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I’ve always hated that phrase. Half the time, whenever someone says It’s not personal, it feels like a get-out-of-jail-free card. It’s a way to refuse responsibility for hurting someone.
But despite the suspicions in the back of my mind, I was still too naive to understand that someone saying they’ve changed—so confidently, always so sure—often means that they are certain they can convince you of their growth. And perhaps they can, for a time. But real, meaningful change needs no announcement. Real change speaks for itself.
Perhaps this is why we forgive people who don’t deserve it: nostalgia is a hell of a drug. It blurred all the bad, brightened the scant good, and told you pretty lies.
A man dressed as Darth Vader often rode a flaming bagpipe unicycle near a famous doughnut shop in the city; seeing him felt like a sign of good luck.
I mean, Unipiper and Voodoo Doughnuts are city icons.
You learn things you wished you never did: Dred Scott v. Sandford. The Chinese Exclusion Act. The existence of animal crush videos, resulting in the Animal Crush Video Prohibition Act of 2010.
The first two I'd think would be standard in a US history class in high school, theoretically... also ugh, did not know but not surprised about the third
Drifting with no purpose felt easier: drifting meant no expectation, and thus, no disappointment.
“I love reading military fantasy and gruesome dark Chinese lore—what about you?”
so this is Rebecca Kuang right
an entire trilogy of books and signed with a reputable agent who, in turn, sold the books to a reputable publisher.
this is totally the Poppy War I assume
wanted to encourage her; it was only fair that she change her name if she wanted. Hell, I’d decided to never change my last name if I ever got married. I liked my last name. I liked that it connected me to family, to ancestors I’d never met. I didn’t want to give that up.
same, tbh
“But this is marriage we’re talking about! What happens if you meet someone you actually want to marry? How
are you going to explain this?”
Farah you're so dense; the boy has loved you for yearsssssss
Love—maybe love simply sees you in a room when no one else does. Love was a pat on the head at the end of a hard day, a kind word of acknowledgment in a world so damn hard to live in. Love was refuge. Love was comfort. Love was ease. And, sometimes, that was enough to hold on to.
