#I wrote everyone a page long letter reflecting on my friendship with them and how much I love them

[campirebites]

I just saw ‘grieve the love you couldn’t give’ or something and lol wow makes sense that’s why the ungiven gifts at the back of my closet make me so sad I just need to donate them to goodwill

[readbykate]

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky Star Rating: ★★★★★ Release Date: February 1, 1999 Genre: YA Fiction Number of Pages: 213 Date Read: March 11, 2016

First Line: “Dear Friend, I am writing to you because she said you listen and understand and didn’t try to sleep with that person at that party even though you could have.”

Favorite Quote: “‘Charlie, do you know how smart you are?’ I just shook my head no again. He was talking for real. It was strange. ‘Charlie, you’re one of the most gifted people I’ve ever known. And I don’t mean in terms of my other students. I mean in terms of anyone I’ve ever met. That’s why I gave you the extra credit work. I was wondering if you were aware of that?’ ‘I guess so. I don’t know.’ I felt really strange. I didn’t know where this was coming from. I just wrote some essays. ‘Charlie. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I just want you to know that you’re very special and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has.’”

  Review: A truly unique coming-of-age story told through a series of letters to an unnamed friend. Our main character Charlie corresponds his first year of high school, writing about both the highs and lows. We soon learn there is a much darker past to Charlie than was first known. We also watch as he finds friends, falls in love and faces the trauma of his past. 

Admittedly, I first read this book at a time in my life when I wasn't really in the mood to accept what this book was trying to tell me. It has taken me a lot of growing, life experience, and most importantly, reflection, to appreciate this novel. It wasn’t until my second read years later that the purpose of this book truly hit me. 

I see a lot of myself in Charlie. For a long time I repressed or explained away past trauma and once I fully understood it I became deeply depressed. One of the major themes in this book was the importance of participating in life; for a long time, I was not doing that. I still find it very difficult to do so because of depression and because I isolated myself for so long that I lost many friendships. With that being said, it is also very easy to feel like a burden when you are in such a terrible head space. I read this for the second time when I was trying to trudge my way out of the dark waters of my mind and I found a lot of comfort in Charlie and everyone who helped him, because, even though I didn’t necessarily have people like that in my life, it helped to pretend as if I did, as if they were talking to me. 

With that being said, this is not a happy book. If you have experienced trauma it is not easy to read and just because it helped me does not mean it won’t negatively affect any progress you’ve made in addressing your trauma so please read this with some caution. 

Content Warnings: abortion, abuse, alcohol abuse, bullying, car accident, death, drug use, homophobia, incest, infidelity, mental illness, pedophilia, racism, rape, sexual abuse, suicide

Disclaimer: This blog was started in August of 2022, so some of my past reads from many years ago are not posted/reviewed because I don’t remember them well enough. With that being said, you can find a full list of all my read books in the links on my blog’s homepage :)

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 8

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

The final chapter. Congratulations for surviving this long with my bullshit-

“Everyone, please place the flower we have given you in their coffin.”

The sunlight was shining brightly in the early morning of NRC’s campus, 

but no happiness was to be found.

Just yesterday, you have died.

And it took a moment for Azul to realize that you were truly gone.

Everyone in NRC lined up in a single file to pay their final respects to you, one by one placing their flower in your coffin.

When it came to Azul’s turn, he had to hold himself from crying. He felt as if you were watching him. If he cried, you’ll cry too, and he doesn’t want you to fully leave this world with sadness and guilt.

He looked at you. Even if you’re dead, you looked as beautiful as ever.

He grabbed your cold hands, and placed the flower in the middle of your chest, before he gently used your hands to cover the flower, as if you are holding it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I hope you go to a safe place.” And he walked away.

=============================================================

Azul walked back to Octavinelle with Jade and Floyd. They were silent. Yes, even Floyd stayed quiet.

The atmosphere was solemn.

Azul was solemn.

Never in his life have he came across death, let alone, someone he hold close to.

He used to love before.

He went back to his office alone and tilted his head up. Jade and Floyd went back to their rooms.

He’s not crying. He won’t cry for you.

