It’s weird to grow up in a family where you know you’re loved but you don’t feel loved. And then later in adulthood you understand how almost impossible it seems to cross that distance and let yourself experience closeness, how otherworldly love feels now and how love feels unbearable at times. You flinch when someone tries to wholeheartedly love you. And over and over you see so clearly how you cannot be loved unless it’s from afar and love is mixed with that familiar sensation of distance and coldness.
when Florence Welsh said “What a thing to admit that when someone looks at me with real love I don’t like it very much / Kinda makes me feel like I’m being crushed”
Not every day has to count. Some days are for repairing, resting, mourning. You don’t have to perform every day. Some days are for doing nothing. For sleeping all day or being on your phone. Relaxing is ok, allowed and encouraged. Do what you need to do.
okay reblogging this again just to say that i love love love reading these,, like it’s so incredible how we’re all doing such vastly different things at the same time…ik it’s an obvious thing but it’s also insane to think about.
