My name is Ixtzel. Like Excel, the Microsoft Program.

I ran out of gas. I was so excited to get home, I didn’t even bother to look. 

It was Christmas Eve, I pulled off to the side of the road. Seemed like it’d been snowing for days. No traffic, no cars to come help - just me and a car full of gifts.
It was more than 20 years ago. I must have walked four miles, five, maybe. It was so still, just cold and white. The whole time, all I could think about was them in our house. The warm light in the windows, the smoke from the chimney. The sound of my daughter at the piano. The smell of the tree and the fire, oyster stew on the stove. 
I was so upset to think that I’d ruined Christmas for them, being late, leaving the gifts in the car. But the closer I got, the more I realized how funny the whole thing was, how much they’d love the story, daddy running out of gas, how every Christmas they’d get such joy from telling that story at my expense.

And then, finally I got there. I walked I walked through the door, and there was just blood. All I saw was blood. All there was was blood.

I can I can still smell the nape of her neck, feel her little fingers on my cheek, her whisper in my ear.

actual-ironman-tonystark:

queerqueensansa:

postllimit:

mom: hey *dad’s name* oh whoops i mean *brother’s name* oh no *sister’s name* i mean *name of the family goldfish* ah shoot i meant *your name* can you get down here really quick i need something

my dad has literally called me by his own name. 

my mother has called me our cats name who has been dead for five years

multiple times

Try having your grandmother do this when you have like 20 cousins.