Tell me about the darkness. Tell me about the scar on your collarbone. Tell me about your brother. When was the last time you talked to your father? Tell me about your favorite book; tell me about the characters who taught you how to fall in love. Tell me about the day you fell in love with yourself. Tell me about the time you stayed up all night, and you drank stale coffee while watching the sunrise. Tell me about the monsters; tell me about the nightmares. When was the last time you listened to the wind? Tell me about the first time you drank whiskey to numb the pain. Tell me about the first cut; tell me about the last one. Tell me about your favorite song. Tell me about the person who took your breath away, and then taught you how to breathe. Tell me about the first time it was hard to breathe. Tell me about the first time you believed in love; the first time you believed in yourself. Tell me about the memory you’re so desperate to forget. Tell me—tell me—tell me about the darkness; tell me about the light.
When I go, bury me with nothing but my own skin. I spent far too many days trying to outrun this thing called mine, so if I set myself into your arms would you hold me like the earth, quietly? I am yours. Give me a field, give me a big sky. A mountain. Give me your mouth. I’m just looking for a quiet place that I could die inside of.
Elena: Please don’t leave me.
Damon: I don’t have a choice, baby. You’re by far the best thing that’s happened to me in the last 173 years. I’ll die knowing I was loved. Not just by anyone. By you, Elena Gilbert.
Elena: Come back to me, please come back to me.
Damon: I love you, Elena.
I take great comfort in places where people cannot watch me -windowless rooms, basements, small rooms. I have a pretty good hunch that people are always watching me, or thinking of watching me. Not all the time, probably very rarely are they actually watching me, but the point is, the important thing, is that it could be anytime. That’s the crucial part, that at any time, someone could be watching me. I know this.
What do I do when my family’s actions make me feel subtly uncomfortable? I mean, it’s not abuse or even something like making racist comments at meals, I just get this feeling of evasiveness from the way they act around me, like they’re simultaneously intimidated by me, and trying to shield me from something I don’t know.
I forgive everyone
I forgive my parents for making me stop painting because they never thought I was good enough for anything
I forgive my very first friend for taking out her anger and insecurities on me
I forgive my family for fighting infront of me when I was 5 and didn’t even know what divorce meantI forgive everyone
I forgive my mom for not buying me the skirt I wanted more than anything when I was 6 and I forgive my dad for preferring every child on earth to meI forgive everyone
I forgive the person who switched to another song while mine was playing because they thought my music taste sucked ass
I forgive the girl who used to always push me in the line so she’d stand infront of me
I forgive her for wanting to be better than meI forgive everyone
I forgive the teacher who was rude to me everytime I opened my mouth and I forgive him for making me lose my passion about maths for a whileI forgive everyone
I forgive the guy who made me cry in the shower for the first time
I forgive my ex lover that made me feel like I was choking every minute I spent with him
I forgive the guy who thought of me as a piece of meat he couldn’t keep his hands offI forgive everyone
I forgive my sister for yelling at me in public and I forgive my mom for telling me she wishes she had an abortion, I even forgive her for wishing I was deadI forgive everyone
I forgive the girl who used to be my bestfriend but betrayed me
I forgive my bestfriend who thought I didn’t care just because I was too busy being overly emotional
I forgive myself for being overly emotionalI forgive everyone
I forgive myself for hurting myself that day
I forgive myself for feeling like I was dying on the bathroom floor because I thought I was heart-broken
I forgive the person who made me think they broke my heart
I forgive myself for taking too long to realize that nobody breaks my heartI forgive everyone
I forgive my dad for not listening when I was talking about the difference between how I am now and as a 12 year-old kid
I forgive him for not noticing that I’m actually still quite the sameI forgive the person that tried to ruin everything for me
I forgive people who thought of me as too little when I’m in fact too muchI forgive everyone
I forgive myself now for forgiving people who hurt me
For saying I’m fine
I’m good
I can be whole again
I forgive everyone