Read it.

He heard something whisper.

“What..?”

The notebook.

He glanced to his right, the notebook labelled “ To Azul Ashengrotto”.

“Read it after they die,” Trey’s words echoed in his head as he recalls.

He grabbed the book.

To Azul Ashengrotto.

He stared at it, hesitantly flipping to the first page.

“I’m rewriting this from the accounts of Y/n, Azul. She asked for it. I hope you’re reading this.

- Trey Clover”

So Trey wrote this book for you to him.

“Azul and I were chilling at Monstro Lounge in the VIP room.

Lmao, he was soooo unlucky with his pulls, and had to answer all my questions and stuff. Apparently he thinks Idia is more handsome than Jade. Ooh~ 

I really loved the fact he wanted to spend time with me although he looks so done. I really appreciate it!”

He snorted. That was so you.

“Azul and I hanged out at the Rose Kingdom. I’m so glad Headmaster allowed me to hang out with him! Sometimes I feel like Headmaster is a dad. 

I had so much fun! Though, it’s kinda embarrassing that Azul spoilt me with so many gifts, and all I did was drag him around. I love the octopus plushie he won for me. It’s so chubby, soft and cute, just like him! 

He also bought me food from Trey’s awesome family bakery, and a really expensive pendent. I feel guilty, but I love it! It’s so pretty!”

He sighed. Really? Chubby?

“Headmaster told me I’m going to die in five months time. I’m really scared. I know I’ve joked about I feel like dying cuz of Professor Crewel’s homework, now facing with death, it feels really scary.

I have to tell everyone right? Headmaster told me he’ll tell my friends, that includes Azul. How would he feel? I don’t want him to feel sad..”

He flipped to the next page.

“Azul, Jade and Floyd came to visit me. Actually EVERYONE did! Even Leona and Idia! Can you believe it?? But I was so happy that Azul and the tweels came.

I rubbed my eyes so hard because I didn’t want them to see me cry. I was just so happy to see them!”

“Trey told me something. Well, an offered to do something for me. 

He knew I had a superrrr big crush on Azul, and he said I should tell him. I was so embarrassed at first, but I’m going to die soon, so I have to confess sooner or later right? 

He told me he’ll write a whole record of me of what I want to tell him, and then I can give it for him to read after I die.

Sounds like a good idea, but also kind of cruel. After I die????

What should I do?”

So that’s what you were talking about with him.

“I got to be discharged!

FINALLY OH MY SEVENSSSSS-

I CAN GET FRESH AIR BEFORE I DIE

DO YOU KNOW HOW BORING IT IS TO BE CHAINED TO A BED, DOING NOTHING UNTIL SOMEONE COMES TO VISIT???

PROFESSOR TREIN’S CLASS IS WAY BETTER-

Azul brought me around the entire campus, and to Octavinelle! And we played UNO! Although I lost a lot... But I’m happy I got to spend time with him and see everyone outside of the infirmary! ^^”

“I went to NRC’s Halloween Celebration!

IT. WAS. SO. COOL!!

There were like flying decorations and good food,

I got to see NRC become so lively and colorful! It was amazing!

Also I got to hang out with Azul and the tweels, and of course, everyone else!

I even got to be part of all the scaring and stuff at the Octavinelle’s scare house! heheheh~ 

I love the big finale, I wish it could last forever.”

“I made up my mind. 

I’m gonna ask Trey to help me write that book. I want Azul to have a piece of me even when I’m gone. I won’t leave him alone, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

If Trey is giving me the opportunity to do so, I’ll take it! Though, I should’ve done it from the beginning..”

“Azul kissed me. 

Oh my shit-

MMM I SHOULDN’T HAVE DRANK THE PLUM WINE HE GAVE ME BEFORE WE KISSED, I PROBABLY SMELT BAD-

BUT HE SAID HE LIKES IT??? WAS IT A GOOD CALL I DON’T KNOW-

But... I’m happy.. I got the courage to confess to him! On top of that, he said yes! I’m so happy I could cry..”

“I’m going to be giving the notebook to Trey. He’s gonna record it all down for me today. 

