my ramblings!
other links:
main blog
book reviews blog
personal website
below, you’ll find some of my finished works and any wips i have (which aren’t many but still) likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy your stay🤍
Current WIP
With the Stars as My Compass: After ten years of wondering just who her father was, Noemi Clarkson finds the answer in a place she’d least expect. Following his funeral, Noemi is introduced by her estranged brother to the magical world of Mystics, people who are blessed by the Angels to guide wayward Spirits to the Castle in the Sky. When faced with the everchanging landscape before her, Noemi must ask herself if she’s willing to part with her normal life for the sake of the greater good.
Keep reading
everyone: what's your goal in life?
me: to write a story so soul snatching, so gut wrenching and so devastatingly beautiful that it leaves you crying at 3am when you have a 8am lecture/shift and it inspires people to write entire essays, to write entire fanfics, mood boards and playlists based on it.
you know you really love someone,
when you don't hate them for breaking your heart
Who else literally does not talk
Just a girl, wrapped in a blanket, with the wind whistling and the rain storming outside, doing her research for her thesis, in a paratextual friendship with twenty-years-old Mary Shelley she will never know about because we are two centuries apart
JERK
NO. You haven’t heard me.
Words don’t flow like they use to,
Movements don’t bloom like they use to,
Moments don’t fly like they use to.
You don’t even know the beginning of it.
Chances? Won’t let me take them.
Laughter, you know it so very well.
Mocking is second nature.
JERK-
Oh wait, that’s me.
I’m sorry, was it something you thought?
You contort your body like it's written in your code,
Come hear me hiss. Fear not, I don’t bite- Waiting for your calculated strike.
“A lover’s fancy is as creative as a poet’s, and when once it takes hold of any idea, it clings to it tenaciously.”
— Lodore, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Words[poetry, flash fiction, novels] and worlds from a writer called Lu. I sometimes post my photography.
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