A group of rough looking boys walked past me today and all I heard of their conversation was “he’s got that anxiety disorder bro so I went with him so he’d be more comfortable” and it made me realise the world isn’t all that bad
The pet store I worked at had a pen with rabbits near the front door. On every side of the pen were huge signs saying “You can pet me, but don’t pick me up!” One day two absolutely huge guys came in and one immediately reaches into the pen to grab a rabbit. Before i could say anything his friend grabbed his arm and asked him “did you see the sign?” He said “yeah! it says that you can pick them up but don’t pet them!” Then he went quiet for a moment and softly said “I didn’t read it right did I?” And his friend just puts his arm on his shoulder and said “its ok, i know you’ve got that thing where words get mixed up. Let just pet these cute lil shits” And I still haven’t gotten over that interaction.
I was walking my dog through Boston bc he likes the likes car rides. He’s a little thing tbh we call him short and long. So this huge scary man with a full beard approaches me like “hey can my buddy and I pet your dog? He gets nervous around dogs but your’s is so small I think it’s a good place to start.” Ofc I was like “yes he’s very friendly!” So this guy brings his equally big friend over and they sit on the floor while this man looks terrified of my tiny dog so big man number one asks “can I pick him up?” And i say yes so he picks him up and puts him on man number two’s lap and man number two is abt to freak out and his friend straight up just goes “hey man, it’s okay just relax I’d never let anything hurt you. He’s a good boy.” I’ll never forget it ever bc I know that man looked at me (5'3 , glasses, probably wearing a sweater vest) and my dog (kinda goofy looking little thing) and was like ‘ah yes the two least intimidating living things I’ve seen in Boston all day he’ll feel relaxed around them’ and went out of his way to help his friend. It makes me so happy
A good post, pure.
The universe never really sent me a warning. When love first arrived, I didn’t pay attention to him the moment he walked right up to me. I didn’t even spare him a second glance. Love wasn’t what I wanted love to be, was far from what I wanted him to be. Love was from a different world and our paths crossing was never part of our plan. But love had already set his heart on me and was persistent. Love showed effort that I never asked him for—love waited for me because love knew I would always walk home. So love walked beside me every single day on my way home and held my hand. Love would even sometimes stay for a little while once we reach the house, love gave me a forehead kiss while my head laid on his shoulder riding the bus but left it at that because love knew that if his lips touched somewhere else, it would be another story. Love made sure I always made it home safe, love inspired me. Love made me do things I never imagined I’d ever do in my life. Love held the ice in the warmth of his hand and it melted. Just like that. But love always fought with me. Love glared daggers at the friend who was only asking for help in courting someone else that he admired. Love stopped talking, stopped seeing me. And love grew tired. Love gave up. But love told me he still wanted to be friends. And with a final wave of hand and a smile, love walked away.
And once he was no longer in sight, I was sure I wanted nothing to do with that. I swore I wouldn’t let love set foot in my house again for a while once it came knocking at my door on a winter night. But love reappeared not long after, just when I wasn’t expecting love to.
Love looked different now. No more tan skin and deep, chocolate eyes. Love smelled different now, spoke differently now. With a sweeter voice, gentler hands, a broader back, and a different kind of warmth. Now love’s eyes, a lighter shade of brown—so mesmerizing. But love wasn’t all new after all. Because love already met me years before, he just didn’t remember. Love didn’t remember my name, but recognized my face. Love wanted to know my name. For the second time. Love roamed the hallways, sneaking a glimpse room after room searching for that one familiar face.
Now love would stay up late at night with me when my mind won’t stop counting reasons to hate myself, keeping me wide awake. But would usually make sure we both got enough rest. Love cared differently now, gave just the kind of love I have always longed for probably without him knowing it. Love became everything I have ever hoped for and so much more. Love’s arms alone felt like home and love offered more kisses now. Love felt safer now. Love made sure he always took care of himself, because he knew I couldn’t afford to lose him, so did I. Love never forgot to remind me knowing I need reassurance every 3 seconds of everyday. Love became the miracle I’ve always asked for from the heavens above. Love became my main source of happiness. Love, every time he got the chance, would hold me in his arms singing me songs all the while running his fingers through my hair and on my skin. Love would wait ‘til I finally got a ride home. Love would always think I’m beautiful—with my hair a mess, cheeks stained with tears, and with a crestfallen face. Love would always say I’m beautiful. But love would also cry, get angry, and would sometimes be cold and distant. Love would also make mistakes and would sometimes forget. Love wasn’t as simple now. Love wasn’t perfect, but neither was I. Love hasn’t been there that long, not all my life, but has been making up for all the years he wasn’t. And that’s all that mattered. Because love promised that love would be here to stay until the very last breath he’d take.
