MEMENTO MORI

kobako:

youareanobject:

fuckyeahphilip:(via unencumbered)

“You are my best friend. You get drunk and act like a knucklehead, taking off your shirt cuz you’re the beefiest out of us all, but maybe not necessarily in the best shape. You look good, is the point, and when you drink you just want the eyes on you. Doesn’t matter whose they are. I love that about you. That and your honesty and loyalty. You like Adam Sandler movies and the Killers…wish I could change that about you, but these are minor things, at least within the grand context of the universe. It’s a party. You sit next to me. I put my hand on your head and we pose for a picture for Shelly, my ex. I’m about as drunk as you but I have inhibitions to spare. Wish I could be as free as you. You smell good and I get ashamed of myself for noticing. This has been happening to me lately. So I comment on Shelly’s tits and she walks away. You look me in the face and talk about how many credits you have left and I could probably kiss you, but I’ve never kissed a guy before. Honestly, I’ve never wanted to. Before you, I mean. So screw it—I give you a peck on the lips—our lips touch for exactly 2.4 seconds. You look me in the eye, then, after a brief pause, you laugh softly, mush my face gently. You won’t remember this happened. You won’t let yourself. I open my mouth to explain, but they call you into the kitchen for a shot of Jaeger and you howl your approval and get up and go. I sigh a chuckle. I could never date you. My life would be turned upside down, my parents, by brothers and sisters, my exes, my friends and co-workers…and if we broke up and I went back to chicks, since you’re the only guy I’ve felt this way about…what would that leave me? Nah, we’ll be friends, and I’ll ignore this phase or whatever it is. We’ll graduate and move on. We’ll be buds til then. Bros til then. And I’ll wait for the bullshit/pretend fight we’ll force ourselves to have with each other, to make separating easier. That’s how it works, so that’s how it will be.”

selbstfindung:

kobako:

youareanobject:

fuckyeahphilip:(via unencumbered)

“You are my best friend. You get drunk and act like a knucklehead, taking off your shirt cuz you’re the beefiest out of us all, but maybe not necessarily in the best shape. You look good, is the point, and when you drink you just want the eyes on you. Doesn’t matter whose they are. I love that about you. That and your honesty and loyalty. You like Adam Sandler movies and the Killers…wish I could change that about you, but these are minor things, at least within the grand context of the universe. It’s a party. You sit next to me. I put my hand on your head and we pose for a picture for Shelly, my ex. I’m about as drunk as you but I have inhibitions to spare. Wish I could be as free as you. You smell good and I get ashamed of myself for noticing. This has been happening to me lately. So I comment on Shelly’s tits and she walks away. You look me in the face and talk about how many credits you have left and I could probably kiss you, but I’ve never kissed a guy before. Honestly, I’ve never wanted to. Before you, I mean. So screw it—I give you a peck on the lips—our lips touch for exactly 2.4 seconds. You look me in the eye, then, after a brief pause, you laugh softly, mush my face gently. You won’t remember this happened. You won’t let yourself. I open my mouth to explain, but they call you into the kitchen for a shot of Jaeger and you howl your approval and get up and go. I sigh a chuckle. I could never date you. My life would be turned upside down, my parents, by brothers and sisters, my exes, my friends and co-workers…and if we broke up and I went back to chicks, since you’re the only guy I’ve felt this way about…what would that leave me? Nah, we’ll be friends, and I’ll ignore this phase or whatever it is. We’ll graduate and move on. We’ll be buds til then. Bros til then. And I’ll wait for the bullshit/pretend fight we’ll force ourselves to have with each other, to make separating easier. That’s how it works, so that’s how it will be.”

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