November 2, 2011
Dear Pumping Thing Called Heart,
I know you have been trying to avoid receiving any information from me lately. I’ve learned your new best skill, making decisions impulsively. It’s romantic. It’s pure. It’s idealistic. Yet it’s utterly stupid. Don’t be mad at me yet. Keep reading.
I long discovered the reason you wasn’t allowed yourself to just pause or slow down for a second and think through this matter elaborately, with me, ever before. You know damn well what you were doing. You know damn well whom you were breaking. You didn’t stop just because you want to know what made you crossed the line. The line was there for a reason. I made that line, to be precise. How many new lines do I have to draw in our lifetime?
I know your intention. It’s a good one. Maybe it’s the timing that wasn’t so right. You try to be true to yourself. Express how you feel just the exact way you feel inside. No more lies or excuses. Guards are gone. Welcome all the risks just to see how strong your belief can stand. But please know one thing. As far as I know, you are the only one who applies the idea. No one shares it with you. So be prepared. I won’t be there when you’re down.
What an unnecessarily hurtful feeling you put yourself through.
So Called Brain
“Sadly, we’ve gotten letters from people who explain that they love the show but hate the gay story-lines. That we shouldn’t be polluting their children’s heads. To this I’d sometimes like to sarcastically reply, would you also like us to tell them that a stork is dropping off our offspring?”
- Dianna Agron (via fuckyeahgirlcrush)