Love Can Happen. And It Can Change Everything.

Source: Reddit

When I was 6, my dad died. When I was a teenager, my mom died. I went to live with my grandmother, and a few months later, she died. I was left homeless and alone. Somehow, to this day I still don’t know how, I managed to get through high school. I lived in a Pinto and a box my last year. This was in a small town, back in the day. No idea why no one ever tried to “intervene”.

Anyway, I was lucky, because I was smart. Somehow, God’s grace, I don’t know, I managed to get into a very good school. I went.

Because no one ever bothered to tell me I didn’t have to pay my mom’s debts, I did. I worked at multiple jobs throughout my college days. No social life, just school and work. By the end of it, I was exhausted. I paid off her debts. In retrospect, they weren’t that much. Just a few thousand dollars. But back then….I remember someone at the hospital where she’d died telling me it wasn’t a charity hospital. I was a minor! If I’d known any better, I would’ve realized I didn’t owe anyone anything. But no one bothered.

A letter to my dead girlfriend – m4w

Source: Craigslist

It has been a rough year darling. The ethereal power of Craigslist will get this message to you I am sure, like in some sort of cheesy 80s movie.

Well back to the last year, you of course died at the beginning of it which put things to a sour start. I spent last night with your mum and dad, we went to that Italian place in Wicker Park, who on the surface seem to be coping. I had everyone get together for my 25th which went well, your ladies are on top form and I think some engagements are brewing. Ellen is turning up the heat on Steve who will soon be forced down to one knee as you predicted.

Last weekend I finally took the step of cleaning out your clothes from the closet, which is very barren now. I invited your friends over to take your what they liked, it was an awkward session. I think they took them more as a favor to me than anything else. Liz cried when we pulled out all of your shoes, Miranda joined in and then Catherine broke down. It was strange to stand in our bedroom surrounded by three crying girls. I made a joke about them crying for joy at the prospect of some free Manolo Balhniks which they didn’t seem to find very funny.

“Today You … Tomorrow Me.”

Source: Reddit

This past year I have had 3 instances of car trouble. A blowout on a freeway, a bunch of blown fuses and an out of gas situation. All of them were while driving other people’s cars which, for some reason, makes it worse on an emotional level. It makes it worse on a practical level as well, what with the fact that I carry things like a jack and extra fuses in my car, and know enough not to park, facing downhill, on a steep incline with less than a gallon of fuel.

Anyway, each of these times this shit happened I was DISGUSTED with how people would not bother to help me. I spent hours on the side of the freeway waiting, watching roadside assistance vehicles blow past me, for AAA to show. The 4 gas stations I asked for a gas can at told me that they couldn’t loan them out “for my safety” but I could buy a really shitty 1-gallon one with no cap for $15. It was enough, each time, to make you say shit like “this country is going to hell in a handbasket.”

But you know who came to my rescue all three times? Immigrants. Mexican immigrants. None of them spoke a lick of the language. But one of those dudes had a profound effect on me.

RIP Jackie

Source: Reddit

Jackie

August 28th, 1988 – December 4th, 2008

I first took notice of you in Chemistry, 11th grade. You were the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. I was the luckiest kid in the world when we were chosen to be lab partners by the teacher. I was pretty nervous though, you being captain of the Volleyball team and all I did was sit on the bench on the varsity basketball team and play video games.

However, we wasted no time in getting to know each other. We both loved the same movies, music, we had an almost identical view on life, except for religion. We became best friends. After only two weeks of meeting you, I knew I was in love.

We spent every day together. We went to prom together. I remember everyone saying “Them two are going to get married one day”. We were both infatuated with love; but terrified. When we graduated, you were going to college in Virginia, but it was still amazing.

