"The hardest words to say are, “I’ll see you soon,” when you know that you can’t promise that."

—(278/365) by (DS)
 Snapchat Series (#1)
 Snapchat Series (#1)

"

I’ve spent the last six years of my life desperate to die. He’s spent the last eight months of his life desperate to live. With every breath he takes, a new miracle is born. I’ve come to resent my own pulse. Yet, as I laid next to him in his hospital bed, holding his frail hand in my mind, his pulse comforted me.

When I lied down next to him, he smiled, and I saw the man I once knew for a brief, passing moment. He smiled, squeezed my hand tighter, and talked about the song we danced to at my cousin’s wedding. He started humming it. He told me to tell him all about my classes. I told him everything, and that he needed to come visit me at college soon, so I could show him the pond with all the fishes. He promised me he would.

On the little board in his room, the nurse writes their “goals” for the day. The number one is comfort—not recovery. They’re trying to make him comfortable enough so he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s dying. Tries to make everyone forget that with every breath he takes, there is a silent sigh of relief.

She told me that she would keep him in her prayers, that god will come through in the end. Tell that his children who have to watch their father die. Tell that to his siblings who have to lose their brother. Tell that to his nephew who can’t even visit him, because every time he does, he loses it. Tell that to him, who is merely a shell of the man who he once was! Who can’t even drink a cup of water on his own. Tell that me, the one who he promised he would come visit in college, even though we both know that it’s a lie.

"

—(277/365) by (DS)

"

I’ve spent the last six years of my life desperate to die. He’s spent the last eight months of his life desperate to live. With every breath he takes, a new miracle is born. I’ve come to resent my own pulse. Yet, as I laid next to him in his hospital bed, holding his frail hand in my mind, his pulse comforted me.

When I lied down next to him, he smiled, and I saw the man I once knew for a brief, passing moment. He smiled, squeezed my hand tighter, and talked about the song we danced to at my cousin’s wedding. He started humming it. He told me to tell him all about my classes. I told him everything, and that he needed to come visit me at college soon, so I could show him the pond with all the fishes. He promised me he would.

On the little board in his room, the nurse writes their “goals” for the day. The number one is comfort—not recovery. They’re trying to make him comfortable enough so he doesn’t think about the fact that he’s dying. Tries to make everyone forget that with every breath he takes, there is a silent sigh of relief.

She told me that she would keep him in her prayers, that god will come through in the end. Tell that his children who have to watch their father die. Tell that to his siblings who have to lose their brother. Tell that to his nephew who can’t even visit him, because every time he does, he loses it. Tell that to him, who is merely a shell of the man who he once was! Who can’t even drink a cup of water on his own. Tell that me, the one who he promised he would come visit in college, even though we both know that it’s a lie.

"

—(277/365) by (DS)
Anonymous asked:
"Lover" is just a piece of the puzzle that is us. But that's the piece that's not fitting in right now (read: "complicated" is putting it mildly). Tonight I ended this thing between us. We've been down & back this road for months now. As soon as things get normal between us, it's not long before they heat up & we're back between the sheets, forgetting everything else. That "lover" piece is a tricky bastard. It won't fit but without it we can't look at our picture and say it's complete.
Anonymous asked:
How can I send you ask longer than 250 symbols? I'm sorry to bother you but I noticed you can talk to people and help them. I would really use that now.

Fan mail? That’s the only other way to message people on here thagt I know of.

Anonymous asked:
Please don't stop writing

I don’t think I would be able to stop, even if I wanted to. 

Anonymous asked:
Your writing heals my soul. Thank you so much ♥️

Wow, this is so well. Thank you. ♥️

Anonymous asked:
Alright... Thank you so much ure so nice you make me wanna cry 😭 Thanks for your time and help!! Good luck in ur studies and life 😊

You’re very welcome, and thank you, sweetie. c:

© alphaelenas