Azul, I hope you’re reading this. I want you to flip to the back. I asked Trey to attached something really important I want to share with you.”

He flipped to the back. There was a slip of paper folded, stapled to the page. It also held the pendent he bought for you. He grabbed it, and unfolded the paper.

“Azul, 

I’m writing this to you 5 months before I die. Crowley told me to tell everyone about my condition, but I wrote this for you specially.

Remember I told you in that truth or dare game?

“If I told you I was scared to die, what would you do?”

To tell you now, I’m still kind of scared. But I won’t show it! Pretending not being scared isn’t like lying.

Okay, but a practical thing, you could do anything you want with this book.

You can tear it up, throw it away, hide it or even show to everyone! Totally up to you!

I’m gonna be honest with you, I was and still jealous of you.

You were and are the picture perfect honor student of NRC. I haven’t been in NRC as long as you, but I’m just so jealous you manage to be so cool and flawless in everything you do! Well, maybe except for flying..

But still! You were and still are my role model! You always manage to amaze me! But not only that, you treated me like your best friend no matter what position you are! Maybe that’s why I fell for you, you didn’t show biasness towards me to become my friend. I hope you were genuine about our friendship!

But, I like the fact you actually sometimes don’t need other people to reflect about yourself, unlike me. I can’t reflect about me all by myself. If I were like you, maybe I could’ve been able to live entirely by myself, with my own unique worth and responsibilities. Of course, while still being friends with others!

But when it comes to self reflection, you are down to earth with yourself, you speak to yourself, and that’s very independent of you. Ever since you were little you were like that too, and that’s what made you hardworking and diligent!

I’ll end it right here, to tell you I love you. Ehehe~ Sorry it’s so sudden.

I love you, meanie.”

drip.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

Slowly, Azul felt tears rolling down his face.

He broke. Except... that wasn’t true.

He’d been broken when he first heard you were about to die. He just kept strong for you, as you did for him.

He was so glad, he had spent his time with you.

You needed him. You felt like he’d done everything for you.

But now, you’re gone.

It was thanks to you, he never felt insecure about his past anymore. For the first time he met you, his really lived for the first time. He existed in this world.

“Thank you, y/n..” he choked, smiling meekly at your final goodbye letter to him, as he clutched the pendent he gave you.

“I love you so much...”

From Ramshackle dorm, your slightly dusty octopus plushie rest on the side of your pillow.

From far away, he sensed you hugging it, whispering so close to him although so far,

“I love you too, meanie..”

END

============================================================

HO SHIT-

REBLOG IT I FELT MY TEARS I-

Ok I’m joking

thank you for surviving and following with the story. 

Azul loves you. Bye, have a good day!

@magicpumpkin3 don’t kill me pls-

[citrusdarling7]

Dumbledore's Villainhood

description- an essay i wrote when i should have been doing actual course work

warnings- mentions of abusive households, spoilers for the HP series, mentions of death, and dumbledore slander. (duh)

🗡—————————————————————🗡

I have read the Harry Potter books around twenty times, along with dozens of fanfictions based off of the series. My friends and family have suffered through hour-long rants on subjects such as Snape being the worst character, racism in the writing, and how characters such as Fleur and Lavender are a projection of Rowling’s own internalized misogyny. (Warning: spoilers for the Harry Potter series below!)

The Harry Potter series by J.K Rowling is arguably one of the most well known book series in modern times. With over 500 million copies sold worldwide, these books have been read by millions of people. The story follows orphaned main character Harry Potter as he learns he is a wizard and has a mortal enemy that he will consequently face every book. Harry begins to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which is presided over by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore was written to represent the Mentor character that is so commonly found in any Hero’s Journey type of story; however I do not believe Dumbledore deserves any praise. I believe that Albus Dumbledore was the true villain of Harry’s story.

Before I dive into the prompt, I would like to first clarify that this is actually not how Rowling had intended for her character to be interpreted. Although she has to be accredited with the fascinating world-building of her series, I don’t like to provide her with any unnecessary praise. Rowling has shown through her social media that she is transphobic, homophobic, anti-Semitic, and racist. Her judgment is incredibly flawed and therefore reflected in her work; Rowling truly believes that Dumbledore should be praised.