Amanda

Source: Reddit

In 2001, I met a cute girl named Amanda at my high school. She and I were both pretty quiet but became good friends and hung out together often; eventually, she became the kind of childhood friend you’d sit on the sofa with for hours on a Saturday not really doing anything other than eating lots of Gogurts and unconsciously enjoying the purity and innocence of youth. I was friend-zoned early but in all honesty I didn’t mind (and only really realize it now). The emotional connection we shared was different than anything I had ever experienced at the time. On a brisk October Tuesday afternoon, she called to tell me she was diagnosed with Leukemia. She was very relaxed about it, without tears or anxiety. I still believe she didn’t know what was going on. I tried to comfort her but she didn’t want to focus on that when we spent time together. Months passed and she underwent various treatments. The thought of being there for her and supporting her more than her other “friends” made me feel like I had a purpose, a mission, even an empirically quantifiable model of success: her getting over leukemia. She and I would skip classes together to go to her “doctor’s appointments” since she “couldn’t really drive and needed a driver for safety”. We would stop to get milkshakes on the way back to school, and blue razzberry slushies from the gas station on Fridays. I would be lying if I said I didn’t grow to love this girl. As she got worse, I was at the hospital every day by her side. Her other “friends” were mysteriously absent. One day I caught myself thinking “If only she can get over this, she and I can go to college together and maybe even get married – really have a true life together.” I had fallen for her. Pinned on her was my future, my desires, and my first sense of deep love for someone else.

Walt Disney’s Last Words

Source: Starpulse

Actor Kurt Russell has confirmed the last two words movie mogul Walt Disney wrote before he died were the Death Proof star’s name.

It has long been rumored that Disney penned ‘Kurt’ and ‘Russell’ just before he passed away in 1966. Russell was a child actor signed to the studio at the time.

During a recent appearance on US TV show Jimmy Kimmel Live, the 56-year-old Russell confirmed the urban legend as fact.

He said, “It’s true. I don’t know what to make of that. I was taken into his office one time after he died and I was shown that.”

Savior of the World

Source: academic.ru

Vasili Alexandrovich Arkhipov ( _ru. Василий Александрович Архипов) (1926-1999) was a Soviet naval officer. During the Cuban Missile Crisis he prevented the launch of a nuclear torpedo and therefore a possible nuclear war.

On October 27 1962, during the Cuban Missile Crisis, a group of eleven United States Navy destroyers and the aircraft carrier USS “Randolph” entrapped a nuclear-armed Soviet Foxtrot class submarine B-59 near Cuba and started dropping practice depth charges, explosives intended to force the submarine to come to the surface for identification. Allegedly, the captain of the submarine, Valentin Grigorievitch Savitsky, believing that a war might already have started, prepared to launch a retaliatory nuclear-tipped torpedo.

The Portal

Source: Reddit

[I'm a] senior in high school and my pretty passionate English teacher told me the following story one day after class (just him and i in the classroom). He was hesitant at first, which you’ll understand why soon.

He told me a story of how him and friend of his decided to go out one night for a walk, no particular reason. They were headed back while in a grass field when everything went cold and silent. They both froze. Couldn’t move. What he could only describe as a “portal” opened up in front of them. A dark, black, doorway.

Staring At Me

Source: Reddit

About fifteen years ago I was a 19 year old backpacker. I was staying the night at a rural castle hostel in Ireland with a few Philadelphians I had met. The night progressed uneventfully – stone sober, a cheese sandwich for dinner – until the three of us lay down to sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw row upon row of women staring at me. They weren’t angry. They weren’t menacing. Just there. Dozens of them. Staring at me. No irises in their eyes. Just white. Staring at me.

Ivan

Source: Reddit

When I was 16, I worked at a law firm downtown as a summer intern. Every day, I’d go get lunch from this row of vendors – either a gyro, a hot dog, a kebab, or a burrito. Each one only took cash, so I got used to carrying around a bunch of cash, and every day, I’d pay for my meal, take all the change I got and anything in my pockets, and give it to a local homeless guy named Ivan. I’d also just say “Hi, Ivan” or “Nice seeing you, man” or something along those lines.

Ivan was a mid-20s black guy who had fought in Iraq, but had some severe PTSD and had run away from whatever family and friends he had and moved a few hundred miles to upstate New York. He was generally nice, but quiet, and obviously in a very bad place in his mind. He had a giant, raggedy beard, clothes that he had obviously just picked off the street, and I can’t remember if I ever saw him in any position other than a mixture of the fetal position and a squat. I gave him change every day that summer, until I had to go back to school.

Now, this story diverges here, and two very important outcomes arise.