+..｡*ﾟ+

in certified copy when juliette binoche pleads, & persists, in her “remember?” to shemill, like when june gehringer wrote, “the worst part of love is that i remember it” it’s like, the aloneness of grieving something that is not dead and dying still. it’s like john murillo’s “maybe memory is all the home you get”

remembering someone’s name after a single mention, listening without interrupting, being funny without being mean, being unafraid to chase your passions, holding yourself accountable, being kind without being a doormat, compassion, being open to learning even if you already know so much, taking risks & making mistakes

a bruise and arousal are the same btw. blood rushing to a part of the body thats desperate for attention