emails to my mother (re: as far as i’m concerned i no longer have a daughter).



we went through this entire charade years ago and i have no interest in repeating this pattern of behaviour with you. it wasn’t healthy for either of us then, and it’s not now. i really thought that we were past this, and it has really disappointed me to be in this situation again, after so many years of working on our relationship.

i don’t wish to fight with you, then be ignored by you, then receive a list of demands from you, have you feign a familial relationship with me for a short time until your demands are met, have you sabotage any attempts i make to control my own life, then rinse and repeat the process. that isn’t a healthy relationship, and although you may achieve a sense of gratification from it due to the control that it gives you, i do not.

one of your favourite phrases is that you “only want me to be happy” but the actual definition of this seems to be that you only want me to be happy doing the things that you feel are correct and appropriate. when i do something outside of this strict definition you cannot resist getting up on your soapbox and preaching to me about how terrible my behaviour is, until i feel guilty for it, even if that behaviour actually contributed to my overall happiness.

you don’t actually know me very well. you’ve spent so much of my life focussing on what i am not, and trying to mould me into the person that you think i should be, that you haven’t spent a huge amount of time trying to find out who i am.

you have no authority over me apart from the authority that i designate to you as a family member, and it’s hard to give you any of that authority when you aren’t acting like one. when our relationship is like this you don’t give me advice, you set me a list of goals that is impossible to complete. no recognition is given for the tasks that are completed because in the time that it’s taken to achieve one, you’ve already set several others. it’s an endless unhealthy treadmill that i got off years ago and i don’t wish to get back on. i’m sorry.

i tried so hard to fix this. i’m going to miss you.



damaged goods.



“she forced a smile, said, “boy, come kiss my mouth. you know that hope you’re holding to? it looks an awful lot like fear. now you’re so quick to fall on failure, so quick to raise your voice. you had an option. i was your chance to feel complete. but when i leaned in close to you, you kissed your fear, instead of me. you had my hand in your hand, you had my lip in your teeth, you had my heart on your sleeve, you had a chance to breathe. but boy, you wouldn’t let your fear recede. so i moved on. it’s too late to change your mind. now you got scared, boy, and i got gone. now you failed, and there’s no way to turn back time. you had your chance, boy, i tried.”

“you tried?” i looked her in the eye, and smiled, “my girl, you must understand that fear is not some product that i made. it crept unwelcome in my head the day they had her torn away. it changed me. now at the end of every day i lie awake at night & wait to feel the wires of my brain get cut, and quietly rearranged, and hear my heart beat exclaim. still, i refuse to let her go.

so we escape to our mistakes, for they wait patiently for us. they always wait for me. if my fear has kept me here, only my fear can set me free. and i’m sorry, dear, but don’t you dare speak another word. how could i risk holding your heart in me, while still in love with her?”“



i was heading home. i was on my way to the airport.



X: you came back.
O: i tried not to. i went on dates. i had a lot of great, first dates with guys who were planning to stay guys. but, you know, you have a great date and you want to go and tell your best friend about it. and my best friend is him. her. and then you have a few bad dates, and… she’s my best friend. she knows me. she loves me. she’s my boyfriend. at the end of the day. it’s her. even when she hurts me. even when i hate her.
X: she’s who you want to talk to.






“i doused our friendly venture with a hard-faced, three-word gesture. we kissed. and, although i ended up with sore lips, it just wasn’t like the old days anymore. nothing’s changed, i still love you… i still love you only slightly less than i used to, my love.

typical me, typical me, typical me. but we cannot cling to the old dreams anymore.”



the very best of the smiths. (by felicity JC.)

the very best of the smiths. (by felicity JC.)



i wrote this on your birthday.




