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How often have you sailed in my dreams. And now you come in my awakening, which is my deeper dream. Kahlil Gibran
“Even when you’re sinking through life’s muck, you reach out for help and keep going.”
They mattered. Their sacrifices mattered. Their hopes and dreams for me mattered.
I’ve learned that grieving isn’t a linear process, and time has fuck all to do with healing wounds.
“I have a response, but it’s more advice. Yo, Ty, if you’re out there watching, drown out the noise, man, and go hard in the paint this year. I remember the pressure of rookie year, having also been the first pick in the draft. You feel you have to elevate the team by yourself. Stay locked in, and stick to the basics of doing what you love. You’ve already come so far after facing a terrible loss. There are bright times ahead.”
“You know, most college nicknames are ridiculous, but yours tracks,” he says. The brimming, resonant tone of his voice passes through me like a gentle charge. I take a steadying breath. “Is that right?” Wait, did he just say that I’m pretty? I accept the compliment instead of clarifying the true meaning of my moniker.
“I love books that capture the resilience of a person. It can reach superhuman proportions.
“I remember thinking the key to happiness isn’t getting what you desire necessarily, but when your desires align with what will bring you peace,”
Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next…You must look into that storm and shout, ‘Do your worst, for I will do mine!’ Then the fates will know you as we know you.”
“Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero,”
“Pluck the day, trusting as little as possible in the next one.”
“Memento mori,” I read aloud. “Remember death or remember that you will die,” he translates. “I wanted to burn into my consciousness that I only exist at this moment. Tomorrow is an illusion.”
“There’s freedom in accepting the ephemeral nature of life. We spend so much time fearing the end. I choose to appreciate the current moment for what it is.”
When it comes to opening up, I’m that night-blooming flower that unfurls once a year on a full moon.
We’re all haunted in some way—whether by the secrets we protect, the truths we deny, or the inexplicable ugliness life throws our way.”
“There are those who have knowledge and those who have understanding.”
it takes time for us to make sense of the big things that happen to us sometimes.
You can’t let fame or flattery validate you or feed your self-esteem.
“I can’t muster the strength to give a shit about anything or anyone. Something as simple as brushing my teeth feels insurmountable. It’s like I’m stuck in a daze with a single thought. And it’s not that I’m necessarily sad. It’s just that everything seems hollow. Like everyone is playing a game that I have no interest in participating in. It’s all numbing, except it isn’t, I guess. I mean, it’s more that I’m numb. It takes over—”
He possesses a nourishing warmth that seeps into my bones and reminds me of what it’s like to be untethered from grief.
If midnight had a voice, it would sound like his. Husky, dark, mysterious.
“Come here,” Sid’s gravelly voice commands.
“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Washington, I pray for your souls to rest in eternal peace. Those who are loved live on in the hearts of those who hold them dear. Though it feels like I’ve known him for a lifetime, I’ve only known your son for a short while, but it’s clear he loves you deeply. It’s said that true friendship is rare. Then, I shall count my blessings daily and cherish the friendship that I have with your son, who I imagine is a reflection of all of your light and love. May peace be upon you. A friend of your son, Sidney King.”
The sweetest and most thoughtful man!! Sidneyyyy😭❤️
God, if there was ever a time when someone could point to a moment and say “And that’s when I knew for sure that I was falling for him,” this moment would take the cake.
Me toooo
“Oh,” I say, turning back to the graves, “I’m most likely gay, and I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with Sid.”
I won’t be alone because I won’t stay. I made a promise ages ago. Fire takes him, water takes me. God knows. It’ll be easy. The beach near my house is always empty before sunrise. I mean it. There’d be nothing left for me here.
Omggggggg
Love doesn’t give two shits about your plans.
I hate crying in front of other people,
Painful memories come with heavy emotions. Meditation is a way to clear them out. Can I guide us through a quick meditation?”
Now Sid i love you
Thinking about the future causes anxiety. Thinking about the past binds us to old memories and feelings. Our power is in the present.”
“You didn’t hang up,” I say, my voice raspy as I wipe the sleep from my eyes and mouth.
“Why would I?” he replies. The smoky timbre of his morning voice washes over me. It’s like pure sex.
I lean in. “I was staying at my friend’s house for Christmas, and I fell asleep in his home cinema. As I was heading to my bedroom in the middle of the night, I saw him getting head from his fr—casual lover and it hit me—I wanted to be the one fucking him.”
Ok Ty Ty let him know
“Cock-blocker?” he repeats, eyebrows creased, spelling confusion. He steps forward, dipping his face so close that heat races across my cheeks. His lips brush against my ear. “Who said that standing here with me means you won’t get fucked tonight?”
Whewwwwwww
He turns to face me and throws an arm over my stomach. I’m nodding off when he whispers, “Baby, wake up. We should clean up.”
“Do you feel sore?” he asks. I feel like I’ve been fucked, and I love it. I’m not sure if sore is the right word.
The residual, emotional pain from recounting a tragedy can linger for minutes, hours, or days.
“Me aside, I know you’re like the best balla on the planet, but living inside of me might be your true calling.”
Pits, nipples, wrists, bottoming…fuck. Who am I?
“Fine. I guess I’ll go be great,” he whines. “Oh. Before you agree to the Nike deal, hit me up with the details. Happy to weigh in.”
“Don’t let the big dick and killer looks fool you. I’m a good guy,” he quips, winking.
When I reached my seat, Idris, Malik, and Harry grilled me about the hickey on my neck. I shrugged and said real men don’t fuck and tell. My dad taught me that.
“I want to see all of you, remember?”
“Okay, as in we’re doing this? You’re mine?” he asks, a shy grin peeking through. I grin. “I’m yours.”
“Word? Seeing it on you at the game did it for me. I’ve officially devolved into a caveman.”
“Hey.” He stares into my eyes. “When that actor calls, tell him to fuck off. Better yet, pass me the phone, and I’ll tell him.”
They are too cute!
“I have a secret,” I whisper into his ear. “When I woke up hard yesterday, I was dreaming about you. I fucked myself with a dildo, wishing you were inside of me. When I’m alone in my hotel room on the road, I imagine myself down on my knees, taking you down my throat. And when I stroke myself—” His eyes darken as he squeezes my ass, grinding me against him. “I imagine my dick sinking into you. When I come all over my chest, it’s your name that I gasp into the pillow.”
Hotttt
“We’re meditating before bed by the way,” he says.
Life makes no sense. It brings people in need together while taking those we need from us.
“The world is a joyless, purposeless, and dark place when you’re depressed. You couldn’t have saved him.”