In the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, young Harry is sent to live with his non-magical Aunt and Uncle proceeding the murder of his parents. While standing on the end of the street and conversing with Professor McGonagall, Dumbledore says, “It’s the best place for him— His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he’s older. I’ve written them a letter.” (pg 14.) The Dursley’s were incredibly neglectful towards Harry, border lining on the edge of abuse. Harry often went days without meals and spent weeks locked inside the cupboard under the stairs. In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, book number six, Dumbledore finally explains why he allowed a child to grow up in such horrible conditions. Since Lily Potter sacrificed herself to protect Harry, that protection would continue as long as he spent at least one day a year with her blood relatives. Dumbledore could have easily found a magical family to take Harry in, and have the boy visit his aunt and uncle once a year. It was completely unnecessary for him to be raised by them, yet Dumbledore simply did not care.

Throughout the series, Dumbledore manipulated nearly everyone around him in a variety of ways. One example of this was his relationship with Rubeus Hagrid. In the year 1945, the Chamber of Secrets was opened by Tom Riddle, (young Voldemort.) During a flashback scene, a suspicious Dumbledore has a conversation with Tom Riddle and asks, “Is there anything that you wish to tell me?” (pg. 245) regarding the Chamber. Dumbledore already knew that Riddle was the one to open in, yet he stood aside and did nothing when Hagrid was later blamed. Once Dumbledore was appointed as Headmaster of Hogwarts, he allowed Hagrid to become a gamekeeper for the school. Poor Hagrid views Dumbledore as his savior, which the old man uses to his advantage. Dumbledore was constantly having Hagrid risk his life and freedom by running errands for him. On page 59 of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Hagrid performs magic after Uncle Vernon insults Dumbledore. After his expulsion from Hogwarts, Hagrid was banned from doing magic. He is so blindly devoted to Dumbledore that he is willing to break laws to “defend his honor.” When the Chamber of Secrets is opened again in book two, Dumbledore stands aside and allows Hagrid to be taken to Azkaban, the wizard prison, even though he knows Hagrid could not have opened the Chamber.

Dumbledore is consistently described as a great and powerful wizard. Readers are meant to believe that there is nothing the man can not do. It is true that Dumbledore was extremely talented. We know this because of his part in defeating Grindelwald in the 1940’s, the various awards given to him by the Ministry, and him being appointed Headmaster of the school. Yet Dumbledore did very little to help defeat Voldemort, instead opting to use two generations of child soldiers. The Order of the Phoenix was an organization that he started in the 1970’s, which was made up of mostly 18-20 year old's that were fresh out of Hogwarts, Harry’s parents included. During the May 2nd 1998 Battle of Hogwarts, the majority of the fighters were teenagers. And where was Dumbledore? Well, he was conveniently dead by then, after plotting with Snape in the previous book to have him be “murdered.” Dumbledore was selfish and careless when he essentially raised Harry to be a sacrificial lamb, knowing that he was Voldemort’s 7th horcrux all along.

“Help will always be given at Hogwarts, Harry, to those who ask for it.” Dumbledore loves to emphasize how Hogwarts can essentially be a home and family for those who do not have one. That is, if they are in Gryffindor. Although Rowling paints members of Slytherin house to all be evil and conniving, that is not at all true. (Not that Rowling considers Snape to be the only redeemable Slytherin, which I completely disagree with.) Horace Slughorn and Regulus Black are examples of Slytherin characters who bravely fought against evil in their own special ways. In Regulus’ case, he sacrificed his life to further hide one of Voldemort’s horcruxes. Slughorn was able to put past his sense of pride and divulge vital information to Harry, even though it embarrassed him. But Dumbledore believes that being sorted into Slytherin House is like having the world EVIL branded across your forehead. When a young Tom Riddle was sorted into Slytherin, Dumbledore no longer made any attempts to help the boy. Much like Harry, he was a half-blooded orphan who had no idea of his heritage before coming to Hogwarts. Seeing as Harry was a Gryffindor, he was given extra favors and help from Dumbledore that prevented him from becoming evil, which was a very real possibility. Even after his time as a student at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle returned to the castle seeking out a job as a teacher. Dumbledore refused him the job, which would have been an excellent opportunity to keep Riddle in check and prevent him from becoming the monster that is Lord Voldemort. But Dumbledore turned him away, and is therefore responsible for the man he later became.

