I love Reina so much. Her lyrics are so beautiful, and you can tell watching her sing that she feels strongly about everything she sings.
Also, in many confusing ways, this song connects to my relationship (?) with Nick.
I miss you. I love you. I feel you. <3
Donna is still one of my favorite companions. I love her honesty, her compassion, her lust for adventure. I like to think of myself as most similar to her, in the way I view life, myself, and the fears I have. I know a lot of people found her annoying, but I absolutely adored their storyline and EVERY SINGLE EPISODE with her.
That being said, I love Amy. And the new Doctor. And everything that’s happened since Donna’s story ended.
But Donna is lovely. Never forget. <3
Also, this song is definitely Donna’s song. :)
Yesterday I wore the first pair of jeans I’ve worn in over 14 months. I couldn’t bring myself to because of all my body image issues and fears and anxieties. But I finally bought a pair that fit, and wore it with some nice heels and a beautiful shirt.
And you know what? I felt amazing.
I’ve come so far in the last year. It’s hard to admit to myself sometimes, in the midst of sadness and fear and tragedy. But I’ve come so far. And there must be some reason why I’m still here, yes? Yes.
Slowly, slowly, I’m learning to trust. Float on my back in the ocean and let it take me where it will, because I always have the power to fight back and move when I want to.
I’m so thankful for everyone who led me to this place, who held my hand through the darkness, who witnessed me at my darkest points and still loves me today. It is so likely that I wouldn’t still be here today without that.
Life is hard. The truth hurts. I still cry a lot. And I’m still afraid.
But I’m alive.
And God, I am grateful every single day for that.
I. AM. ALIVE.
Margo Roth Spiegelman was a person, too. And I had never quite thought of her that way, not really; it was a failure of all of my previous imaginings. All along—not only since she left, but for a decade before—I had been imagining her without listening, without knowing that she made as a poor window as I did. And so I could not imagine her as a person who could feel fear, who could feel isolated in a roomful of people, who could be shy about her record collection because it was too personal to share. Someone who might read travel books to escape having to live in the town that so many people could escape to. Someone who—because no one thought she was a person—had no one to really talk to.
And all at once I knew how Margo Roth Spiegelman felt when she wasn’t being Margo Roth Spiegelman: she felt empty. She felt the unscaleable wall surrounding her. I thought of her asleep on the carpet with only that jagged sliver of sky above her. Maybe Margo felt comfortable there because Margo the person had lived like that all the time: in an abandoned room with blocked-out windows, the only light pouring in through holes in the roof. Yes. The fundamental mistake I had always made—that she had, in fairness, always led me to make—was this: Margo was not a miracle. She was not an adventure. She was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.
Death feels so close all of the time. It could’ve been me. And that’s such a weird feeling. Suddenly, my heart feels jumpy, as though it could give out on me at any moment, though I know how strong it is.
Moments like this bring back all of the pain and grief of losing Nick, and I wish so much I could be there up in the stars with him. Except I don’t want to leave this earth yet. I don’t want to leave this beauty behind. I want to be able to live in both worlds, laugh and cry and swim in that deep blue purple painting.
It could’ve been me last night. It so easily could have been. And of course, I still have that small voice in the back of my head saying, “It should have been you.”
But as I grieve and respect and reflect, I remind myself to be grateful I am alive. It is a grand thing today simply to be alive, to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and breath in the fresh air.
Don’t let go. Remember those who have passed. Remember the fragility and wonder of life.
And give thanks.
For you are, for I am, still alive.
It doesn’t much matter when you have just now realized, all the time later, that you are still alive.
-John Green, Looking for Alaska
MULDER: You… were my friend, and you told me the truth. Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant… my touchstone.
SCULLY: And you are mine.
The X-Files, “The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati”
<3 I truly believe they have a spiritual connection. They need each other. They guide each other. Through the good times and bad.
I am such a Mulder-Scully shipper. I love them so much, because they never overdo their relationship. And because they truly are on a life journey together, searching for truth and something that’s missing inside of them.
“You saved me! As difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over! You’ve kept me honest … you’ve made me a whole person. I owe you everything … Scully, and you owe me nothing. I don’t know if I wanna do this alone… I don’t even know if I can … and if I quit now, they win.” -Fox Mulder
“Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free. “