I know I don’t deserve any more chances. I know that the last time you saw me, I wasn’t a good person. I know that you were a better friend to me than I was to you, or anyone. I hurt people. I betrayed people who trusted me. I was a scared, insecure, selfish person. Maybe I still am sometimes. Anyone who bothered to stay around me at all during that time in my life should be proclaimed a saint for their patience.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting. It’s asinine for me to think there would be any use of my presence in your life. It must look so pointless, right? Futile? I’m embarrassed for even asking. But I was going through the old photos last night. You’re in almost all of them. We’re smiling and look like family. I’ve never been able to fill that hole I gouged out when I lost you; not with anger or jealousy or acceptance or time. I don’t want to be the friend who asks you to lie or leaves you alone in a bed while I pack up my life and never come back. I want to be the one who calls you sister again.
There are no obligations. No matter what happens, I am so happy for you and so very proud of you. You shine so bright, and will only get brighter. I cherish the time we had together.
Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)
Dir. Quentin Tarantino
Zuko and his scar. Acrylic on 14x18 canvas
Yesterday Panda turned 8 and Eli (on the left) turned 7. Gabe (in the middle) is 11 and one of the nicest kids I know.
Summer is sweet.
Too bad they’re zombies.
Summer needs to end. Too anxious.
feel so moon
"I don’t love him but he’s here and you aren’t"
don’t try and contain it