Why Must They Be So Pretti

why must they be so pretti

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i'm in tears (x)

in another universe :(

in another universe, we don't sit around telling each other all the things we deserve (a happy home, a heart that's not outside the chest, love &c.) knowing we can never have them. in another one i drop my pretensions and stop trying to weave pretty phrases and just tell you i fucking miss you.

in another universe, you still remember your childhood best friend's landline number and in another one it doesn't break my heart.

in another universe, we stumble our way through a Nick Cave song and the world fixes itself. and in another one we grew up together and your hands always had space for my sharpie hearts. in every universe but this one, we get it right, we turn to each other and never away, the sweater in my closet doesn't stop smelling like you and me wishing you happy birthday 5 months and 16 days ago isn't the last time we talked. in another universe, its friday morning and i tell you your breath is terrible.

in another universe, im not terrified of public places and you serenade every tired stranger and pink sky with a Queen song. in another universe, you're not just in my notes app, not just in the dreams i tell no one, not just the voice in my head and the curve of that stranger's neck. because in another universe, you're here and holding my hand in grocery stores and the city doesn't cry about love.

in another one, i slip you the letters i write and read poems about august without crying, without crumbling to pieces on my bedroom floor. and in another universe my mother doesn't have to remind me to clean my room and in anoher i tie my hair and tell that girl that i love her and she kisses me because my room is clean.

in another universe, love is nothing but the lyrics to your favourite song and the upside-down flowers i draw on my arm. and in another one, my hands don't shake and i don't memorize my loneliness' address and send him cards on Christmas.

in another universe i dont keep writing the same thing and you dont keep calling me out on it. in another univese you tell me it's okay and i believe you. in another one i dont tell people oh we just grew apart when they ask about you. in another universe there are two moons and i chop garlic while you peel avocados and magic is nothing but the mundanity of love.

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ive referenced this here a lot and its, the whole post honestly is one of the most pain-stakingly beautiful thing ever

and the last line is a reference to this gift-from-the-gods fic on ao3 (by @theesteemedladydebourgh ) from this moment when james is thinking;

"What is magic, he thinks, tracing invisible patterns on her bare back, head tilted to look into the grass surrounding them, if not the mundanity of love?"

I want to be the idea of love so grand she wants to experience; If she wants love letters, I'd write her one for every second of every day; I'd bleed my heart onto the paper, make my blood the ink of my pen. I will love her the way she deserves and so much more. If she wants a flower, I'd make her a garden. If she wants to dance, I'd dance with her with my heart on my sleeve. If she wants the moon, I'd give it to her, not an exaggeration but I'll give my last breath to offer her the moon. I'd show her, not just tell her, "I love you."

The Running Chicken Nebula, IC 2944 // Tiago Gregório

To my Milena ( @silenziobruno ) you are abbreviations of heavens !