Literal Literature Trash

WHEN CLARY SAYS SHE’S GONNA DIE

WHEN THE QUEEN SAYS THE CURSE CAN BE BROKEN

WHEN JULIAN AND EMMA KISS

DIEGO IN GENERAL

KIT AND TY’S FRIENDSHIP

WHEN MALCOM COMES BACK

WHENEVER ZARA OPENS HER GODAMN MOUTH

WHEN LIVVY DIES

THE ENTIRE BOOK

So hey, Tumblr.

I’ve grown so much since starting this fandom account, I don’t think I can put into words. But I’ll try. It’s a nice feeling, knowing the words I will never speak to other people will exist in this little corner of the internet. I’m sort of new to this, but TW for lack of motivation, suicide, body issues, unhappiness, sexuality etc. I’m sorry if I miss anything. 

A year ago from now, I was an unhappy person, though I didn’t realize it. Maybe I did, I don’t know. I was a closeted bisexual, scared to come out for fear of being mocked. I don’t know why; i live in a very tolerant area, at least for the South. But, I stayed locked away.

I also did things for other people. Now, that isn’t a bad thing, but I didn’t really do stuff for myself. Well, I suppose I did, but I’ll get to that later. Each grade earned and class taken was to make my parents proud, each smile for someone else. I didn’t like to buy stuff for myself. I never asked people to hang out, I just assumed they wouldn’t want to hang out with me. I didn’t join clubs, unless you count soccer as a club. Even then, I did that for my father, so he wouldn’t worry about my fitness. I disliked my body- I hated having to look at myself. I stayed alive for everyone but myself. Not saying that that’s a bad thing, but it was not ideal. 

I allowed two weeks for myself every year. It was a summer camp, one by a lake, a co-ed summer camp where we were completely disconnected from the outside world and knew no one. We all became friends. These were the people I came out to, the ones I whispered my secrets to. I felt like I belonged. For two weeks, at least. In reality, I think I only told them things because I knew I would never see them again. We were from all over the country and the countries that bordered said country and countries that bordered those countries and countries from across that sea. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. I had friends, just not a friend group. I was, and still am, a floater. A bouncer, going from group to group. I think I had convinced that staying too long would cause people to become tired of me.

And then I changed.

I can’t say I know what exactly changed me- to might have been becoming a dad/mom friend to a group of campers. The person that reminded people to leave tips and apologized for our loudness on those rare occasions when we did venture into those small western towns to get food. 

Maybe it was that, maybe it was sitting outside until the moon was on the other side of the sky talking with the others. Maybe it was being helpful. In any case, I knew when I got back home I needed a change.

I started school. It was hard- I was taking hard classes. But I stopped shutting myself away, started forcing myself to talk to people. To laugh and joke and step outside my comfort zone. To hang out with people. I even joined the theatre group at my school- a completely new experience. I found so, so many supportive friends everywhere. Not friends to be supportive of my sexuality (which they are, for the record) but of myself. A group who helped me grow and realize I was a good, likable person. I bought myself a nice wallet. it sounds strange- who would’ve thought buying a wallet could mean such a great deal? But, that wallet was the one thing i had gotten for myself that I really, really wanted. It was cheap for a good wallet, like ten dollars. But, I was treating myself. 

Now, I stay out late. I stay out still two in the morning sometimes, laughing and whispering secrets. I go on spontaneous trips to diners and parks. I grow flowers and vegetable freely. Vines snake all over my room, and I speak with passion when I talk. I watercolor. I write. I tell my friends how lucky I am to have them, and they tell me back. And for once, I believe every word that comes out of their mouths. My grades have fallen as I take on harder classes, but they are my grades. I chose these classes. For me. I feel proud of myself, something I haven’t felt since I was young. I’m in it for myself and everyone else. My needs and wants no longer sit in last place. I sleep better, too. I shower more, watch what I do. I look both ways when crossing the street. I am looking towards the future, not for the first time, but it is the first time it is for me. I have become motivated by something other than fear that I am not good enough. I know I am enough. I am motivated, I think. I am scared to die- not because I fear death itself, but because I am scared of the good things I will leave behind. 

There are some things I am still insecure of and shy away from, don’t get me wrong. Life is not “perfect.” I am self-conscious of my body. But I’ve discovered things- my eyebrows are crooked, but I love them. I love my eyes. I love my hair. Not vainly, but I don’t detest myself when I gaze into mirror much. I don’t always think my friends like me, but those thoughts come less and stay for shorter periods of time. I have not come out to my parents- not because I am ashamed, but just because I don’t want to. I still worry about being an annoyance. I stutter. Sometimes, I have bad days. It happens.

The point of this is to realize that life gets better. It may not right away, but it may. It’s sometimes a tough journey, but sometimes it is not. There is always some reason it is good, even the smallest reason, like how you might enjoy the way the sunlight falls across your door in the morning or in the evening, or how you enjoy the letter “e” in that one font, or how your street doesn’t have a curb- it’s just grass and then BAM, pavement. It’s never too late to change and to find acceptance. Heck, most of the people on this site would be glad to offer it, though looking into a therapist or consular is a good idea. I wish I had- it would have saved me from many sleepless nights, from thoughts wracked with worry. And my life is perfect. It can always get better, but I would be content swimming in these days forever. 

So, good luck to anyone reading this. Have a wonderful life. I’m always here to talk.

-THE FEEL OF PAGES

-Getting a book and examining the cover for like 15 minutes

-Finishing a book and sitting in silence as the warmth that graced your heart as you read leeches out of your body and leaves you an empty husk again

-Seeing other people (especially little kids!) reading books and enjoying them

Feyre: you broke into my home and let me choose between being kidnapped or killed

Feyre: you let me hunt in a forest full of monsters and evil that I could never survive on my own

Feyre: I was in constant danger as a human and neither you or Lucien had any idea of my mortal limitations

Feyre: after you were taken by Amarantha I went after you and you watched as I was tortured

Feyre: I was nearly killed by he middengard wyrm and my wounds got infected and I could've had my arm cut off

Feyre: I had to do chores that were impossible or else be put through more torture

Feyre: you let your enemy take me and paint my body so that only he could touch me and led me into a party full of people who wanted me dead every night

Feyre: you knew I was illiterate and let me go through a trial where I had to read a riddle and answer it or else be splattered by hot spears

Feyre: you let me kill innocent faeries and lose my own innocence so I was broken

Feyre: after I freed you Amarantha tortured and beat me

Tamlin:

Tamlin: but did you die

Feyre: