It's a nice day.

If you’re reading this, if there’s air in your lungs on this November day, then there is still hope for you. Your story is still going. And maybe some things are true for all of us. Perhaps we all relate to pain. Perhaps we all relate to fear and loss and questions. And perhaps we all deserve to be honest, all deserve whatever help we need. Our stories are all so many things: Heavy and light. Beautiful and difficult. Hopeful and uncertain. But our stories aren’t finished yet. There is still time, for things to heal and change and grow. There is still time to be surprised. We are still going, you and I. We are stories still going.

We live in an age where we feel guilt whenever we have to cut someone off but the reality is that some relationships do need to die, some people do need to be unfollowed and defriended. We aren’t meant to be this tethered to the people in our past. The Internet mandates that we don’t burn bridges and keep everyone around like relics but those expectations are unrealistic and unhealthy. Simply put, we don’t need to know what everyone else is up to. We’re allowed to be choosy about who we surround ourselves with online and in real life, even if it might hurt people’s feelings.

Sometimes you end up never speaking to someone who meant the world to you again. And that’s okay. You cope and you survive. Don’t let your losses keep you back from new gains.

Tired, mostly, but I’ll live.

We could take a nap if you would like.

[ Grins! ]

[He’s sticky and sweaty and his hair’s sticking to the back of his neck, his hands slightly unpleasant feeling from something drying on them. Ignoring it, he pulls her close, kissing her lips gently, over and over again.]

[ Laughs softly, content, happy with things, kissing him back and feeling his warmth. It's good, it's all so, so good. ]

Let me just make one god damn thing clear and that is that you do not get to shatter me and complain about the mess at your feet.