Booty small or is it the dysmorphia? (I‘m serious)

Do people date anymore? Or is everyone just players?

There are still things I want to tell you. Small things, mostly. A plant I finally learned the name of. Something stupid one of my cats did. A sentence I heard on the street that would have made you laugh. A tree somewhere in Berlin carrying fruit, the kind we would have stopped to inspect as if discovering it ourselves. Sometimes something happens and my first thought is still: I have to tell you this. And for one tiny second, you still exist exactly where you used to. Then I remember. There is nowhere to send it anymore.

this seems kinda ridiculous, convince me not to delete

Heartbreak like I’ve never experienced it before. Boy it hurts💔

This queerling is the most helpful person I’ve ever met. And we met on @collective! We’d been chatting here for some time. When I landed in Toronto, they drove me from the airport to my Airbnb. They invited me to their Thursday vegan potlucks, which was a great way to meet new queers. They offered me an apartment to rent in the house they live in. I lived there all by myself. They helped me navigate Canada. And when I was sick. And many other times. And they drove me to the airport on my last day. I wouldn’t have made it without you. Thanks a billion for everything, @biscuit 🏳️‍🌈🩷

I think that’s one of the strangest things about losing someone who is still alive. Nothing disappears all at once. The person leaves first. The habits take longer. The conversations you continue inside your head take even longer. And the future might be the last thing to leave. I don’t only miss you. I miss things that never even happened. Trips we talked about but never took. Summers we never reached. Ordinary Sundays. Getting older. Going to the swimming pool, just the two of us Spending one New Year’s Eve together.

Was to late to get eclipse sunglasses so I had to improvise. Wish me luck.