This is Me.

I cannot express what an insane recipe that is. No one else could grasp it either

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

File this under “save your best for the finale”… I think my favorite moments from the tour were the acoustic surprises. So I went back into the studio with Max and Shellback to record acoustic/unplugged versions of a few of the Showgirl songs with brand new vocals and production! Cannot WAIT for you to hear:

❤️‍🔥 Life Is A Song Acoustic Version with “Opalite (Life Is A Song Acoustic Version)” and “Ruin the Friendship (My Advice Version)” ❤️‍🔥 Dressing Room Rehearsal Version with “Wi$h Li$t (Settled Down Acoustic Version)” and “The Life of a Showgirl (Dressing Room Rehearsal Acoustic Version)” ❤️‍🔥 Alone In My Tower Acoustic Version with “The Fate of Ophelia (Alone In My Tower Acoustic Version)” and “Eldest Daughter (Now You’re Home Acoustic Version)” ❤️‍🔥 So Glamorous Cabaret Version with “Elizabeth Taylor (So Glamorous Cabaret Version)” and Elizabeth Taylor (Original Songwriting Voice Memo)

Four limited CD releases each including two acoustic bonus tracks on my site now for 24 hours while supplies last.

store.taylorswift.com

can a black hole destroy the earth?

no, you idiot.

black holes aren’t planet gluttons, you bitch.

and the earth isn’t some weak-ass planet that would just fall in to a black hole like a sucker.

and that dumbass sun that we’ve got isn’t big enough to make a black hole like other stars.

1. 'It's fiction, it doesn't need to make sense!'

He’s done it plenty of times, pitched a fit and tried to abandon his family, but always inevitably came crawling back- the man can’t actually take care of himself. Sure, he’s got a good job as a mechanic, but as a violently racist alcoholic he tended to get kicked out of places before he even had the chance to spiral too far out of control.

But… Not anymore. Maybe it’s because he found Jesus or something, that’s what Grandma says happened, but she wasn’t there and neither was anyone else. He was found near his truck in a cornfield where he’d apparently been driving around in circles, leaving big ol’ patterns there for God knows why. He passed a Breathalyzer for once in his life so the cops just told him to get along home, and he did.

His wife and kids were both happy and apprehensive to see him like always, hoping he was in a good mood. And to everyone’s suprise, he was. In fact, he has been ever since. It gave me the heebie-jeebies when I had to go over there to borrow something from my cousin, Mike was at the kitchen table smiling and I swear to God the man’s eyes were just a little too reflective. He asked me how my day was. He offered to drive me home. When I politely declined, he didn’t get upset. He asked me to help him with a crossword puzzle and then thanked me for explaining a couple of the hints. The whole interaction reminded me of that time when I was eight or nine and he’d just had a major surgery, and was high off his ass on painkillers and asked me to help him clean his wound, and I was so shaking scared of how he’d react if I did something wrong while he just smiled and chatted as if I wasn’t wiping dried black blood off from under the most grisly would I’d ever seen in my short life up until then.

Uncle Mike’s been nicer to pretty much everyone though, apparently. Got his wife a puppy and didn’t scream at her when it peed on the floor. Let his kids friends come over- even the coloured ones, which he’d pitched such a fit about in the past that I was surprised to hear my cousins still even asked. His co-workers mentioned he’s been downright pleasant to them even when they screw up.

The other day, says Mike Jr, the old man was locked up in his room making some weird noises. When he knocked on the door, the noises stopped for a second before the door opened and there he was, all smiles and ‘hey sport’ and Jr says Mike’s never called him that once in his whole life and he’s also pretty sure his dad’s shoulder scar is gone.

It was one of my youngest cousins, Ash, who pulled all us 'kids’ (ignoring that Jr and I are adults now) into her bedroom and presented us with her evidence. She had clearly worked really hard on it, pin-board style like a true conspiracy theorist, all good and clear proof of her point: that wasn’t her dad. The crop circles, the eyes, the change in behavior, the fact that he only pretended to drink now (she’d found his full beer cans in the trash) and that he didn’t bleed (I hadn’t noticed this one myself but it was a good catch). And all of us, Mike Jr and me and Lizzie and Ethan and James, we all agreed with her without muh fight. I mean, just because it sounded crazy didn’t mean it wasn’t obvious. But what were we gonna do about it? And when we asked Ash, she didn’t know either, so we just got on with our lives.