Although the Harry Potter series is marketed towards elementary school children, I have realized that as you mature, there is so much more that you will take away from the book series. Rowling’s intended themes are one of love, death, and friendship. Looking deeper, you realize that the story is essentially the story of two boys. By the neglect and manipulation of Dumbledore, one became the greatest villain, and the other the greatest hero.

[fanficfeeling]

Lovely Part 3 - Jaskier x Reader

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry to everyone who's been waiting patiently for this part, I had a bunch of major projects pop up all at once and then I got sick, and I wanted to give writing this my full attention! So, finally, here it is! As it stands, this will probably be the last part of this particular story, though that may be subject to change, and I will continue to write for Jaskier and other Witcher characters! I may even be opening up requests very soon, so keep an eye out for that! Thanks to everyone who's supported this as I've rolled it out, it's been a really great welcome back to writing. Here's to more stories to come, and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Y/N worries that she doesn't do enough for Jaskier in return for all he does for her, just in time for Jaskier to decide that he really wants to tell Y/N just how much she means to him.

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Language. Self-doubt? If that needs a warning. Sort of cliche? At least, a sort of played-out scenario that I tried to make my own a little bit!

Tagged: (I decided to carry over the tags from part 2 to this one even though no one asked, just to let you guys know that this is up if you're interested!) @failure-of-the-day @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @blue-hoodies-for-life @athenaisalpha

~~

"Geralt," Jaskier began, tapping his fingers against their table in contemplation, "would you be bothered if I told Y/N that I care for her very much?" He lets out a dreamy sigh at the thought.

Geralt raises an eyebrow as he raises his cup to his mouth, "You haven't done so already?"

"Not... in the sense that I'm meaning now." He thinks back to every hug and compliment he's ever given her, and near kicks himself wishing he'd had the courage after any one of them to tell her that he'd give up most everything in his life if she would kiss him just once.

"Hmmm. Why did you even feel the need to ask me? Your lack of my blessing has never stopped you from pursuing anyone before."

Jaskier thinks on that. "She works with you, and moreover, she respects you. You're important to her, and frankly, to me as well, and I'm serious about this. I wouldn't want this to put a strain on anything for anyone."

Geralt can swear he feels his heart warm at Jaskier's words, but he makes no indication of it. "Do what you must then, I won't stop you. I can tell your intentions are pure, Jaskier."

Jaskier finds himself smiling. His intentions are as pure as they come with Y/N, and maybe in finally telling her that she makes his world brighter just be being near, he can finally repay her for doing so.

~~~

"I'm just worried I don't do anything for him." Y/N speaks aloud as she walks around the horses, readying them for the evening. "Jaskier helps take so much weight off my shoulders and all I do is dump my problems onto him. He deserves better than that."

Y/N hears Roach make a soft noise. "I just wish I could show him that I appreciate everything he does for me! I've never had anyone that put so much effort into making sure I'm okay before, and I just let him without offering anything in return."

She drops heavily onto an overturned bucket after she finishes securing the horses, dropping her head into her hands. Truly, she isn't sure how she would get through some days without knowing Jaskier will be there to grace her with a hug at the end of it. His heartfelt smiles, his impassioned words as he sings, the way he carries himself -- it's all enough to make her feel so overwhelmed she might drop dead and more alive than she ever has all at the same time.

"Jaskier means a lot to me, and I would like him to know that I appreciate him. At this rate we'll never be more than-" She stops herself. No, she thinks, it's not right of me to assume we'll ever be more than anything, never mind what I could do for him.

She looks up at Cinnamon. "No ulterior motive, it's time I give back to him, don't you think?"

Cinnamon steps forward and nudges Y/N's shoulder, gently snorting. "Yeah, okay, I get it, put my money where my mouth is. What could I possibly do for him, though? What's something that would speak to him, something on his page that I could use to honestly tell him-" She springs to her feet, abruptly.

"He's a bard, bards deal in poetry! That might be perfect!" She goes running, only slowly briefly to yell behind her, "Thanks for the encouragement, you two!"

