So I saw a status on Facebook recently that went a little something like, “Stop mistaking love for lust,” etc. etc. Which is a statement I would’ve agreed with a few years ago. But after a little growing up and a little thinking and a little hurting, I’ve come to realize…
That, you know. Love knows no bounds. And that’s as truest bluest as it can get.
Love can’t be defined. It isn’t the same for one person to another. And I used to patronize grade school kids for “thinking” they were in love when really they didn’t know what love is.
But really? That’s love in it’s rawest form. It’s the uncontrollable, uncensored, unexplored version of love that’s liable to explode at any moment and fizzle out in the next.
And I’m glad I can see it like that. And not patronize “love” the way I used to. Because I have no right. No one has any right to.
I may not be ready for marriage. I may not be ready to commit my life to someone else, something else, from here on out. But I can look at Kristopher and not expect anything in return. And I can look at him and think that I want to give him what makes him happy. And I can look at him and want to sex him up all day and all night. I can look at him and feel selfless, kind, compassionate, and comfortable. And that’s why I love him.
Love comes. Love goes. But when it’s there, don’t doubt it. And when it’s there, don’t question it. Just go with it, and always learn to keep loving.
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
First-year students will require:
1.Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2.One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3.One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4.One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
I’M SO EXCITED.
I’m gonna name my owl Minzy and make hairpieces out of his feathers when he molts.
I just experienced the weirdest sick week I’ve had in the longest time.
In addition to the ovarian cyst that exploded on me last Friday, I somehow miraculously came down with a case of swollen tonsils and feverish sweats. I went into work on Wednesday hoping I could make up for all the shifts I lost and possibly keep calm and carry on with my life. I was sorely disappointed when halfway through my shift, I started feeling feverish and lightheaded. And sore throaty.
I proceeded to prentend that everything was ok by going to the mall with my friends the next day. I bought this fantastic shade of ballerina tutu pink nail polish and the bottle of Chloe perfume that I’ve been wanting for sooooo long. It was rather satisfying.
Slept over at the boyfriend’s afterwards and had a grand time. He did, however, remark that girls can’t play video games and that both discouraged me and upset me. I proceeded to play Call of Duty with him and pretend that I knew nothing about the game because I was both angry with his sexist remark that he solely believed was fact and slightly embarrassed because he was probably playing with me in a condescending way. What a sexist misogynistic pig.
He made up for it though, afterwards, by being really nice about me dying on him a lot and made me chicken and rice for dinner. :) Still. How condescending of him. Hmph! >:(
Slept soundly enough, until I woke up with a ridiculous sore throat and a killer headache. I had to call out of work again. I hate calling out. It makes things complicated because I don’t like dealing with conflict and I sometimes pretend that I can hear annoyance in people’s voices when really I’m just imagining things. Paranoia.
Anyway, I just inhaled half a gallon of orange juice in the hopes that I can absorb as much Vitamin C as possible and get better. Miraculously, it’s working. I feel like a champ right now.
Time to paint my toenails a ballerina shade of pink, continually sip orange juice from my giant cup of champions that shaped like a reindeer, and fantasize about the tattoo that I’ll be getting soon, depending upon how lame my next paycheck is going to be.
I agree. I'll talk to Ashuhlee and text you. I'm sorry it's getting so difficult. You're just so brilliant. And you understand it's permanent, so we want it to be beautiful. So sorry we keep modifying it. But you're amazing. Nuff said.
Lol! Not difficult at all. I understand how perfect tattoos are. They have to be certain. Not something you can just do on impulse. I want to make it as perfect for you guys as possible.
So I spent my Thursday evening at Kris’s house after watching the Pirates of the Caribbean premiere with Jina, Tylynn, and Parker. Generally, the movie itself was alright, but really, all I wanted to watch were beautifully vicious mermaids all night.
I slept over at Kris’s house. Quite frankly, it was amazing. The next morning, was amazing. It was just a sleepover in the most innocent of the term, being that the most we did was cuddle and shit all night. (I LUVZ 2 CUDDLE HEE HEE)
Wanna know a good way to ruin an otherwise ethereal evening? Wake up the next morning to excruciating pain and dizziness. I spent my whole Friday in a trance-like state, cradling my poor, aching gut and wishing that whatever it was that was hurting me would be ripped out of my body right now, thanks.
So the pain got SO bad, I had to miss Kapolei’s graduation (SADFACEEE) and go to the hospital. Wow. That was a long, long night in the E.R.
Turns out I had an ovarian cyst that burst and caused my insides to bleed. Imagine a tiny little blood filled sac suddenly rupturing, thus causing a stream of blood to pour incessantly throughout your abdomen, causing excruciating pain and horrible discomfort. Yeah. I was more fascinated than disgusted, but I can’t say the same for everyone else.
Also got assaulted by needles in abundance. Dislike.
Either way, I had to spend the night at the E.R and most of my beautiful Saturday in the actual hospital. On the bright side, I received many texts of good wishes and concern which raised my spirits considerably.
On an even brighter side, Kristopher himself juuust came by with a steak plate just for me before going to work. He figured my loss of blood would need help restoring itself and he knew just the thing. I adore that man.
The night air was cold, but your jacket was warm, bundled up around my quaking limbs as you held me balanced upon your lap.
The couch we perched upon was the same one I curled up on when he wouldn’t call me and when he didn’t care. But that was a long time ago. Now, you are “him.” You’re the one that makes me come undone without even trying. And you take care of the pieces that fall apart.
Your TV blared white noise. You traced your fingers along the length of my spine. My arm. Chest. Neck. I whispered softly, in good faith, things I wouldn’t dare tell others. I cringed beneath your touch.
You whispered back, “I would never want to hurt you. Especially you. You don’t deserve that.”
And never before have I felt words crush my soul, reawaken my senses, clear away the fog so strongly before. It was as if everything that held me back, that broke my heart, that clawed so persistently at my self-worth disappeared. And you told me, I didn’t deserve it. I didn’t deserve any of that.
This whole, entire time, from then to now, from way back when, to this very moment, I honestly thought I deserved it. And all it took was someone to honestly tell me that it isn’t my fault.
This whole time, I blamed myself. And wide-eyed and warm, you took me in and honestly told me to stop hurting myself.