Lizzie told me about a week later that she’d broken a plate in the kitchen and braced herself to be screamed at, but when she looked at whoever has replaced her dad, he just looked guilty. Offered to help her clean it up, said accidents happen.

The puppy chewed up one of his shoes a little later on and he did get angry about that, but he didn’t raise a hand to the dog and when he confronted his wife about it, ready as she was to get talked down to and yelled at and insulted… What she told my mom is he looked her in the eyes and she saw him back down, saw something come up in his eyes but it wasn’t guilt, she said it was pity. And he didn’t hurt her that day in any way except for how she hated that look on him.

Whoever it is that replaced Uncle Mike must not have really met him- or maybe they did and just thought he was a real piece of work. Hell, maybe they even did this on purpose to make his family not have to suffer so much anymore. Either way, he’s a terrible copy in nearly every way. But what are we gonna do about it? Ask for that asshole we all know and loathe to come back so his family can live in terror and threaten to divorce him every other month again? Everything that’s changed has been for the better and so what if he asks weird questions sometimes, he just wants to learn about us.

For the first time in years we had a family Christmas together this past year, because nobody’s scared to be around him anymore. His youngest son, Ethan, made him a card that said thank you and welcome to the family. New Mike teared right up and gave him a big hug. So if you ask me, everything’s going good with that. New Mike knows we know it isn’t really him, but that we don’t care- in fact, we like him a little better even. So well, that’s that.

We try not to think of the real Mike Sr out there in that cornfield or wherever he is. Not that most of us would care if he was dead in a ditch somewhere. Jr’s said before he’s just waiting on that life insurance when the old man drinks himself to death, but this is better- New Mike’s still just as good at his job, still supports his family, supports them all much more now even.

Was the first thing you thought of when you noticed your father was strangely more pleasant. His skin sagged around his neck, and his hands looked like gloves that were too big to fit. His eyes were a magenta hue, warm and full of life.

You knew right then that this wasn’t him. Your father never smiled with such innocence and genuine happiness. At least your rides home from work became more comforting. You had yet to get your license, but this thing, instead of lecturing you on how you needed to get it, reassured you that you would eventually.

Instead of blaming you for 'pulling the family apart’, this thing wearing your father’s skin talked about how lucky it was to have such a wonderful family, how you were the pride and joy and it couldn’t be more proud that it got to be your father.

When you called in from work, it didn’t berate you. It didn’t hiss about how you were going to 'lose your job he worked so hard to force you to get.’ It was understanding. You didn’t have to hide away.

“It’s okay, I know how it must feel to try and force yourself to tough out the pain. What can I do to help you feel better?”

For once, you weren’t scared of your father.

And this thing was actually trying to be a father.

It was odd. Every time you and your Mother had time off, this thing would insist on going out as a family.

“I’ve recently seen an internet video about this little bakery a few towns from here! Let’s make a day of it, my treat!”

You couldn’t help but get attached.

“A Father is supposed to love their spawn unconditionally!” And unconditionally, you were loved.

“I have acquired meat product for my family! How about I bust out that old grill and whip us up a mean Barbie-Queue?”

You ignored the strange green ooze in the veins of the meat, it was tasty despite that, and it didn’t make you sick, so…

You’ve never seen your Mother so in love before. This thing was far more romantic than your father before, picking up your Mother and spinning her with incredible strength, giggling between kisses…it even covered her sleeping form on the couch with blankets.

Sometimes, it would stand over her, watching with those sparkling magenta eyes, visible steam rising from the eyeholes with a hand covering its mouth.

Like she was the most beautiful thing in existence.

It would mutter and sigh in a strange tongue, each syllable dripping with a candy-coated sweetness.

And you.

When it looked at you, its eyes were filled with love. It was proud of you. It loved you. It loved this family.