S,

it’s raining like it was the weekend i started this letter. like the surgeons have taken a rib spreader and split the sky wide open, just to watch it as it weeps. one year four months and i don’t like how time’s flown. i wrote him a letter and told him to stop circling with two left wings. but his response to that’s a story for another chapter.

i’ve never been any good at writing to you. about you i could write for weeks but to you. to you’s something else. there’s a directness that makes my skin crawl and my stomach hurl, but write to you i shall.

you are just as much of a dick drunk as you are sober, S. the playback just runs smoother in your head. or perhaps isn’t archived in your head at all. what you sometimes miss is that there are parts of you that are dull drunk and shiny sober. you don’t need a drink for people to like you. you’re charming, intellectual, talented and a damn good writer - inebriated or not. you’re the best cook i know, the best worst vegetarian, the owner of an awesome book collection, have awesome hair and a great ass in jeans. you’re one of the most amazing people i’ve ever met and even with all of that aside i can’t fucking quit you. and if i can’t quit you there are other people that can’t quit you and we may not care if you’re drunk or sober but we do care if you end up dead in a ditch.

yeah, it’s going to be hard. it’s going to be difficult. it’s probably already has been difficult in ways that not me nor anybody else will ever understand. you’re probably going to feel things that you haven’t felt in years, feel things that nobody else can comprehend. i know there are levels on which i can’t relate but what i can do is fucking try. and there are plenty of people in your life that will go past several tries and run the entire length of the track and back again just to be by your side. and i bet there are people who can relate on the levels that those people can’t.

i don’t know many things but i do know that you can’t let one event define your life. just one event out of the series of events and circumstances that make everything, can’t define you. no matter what. you know the event that i mean, and i can tell you you’re better than that. you’re worth so much more. and you can’t let this illness define you. you can beat this. i know you can. and i will do everything in my power to help you. even if that means walking out of your life and writing to you through a fucking blog for the rest of it. if you wrote back to me when you were thirty and told me you were happy, it would have been worth it.

you deserve this. you deserve sobriety. you deserve happiness. and you don’t deserve to achieve it just because of some fucking girl. you deserve to achieve it because you like yourself, even just a little. and if you don’t like yourself enough i will rally up all the people i know to bombard you with compliments through every medium each and every fucking day until you believe them.

you once said this to me, and now i’m going to say it to you: i will wait for you to feel better. i will force myself to be better than i was, and be the person you deserve. i will be a better person, i will listen to friends & their advice, & i will hope and pray that you will give me a chance however slow we take it and by gods i will fucking earn it. i will do an endless list of things. people like you do not come along regularly, if not more than once. you are worth a thousand me’s and i want to have you deeply engrained in my life again. i ask for time. i ask for perseverance. i know i don’t deserve these things but i will work for them as hard as i can.

i’m sorry. i know i haven’t always been the perfect friend. i can’t promise many things but i can promise you this: you never have to tackle the demons of captain samuel joshua ‘fit for battle’ fucking syndrome esq. alone. i love you. i will always fucking love you and even if i’m never lucky enough to have a constant love in my own life again i’ll god damn make sure all my friends have it in theirs.

i’m so proud of you. you can do this. you’ve got so far already. you’re worth it. you’re worth whatever it takes. you’re worth a million fucking sunrises and sunsets and you deserve all the happiness in the world. you’re one in a million, never forget that.

F.



(mummy issues). (by felicity JC.)

(mummy issues). (by felicity JC.)



i get homesick for places i’ve never been. (by felicity JC.)

i get homesick for places i’ve never been. (by felicity JC.)



23 (if it was possible to burn onto a record, i would).





01. la dispute - nine.
02. manchester orchestra - simple math.
03. band of horses - is there a ghost.
04. the shins - simple song.
05. the dykeenies - clean up your eyes.
06. modest mouse - float on.
07. ball park music - sad rude future dude.
08. pegasus bridge - ribena.
09. all get out - lucky bastard.
10. regina spektor - your honor.
11. GROUPLOVE - itchin’ on a photograph.
12. mumford & sons - little lion man.
13. brandi carlile - the story.
14. shy & the fight - how to stop an imploding man.
15. tegan & sara - come on kids.
16. los campesinos! - too many flesh suppers.
17. the tallest man on earth - you’re going back.
18. freelance whales - broken horse.
19. listener - wooden heart.

a mix to be there for those days. you know the days i mean.






♥