#theawrites

this one is a bit shorter! next one will be a Halloween post and will be longer/others posts as well!

August 27, 2025

y/n_l/n

a summer full of wonderful places, joy filled people, soulful music, and a consistently unmade bed

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xochiyilgomez: the sweetest soul

》y/n_l/n: you you you🥹💐

leahjefrees: genuinely in awe about you

》y/n_l/n: please come to(your state)

sadiesink: so much fun with you!!!🐚❤️

》y/n_l/n: soso much!<3

》 user56: I love that you guys hang out omggg!

》user43: best duo!

finnwolfharofficial: raddest gal I know

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》user: they're so cutttee

》stfan011: FINN!!!!!

》user 43: new music when?

》user2: date already pls

》user11: bro all he did was comment on her post calm down

conangrey: pls be my friend

》y/n_l/n: done and done

》user 22: I love this duooo

》user44: YES PLEASE! COLABB WHEN

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epic summer. thank you to all my friends and coworkers

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y/n_l/n: photo creds for first and third📸???

》finnwolfhardofficial: NOW who's begging for the credit🙃

》user12: ahahah

》iluvfinn40: that first pic is SO COOL

》user54:awhhhh taking pics for each other is just so cute idkkk

noahschnapp: we are so cool

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》millebobbybrown: the coolest

user76: Finn and y/n are so cute, like wdym they were tgth enough that she took those pics! so cute!❗️❗️❗️

》user54:they were wit evry1 else too tho

I woke up somewhere between 3am - 4am and this was the first time that I truly felt my emptiness. I often used the phrase “sadness in my bones” because I thought I already knew and felt what it meant but in this instance, that is when I felt like my chest had been ripped open and stripped of everything that was inside. It felt like my mind already knew the heartbreak I was experiencing but my heart and my lungs and my stomach were all just learning the news at the same time. I thought that reaching the ultimate peak of sadness would mean emptying your tear ducts dry but right now, as I write this revelation, I am not crying, but it feels like all my organs are mourning for the sudden loss of my heart, decided that my heart has been missing for far too long, too long that they’d decided it was dead. My insides are attending a funeral for a heart that was never found again but I do not dare tell them that I know where my heart is. You see, the heart has a special talent, it can break itself off, leave pieces of itself in different people and different experiences. And if you want to forget people, forget that you ever gave pieces of yourself to them, then you have to collect the pieces yourself and I do not want to. I do not want to collect back the pieces because in doing so, I must revisit the memories and I cannot take recalling back the memories. I cannot collect the piece of my heart that I left from the first time that we met, from the first time we went out, from the first time we were alone together, from the first time we hugged but that’s not even the worst part because I was foolish enough to leave pieces of me in everything that you do. There are pieces of my heart in every time you smile, in your every laugh, every joke, every time you fix your hair, every time you show your mom you love her, every time you tease me, every time we fight, every time you made me feel beautiful, every time you gave me your time, every time you looked at me, every time you said you loved me. And I’ll admit that I no longer have a heart that I can hold because I have given all the pieces to you. 

Please, please give them back to me. Please collect them and at least put them in a decent bag and give them back to me. Just give them back to me and I’ll stitch them back myself. Because I am going insane not knowing how to silence the cries of my insides from mourning the heart that hasn’t been found and my eyes that beg me to let the cry at any point of the day and my nose who has seemed to memorize his scent, like roses and heartbreak, my tongue that has his name under it, begging to be uttered, to be screamed, to be tangled with the words ‘i love you’ again, my shoulders that beg for his head to lay on it again, my arms that are yearning to wrap around him again, my hands that want to fix his hair or caress his cheek or hold his hand again, my legs that want to stand beside him again, my feet that want to walk with him again, again, again, again. Why can’t we all just control time so if we experience something that breaks us, we can go back and change things. I experienced you, and you broke me, and I want to go back to the time that you told me you loved me and cover my ears or run away so that I will never have to hear it and never hearing it means no longer having a memory of it but I can’t. And now, all I have are memories of you and your smile, your laugh, your jokes, the times you showed your mom you love her, your teasing, our fights, the times you made me feel beautiful, the times when you made an effort, your eyes looking at mine and every time, every fvcking moment that you said you loved me. 

But at least, I have some pieces of you too. 

And even if I want to, 

I cannot give them back.