⛅

Helen Oyeyemi, from White is for Witching

― Joan Didion, Blue Nights

The thought of their mom being so upset that they'd let their relationship fall apart made Jeremiah a lot more emotional than he probably should be. She was his rock, though, so even in dream form Susannah had a deep impact on what he felt and what he thought as important. The apology surprised him, but only mildly. Jere had been planning on being the first to do so. . . that hadn't happened. "I'm sorry too." His voice was soft, but he meant what he'd said. Staying silent for a moment, he let Conrad talk, let him say what he needed to get off of his chest. "I'm not better off without you and it's also on me that I made you feel that way." Partially, at least. It wasn't like HE'D done much convincing otherwise. "Things are pretty shitty without you, man. It just feel like a piece of me is missing when I can't text you what happened to me in a day. Maybe we can - - - meet up? Just us."

there's an empty aching in his chest when jeremiah tells him that he feels like a piece of himself is missing in the absence of conrad. he couldn't quite figure out how to tell him that he felt the same, so he doesn't. only silently nods on his end of the phone call, teeth digging into his bottom lip to distract from emotions that pool in his throat. he wants to cry, wants to break down and apologize for all of it. go back to the start and do things over. but he can't, so he won't allow himself the release. "yeah, i.. i'd like that, jere. i was thinking about heading to cousins soon for a weekend away from all this shit at school. just not in the right headspace, you know?"

The Summer I Turned Pretty || 2.07

The Summer I Turned Pretty || 2.08

The Summer I Turned Pretty || 2.02

[Text ID: “I don’t want to talk about it. / I want to lie in what little grass remains / and try to fit your heart inside of mine.”]

— Holly Black

Part of growing up was growing apart, but this was not a normal case of that. Jeremiah and Conrad had been torn apart at one of the most vulnerable times in each of their lives and it felt as if they'd both been thrown to the wolves. Each went their separate ways and it felt like a nightmare that wouldn't come to a close, until tonight. Something felt DIFFERENT. "I'm not gonna make you sleep in your car." That was cold and Jeremiah was so fucking TIRED of being frigid. Glancing back to his brother, he gave him an inquisitive look. "I'm fine. . ." He trailed off. "I've been seeing her everywhere, in everything lately." The younger brother admitted. "She would be really pissed at us for doing what we did." He was well aware of this. "- - - I'm really glad you came, Con."

"yeah," he agrees, nodding his head, "me too." it was like a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from. the only person who understood, really understood, was someone that felt like a stranger most days. "she wouldn't have let it go on this long. probably would've sat us both down and hugged us until we apologized to each other. and meant it.. mom used to fight all of our battles for us, even the ones against each other. .. fuck, i don't know how to do this without her, jere."

— Jeanette Winterson, from “Gut Symmetries.”

— Warsan Shire

— Maza Dohta

― Franz Kafka, Blue Octavo Notebooks