I like Not Mommy, she’s so much nicer. Doesn’t drink or smoke and says nice things to me.

I waited for Mommy to fetch me. I drank water from the water fountains and eat other peoples leftovers. It was getting colder, and I was still waiting for Mommy.

Then one day, I saw her. I already knew she was different. Mommy doesn’t have anyone beside her today. It was so weird because Mommy ALWAYS has someone beside her. I walked toward her, and then she did something unusual. She opened up her arms.

'Is she going to hurt me?’

I don’t know. But I can’t make Mommy angrier at me. I hate it whenever I make Mommy angry. I already ruined everything for her, so I really can’t make any more mistakes. But shockingly, she scooped me up like I was freshly washed clothes. And that’s another thing, Mommy doesn’t smell funny; she actually smells like laundry soap.

I was shocked. Mommy has never done this before.

Then weeks come by and I just notice a lot more differences. Mommy doesn’t yell at me anymore.

When I got home from school and then open the door a bit too loudly, Mommy would greet me hello and not blame me for dawdling my life away.

When I soiled my bed, Mommy doesn’t hold my head on my wet sheet anymore, she would just remind me to stop drinking too much before bedtime and pee before sleeping.

When I use the bathroom, I can take my time, and Mommy won’t even knock the door so heavily, and she won’t even slap me for wasting water!!!!!!!!

Mommy also does most of my chores now, too!!! She now does the dishes, the laundry, the cooking, the ironing, the shopping, the cleaning, the working, and all the stuff that Mommy makes me do.

She even speaks with my babysitter. The one that would pay Mommy just to take care of me. She doesn’t allow me to meet him anymore. The neighbor even said that he had been attacked by a wild animal. I was glad, I never actually liked him. He makes me feel bad funny.

I was happy with this Mommy, cause with her, I always have food even if I just go to school and don’t help with chores.

Though it makes me feel guilty, I realized that I like my new Mommy. I know that I should still miss my Mommy, and I do. I often search for the smell of smoke and that weird smell, thinking that maybe it’s Mommy. Sometimes I still hide in my closet because Mommy doesn’t like seeing me. Sometimes I miss my Mommy, so I often go to the bar to wait for her. I miss her because even if other people tell me she’s a bad Mom, for me, she’s still great. She’s all I have. I love her.

Also, there were times when this Mommy scares me and makes me miss my Mommy. It was when I realized that Mommy doesn’t sleep. She always went out when I was asleep, and then suddenly, there was news about the wild animal attacks in come morning. It scares me, thinking that this Mommy would hurt me.

But then, she would cook for me and then warn me to not listen to gossip, kiss my forehead as she bid me goodbye. I would find a paper bag with food on my bag with notes that have stars and hearts on them. She would give me new clothes and dresses that were too expensive to be spent on something like me. She would gift me new things that only the privileged can have, like fitting, new shoes, and soaps and shampoos that smell like flowers. She would read me stories at night, and now, I can ask her about stuff that I should know, like the spelling of my name and my actual, real birthday

Years have passed now, and I found out the truth. My Mommy wasn’t like the other Mommies…

But the others don’t need to know. Not even the stalkers that ask questions such as, if I am in danger and whatever.

I get married in 10 days. I thought the urge would be gone. It's been almost 5 years since I relapsed and sliced my wrists and thighs open. He threw away my blades. He took back ownership of the term "slut", he calls me it lovingly when he talks dirty to me. I have a service dog who won't let me lock myself in a bathroom alone lest I cave to temptation. He's nine and is training a little puppy to do what he does so that he can retire. I am surrounded by the same love I've always had around me and haven't felt since high school. I secretly berate myself for not ever loving again the way I did then. Am I capable of loving as freely as then? Is the scarring from @tassodar that permanent? My fiancé is my jasper stone, grounding and constant. He caresses my hair til I fall asleep and whispers the sweetest most heartfelt things I've ever heard. I'm thirty now. I'm a grown adult. I get married in 10 days and yet on quiet nights when the overthinking hits, I still want to hold my blades and try to escape my flesh.