New Pearl. No Plan.

it was at summer camp, where this happened, and it's funny reflecting on the ways summer camp has interacted with the concept of love in my life. when i was a kid at camp, I was taught by this boy and his friends that i was unlovable. i had my first kiss at that camp with someone else: totally closed-lipped, and when I kissed him, I don't know if I felt anything, or if i did it because I liked the person I was kissing or because I was trying to prove something to myself.

years later, in college, I worked at a different summer camp. I met someone there who would become one of my dearest friends. 8 years later (3 years ago,) I asked them out. 8 months ago, they asked me to marry them. i love them with my whole being, and they make me feel so loved too.

they run a different summer camp now, and I'm here at their camp spending the summer with them. one of their co-workers is a boy i had a crush on in middle school (who I have always liked but haven't liked since I was like 14)--the first person I ever asked out, and who very kindly turned me down--who I hadn't thought about in years.

the camp had a bonfire, and the kids were singing the song "Take Me Home, Country Roads" by John Denver, a song that they sang at the summer camp where I was bullied as a child. For so long, I had such sad memories tied up in that song, so much of the feeling of feeling unlovable tied up there.

but I had a moment tonight of hearing that song with my fiancé next to me holding my hand, feeling totally loved. I almost felt like I was reaching back through time to my ten-year-old self, like I was holding her hand, kissing her forehead, telling her it gets so much better for her, even if she can't see it or believe it, cliche though it sounds

Rest in peace to the incredible Anthony Stewart Head (20th February 1954 - 1st June 2026)

1) reading a longfic chapter by chapter, leaving an increasingly emotional comment on every chapter, descends into keysmashes near the end: outstanding

2) read one fic by accident, clicked the author name, now working steadily through the backlog and commenting on everything, I wake up to an AO3 inbox full of enthusiasm: precious beyond words

My thoughts don’t make me a bad person

My feelings don’t make me a bad person

My thoughts, feelings, and impulses only exist inside my head, and none of it matters unless I act on it

Nobody can see my thoughts or emotions

The only things anyone can see and judge me on are my actions

There’s no such thing as a thought crime

If your first instinct is to recoil at the fact that the synagogue's name contains the word "Israel", fuck you.

If your first instinct is to say "we should stop funding israel", fuck you.

If your first instinct is to say "but Gaza is worse", fuck you.

Highlights (for various reasons):

that elderly man going to the ER because samira is a friend to him. the obese man who lives alone tearing up at genuine human kindness and acceptance. digby being someone who can mourn louie when he seemed so alone. the hospice patient being able to relax once her parents show up. the college student’s parents being able to accept help from someone that looks like them who’s gone through the same thing.

they keep reiterating how you can’t get through things alone. the jewish community needs muslims, the doctors need pharmacists, dana needs robby. there’s all these macro and micro interactions that enforce this thesis. there are cultural, structural, professional, communal, and interpersonal vectors of support that are so necessary.

that elderly man going to the ER because samira is a friend to him. the obese man who lives alone tearing up at genuine human kindness and acceptance. digby being someone who can mourn louie when he seemed so alone. the hospice patient being able to relax once her parents show up. the college student’s parents being able to accept help from someone that looks like them who’s gone through the same thing.

they keep reiterating how you can’t get through things alone. the jewish community needs muslims, the doctors need pharmacists, dana needs robby. there’s all these macro and micro interactions that enforce this thesis. there are cultural, structural, professional, communal, and interpersonal vectors of support that are so necessary.