My stunning boy 🧡
One week without you and it feels like an eternity
I miss you so much, I wish you were here so I could take care of you and love you
I'm sad you didn't make it to see how much we had planned for you
I love you so so much 🧡
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@meliora777
My stunning boy 🧡
One week without you and it feels like an eternity
I miss you so much, I wish you were here so I could take care of you and love you
I'm sad you didn't make it to see how much we had planned for you
I love you so so much 🧡

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Paintings of men that I’ve fallen in love with:
Portrait of a Young Man, Sandro Boticelli, c. 1483
Portrait of a Young Man, Andrea del Sarto, c. 1517-1518
The Tailor, Giovanni Battista Moroni, c. 1540-1545
Charles William Bell, Thomas Lawrence, c. 1798
Portrait of George Catlin, John Eagle, 1825
Étude pour “Garde du Harem”, Frank Duveneck, 1879
Portrait of Albert Belleroche, John Singer Sargent, 1882
Inok, Konstantin Savitsky, 1897
It hits me in waves.
I was lucky to know the last time of something before it came,
and still I let it slip.
Too busy counting days,
too worn down by the cracks in the life I had then.
I knew the last time I’d have my family in one place,
the last time I could drop in anywhere,
my last shift at my dream job with my dream coworker friends.
The last time my mom waited for me after work, being on edge trying to close the till faster,
She'd take me to the store and buy the shampoo I wanted,
the hair mask I couldn’t afford, she couldn't either
Keeping that treat hidden from my father
I knew it all, and still I took it for granted.
I thought I was appreciating it,
but I was only watching the clock.
Shaking inside from the move,
I never let it sink in that a door was closing for good.
The life I imagined as a little girl will never exist.
No weekends split between my side and his,
not being there for every birthday, every sorrow.
No dad on call when I need him,
Even when he’d lose his phone.
I regret not holding on longer.
Weekends with my brother,
the long anime he loved
gone, and never coming back.
I love what I’ve built here.
My love was strong enough to make me leave.
It still is.
But it hurts, and always will.
I ache for what I had,
and the worst part is being unseen in it.
Sometimes I try to speak it
but the words get caught before they could form,
A lump forming in my throat, and I fight my eyes that have already formed tears
My struggle isn't seen, and I'm hurried jokingly,
and in that moment,
what I couldn’t say turned into a laugh that wasn’t mine, and despite it not being the intention, I crumble inside.
Why can't you let me get to it? Why can't you be more gentle?
Some days grief floods me.
No one to hold me the way I need.
Missing my thoughts being read instantly with those who truly knew me
I’ll always have them,
but never the same.
I just want this pain to be understood
for someone to see how deep it runs,
even if they’ve never lived it.
I want you to know the sacrifice I make. I want you to understand my pain. I want you to imagine you in my position, and have more compassion. Understand how hard it is all for me. Even a simple vacation decision tears me apart, is a vacation more important than my own flesh and blood?
I just want to go back, for one day. Take it all in. The shouting matches, the drawn out days, the crazy dogs, the heatwave, the broken ac in the store, the shared desperation in it to finally go home, the nosey customers I've grown fond of, my grandma randomly asking to meet her in McDonald's, my brother agreeing to go to the big city for one day just bc I wanted one comic book desperately, being with my mom in her bed at night and talking until my mouth runs dry, then going back to the living room and do the same with my dad, then finally resting in my room.
Sometimes I just desperately long for what used to be mine.
Sometimes I just miss my home, my messy, dysfunctional, joyful home.

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Sometimes I catch myself missing the chaos of home,
The shouts and loud noise I no longer roam.
I miss having someone to tease and annoy,
My little angry, dysfunctional joy.
Emotions run wild, on high alert,
It wasn't always gentle, it wasn't always sweet,
But somehow, that mess still felt complete.
there's not a single nonchalant bone in my body. i care so much i could literally vomit
Kurt Cobain

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Sinéad O'Connor, from her book titled "Rememberings," originally published in June 2021
May Sarton, from her book titled "May Sarton: A Self-Portrait," originally published in 1978

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Would you carve my name into your flesh or are you not into true worship