born in ink, bound in vellum

burnout is loving my job and hating it in equal measure because others would kill to have it yet i can only think about deadlines and the stories that died so i can pay bills

airports are the midpoints between where i was and where i'm going. the difference is i know when i'm leaving, when i'm arriving. in life, there's no departure table. i can't google whether my plans will be delayed or for how long. i just have to sit here, wait, and hope my battery doesn't die before i make it home.

life update.

hi yeah i just want to say i bloody love your writing and everyone of your e/é fics is a masterpiece and thank you for blessing my eyes with them okay thanks bye

I wrote about you 366 days ago. Having reread it, It is undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful things I have ever written. I am categorically angry that those words were spent on you. I’m angrier that she’s crystallized in time. This girl full of longing and confusion, unable to speak for herself and demand truth. I was her, she was me. She is no longer who I am. I am no longer what she was. It is 366 days later, and I have answers to all the questions she asked the universe. Time revealed them to me, though not until I paid with my tears and heartache. Yes, I fell in love but not with you, old friend. He reminds me of you a bit, except he is brave where you were—and perhaps are still—scared. He looks me in the eye, even if he doesn’t want to, and tells me the truth. I left my job for a better one, and in so doing, have discovered people will actually read the things I have to say. I am happy, old friend. Even if I know it will not last forever. He holds me at night, his hands slipping between my breasts and settling over my heart. When the alarms ring, he groans and holds me closer. But when it’s time to leave, he doesn’t linger. Sometimes I wonder if he’ll come back if I let him go. And I realize that’s a fear I learned from you. It is 366 days later and I know if he leaves me, I will survive. Not unscathed, but unbroken. I know this because I survived you. Your memory no longer causes me pain. Old friend—you are finally just that. But me? I have become so much more.

If I knew, would I have said yes? Would I have taken that leap of faith with you? I’d like to think yes. But my honest answer is I don’t know. That’s the thing about love. They don’t tell you that every person who holds your heart, will either keep it forever or crush it between their fingers. So knowing that you’re the same, or that perhaps I will do this to you, if I’d known, would I have said yes?