~~~

Jaskier can hardly take his eyes off of Y/N. On a normal day, he's talking Geralt's ear off about anything under the sun as they sit and drink, but today, he just stares at her and wishes she was sitting next to him. They had invited her down to grab a drink with them, but she had declined joining them in favor of sitting at the bar and writing something on piece of paper furiously. "A letter to a family I once helped, to check up on them," she had said.

He had planned to tell her that he loves her tonight. To ask her to come with him, and he would take her to this gorgeous little spot he found by a river as the moon shone down on them, and he would sing to her - but it looks like that won't be happening now.

He wonders about the letter that she's writing; she said it was to a family that she helped, but she very rarely wrote letters to check up on people. Even when she had, it had never taken her this long, or taken so much of her attention. She is adorable when she's concentrated.

He watches her toil away, writing things down, stopping, thinking, scratching them out. She wrings her hands nervously every once and a while. She looks like she's trying to pour her soul into something, and Jaskier decides then and there it can't be a letter. At least not to a previous client. To a friend, maybe? A family member? A chiseled, far-away lover? Oh, god, it can't wait anymore.

He stands, nearly knocking over the table, and he hears Geralt grunt in protest. "Jaskier, what the fuck?"

"I can't loose her to a chiseled, far-away lover!" He asserts, much too loudly for the space he's in as he sprints in her direction.

Y/N thinks she hears Jaskier speaking, so she tears her attention from her work in progress and turns to look in the direction of his table, only to find him standing almost directly in front of her.

She quickly does her best to cover her mess of paper before he can see, and ends up attempting to shove into into one of her pockets "Jask! What's going on?"

"I'm very sorry to be rude, but I need you to come with me!"

"What? Why?"

"Because your passion concerns me, and I really, really need to tell you something!"

Y/N thinks briefly to ask, my what?, but Jaskier is already in the process of taking her hand and dragging her away.

~~~

When Y/N finds Jaskier dragging her through the woods, she can't help but ask, "Where are you taking me, Jaskier?"

Jaskier is slightly frantic as he responds, "You'll see, I just found this place, and I thought it would be perfect when I told you, and I- please, just trust me."

"I do."

When he drags her into this little clearing by a stream, she starts to see what he meant. The rising moon casts light through the tree branches that reflect off the stream, and the light lapping of the water offers a calm atmosphere, and while Y/N begins to worry about whatever Jaskier has to say if he wished to bring her to such a calming space, she admits it has the desired affect.

Jaskier turns Y/N to face him, and she's sure she's never seen him more nervous. "I'm sorry, this is just... important, and you seemed so focused on what you were doing and I was terrified of whatever you could be so passionate about because I didn't want it to steal you away-" He stops himself.

"What I mean to say is, I really wanted to take you here because I wanted to do something for you. Your... compassion, your humor, your presence, lights up my life and I need you to know that. I don't want you to ever think that I don't care about you because I don't think I care about anyone more. You deserve the world, and I need to know that you understand what I'm trying to say."

At first he thinks his words have the desired affect when he sees tears welling up in her eyes and a disbelieving look on her face, and he lets his heart fill with hope that she knows.

But then, she throws her arms up into the air and screams as she turns away from him, and the hope shatters. Had he ruined it? Did she actually have a secret lover and he just ruined their friendship by saying this to her? Did she just not care for him this way? Did she just not care for him at all?

Y/N can't stop the guilt-ridden tears. "You wanted to do something for me? You already do everything for me! You always put in all this effort for me and act like I deserve it when I do nothing for you! You're the most thoughtful man I've ever met and I can't even try to do one nice thing for you without you beating me to it! I just-" She lets out another scream.

Jaskier seems frozen, like he doesn't even know what to say. "You think you don't do anything for me?"

Y/N laughs, in the process of pulling that piece of paper out of her pocket, looking down at it dejectedly, "When have I ever done half as much for you as you have for me? That's why I tried writing this, but I can't even try to tell you anything nice without you getting to it first. You're insufferably wonderful, you know that?"

All he does is reach for the paper, gently, and, terrified, she hands it over.

He can hardly believe his eyes as he looks at the mess on the page, all the scribbles and crossed out words, but there, in the middle, a line of thought:

Every time you speak, my heart soars, and all my troubles seem to disappear from my mind

From the moment I met you, I could hardly believe that you were so real, and so kind

I looked into your eyes when you got close and lost myself in a sea of blue

I'm trying to search for a way to say, I love

"I know none of it's good, you make it look far easier than it is, but I wanted to-" And it's all she can do to keep herself from squealing as her bard pulls her into his arms and holds her tightly than she ever thought possible, laughing exuberantly.

He pulls away just far enough to gaze at her face in awe, "It's lovely! All I ever did was to try to repay you for making me inexplicably happy just by being around, and I wanted to say the same thing to you, that I-" He stops himself and looks at her once more for a moment. He's in just as much awe of her now as he was when he saw her sitting across from him the first time he met her.

He moves his hand to wipe away excess tears staining her cheeks, which are slowing now with her growing hope, and before he can stop himself, he's kissing her.

For one brief moment, everything stops. It seems like not a sound is made, not a thought occurs in either of them, and time stands still, but then all at once their minds come to life in a flurry.

Panting, they pull away, and smiling like idiots, they look into each others eyes once more.

"Y/N, don't ever feel obligated to go out of your way to do things for me. I think just offering me your love would be enough to keep me a happy man for the rest of my life."

Y/N's tears slowly start again, out of joy, this time, and she says, "Then all I could ever ask for is yours in return."

Maybe I was right that first night, when I thought I'd found the perfect man. Yeah, I think I'm going to be alright with him around.

[aolmer]

This is a short story about a person who is in a mental struggle with betrayal of friendship. It is up for how you want to interpret it. It is meant to express complex emotions that I think many people have but never claim or admit. I hope that by reading this it makes you think. I apologize for the weird format spacing but I'm not retyping all that on my phone and for whatever reason it won't let me put the paragraphs where they should be I did try. This is my first post and first short story I have ever wrote. Ok let's give it a go!!!

The Story's Tale

How funny it is, yet so heartbreaking to know. I wish I knew the whole story in advance. I did so very well, I tried, but I ignored it. My perception had blinded me; lost, I was wholly withdrawn and vulnerable, forever ignorant to its separate plot and focused solely on me.

My story tells a new but old, familiar tale. My own accord, it's always been just about me. I'm living each day by dawn and dusk, somehow always failing to see the plot in it all. I think you see it all so clearly - and you always have, silently blending in the shadows - but everything is just a blur to me. The vision of a perfect ending that I've longed for, my reflection in the mirror has since turned black.

Is this why you are so familiar to me? How did I not see it? Why was I so

foolish over who you are? How could I ever be anything that would show you something different? You saw it all along, so why did my novel bring you to read past chapter 1? You followed others when you knew the truth and saw the light; I could offer you nothing, yet you still remained by my side. I guess our curiosity will never end and we always have to know, but knowledge is half the battle when you can't answer things about yourself. Did you find your answer in the footprints of another’s steps? You had to know, silently standing in the distance, watching my mistakes unfold as I fell. You were the perfect ending, but you doubted it too long to truly see it.

Finding that sense of self-worth is a battle we all fight every day. You knew where it all went wrong, but at least now you can hum that old hymn your grandpa would sing every morning – the one that assured you that you were home, safe, and loved. A great feeling to experience once again, one you had

felt was gone forever. It's a good feeling to finally be where you belong; it brings a real smile to my face, the type I haven't had in a long while. A smile that I don't have to fake. This is why I call you the perfect ending. You were the answer I never found, as I never asked the right questions to end up where you are now. I can always tell a story - and some I'm more familiar with than my own - but like most, these tales still have a few pages missing. I know the book itself is at its most crucial part, just reaching its peak for that big moment, yet I still somehow miss it all.

Nevertheless, this moment of anger between us invariably buries itself into my peripatetic subconsciousness as an involuntary vicissitude that we carve our days around – which, in turn, unwillingly standardizes our lives as if we were meant to anticipate this occurrence and oblige. You saw it coming all along. Your vision couldn't be any clearer and I was too far away for my story to be heard the way it was meant.

My story tells itself with my time and pain, possessing me and portraying itself as a living entity, out on its own, ready to play the role of my life. Knowing all of my passions, all of my ambitions, and all of my wisdom, just to be used against me and viciously taken in haste, with no remorse or place for reconcile.

Still, the void in my heart, the purest form of malice cutting through flesh and straight to bone. I reach to take it all back with the very scourge of the story I never told. The things I've buried far too deeply that even it could never grasp. The words and agony were bitter and cursed, stabbing the heart like a thousand daggers with a twist, ensuring my pain was felt.

I will never know if I succeeded; I had retreated from the battle with myself and saw that I had lost myself for such a long time. I'm now so far beyond the years of sorrow and the attenuation of my soul. I've drowned myself in tears of contrition and reconciled myself to a sleepless reverie that means, even now on the

very still and tranquil new moon nights that tell this story so well, I lie awake.

All I wanted was for someone to care. I blamed anyone but myself for my mistakes. No mind so perfect could be this flawed. Now, somehow, I'm expected to know the stories I've never had the chance to hear coming from the people standing before me today, claiming they were told from long before. I could finally see the truth in you clearly, your value as a person; I see that I bid far too low. Why couldn't I see that I could have been a better friend and listened to you? You were the only one that never led me wrong, yet I still made it about me. I displayed a role of a teacher to a student, when in fact it was I who was being taught. I never meant for it to be that way and my intentions were pure of heart - in my head. It all felt right, but even when you think you’ve got it all figured out, life will put you in your place and show you just how wrong you are.

The years pass by and I see many people come and go. This repeating

cycle of memories, old and new, is the last honest, profound thought I had before losing myself within the empty strands of time itself.

I am so lost in my dreams as time moves forward. This very moment takes its shape as if that cycle never began. The cycle you created to help me get where I need to be, but I was too lost in my own creation and failing to put faith in anything but me. I have no reason to complain now at being completely alone; I had pushed them away, one by one. You were always there and I was selfish, so I thank you now too late, my dearest friend.

We stand now eye to eye, inhale to exhale, trading the same old stories we thought we knew so well - when, in fact, we never knew any of them at all. I should have listened closer. It was never about me. I wanted to be different and I was sure in thought, as if it was calculated precisely. I should have followed when you called, but instead I tried to lead, blinded by my

arrogance. With a last look upon each other, our eyes stared deeply into the very core of our souls.

The stories are way too real and yet so vastly different between us. We see that our blessings, once so virtuous, are now concealed in jagged and shattered glass, consumed with detest. The anticipation of a joyous ending has long departed, hence I blindly wrote my name into the ending with every letter nearly perfect, as if it were an oil painting. The story’s end had now laid its path before me. The one I should have taken was the one you showed me, so now this path I walk alone.

Our vastly different tales in this cycle shared the very same fate - yet different from another’s eyes, as if it was only my blood that shed. We both took our departing breath and this became a story in itself, as we all fear facing death. The blink of an eye; the only thing we ever acknowledged as real in our lives lasted only a matter of minutes. I had missed my only chance. It was then, at

last, that our stories finally read the same. Peacefully, we drifted into an endless sea of thought, with nowhere to be and our minds laid to rest. Even that perfect ending truly wasn't as you thought it would be. A place we always end up as every road we take leads to the same place. A place where the words never mattered in the stories and our tales were left untold. These stories can't be put into words – we can’t tell the tale we don’t know how to read and explain.

The scream of a thousand words is all that we hear and as we speak, our utterance is breathless, drowned out in the sound of it all. It is pointless to speak at all, as those words were never said with your wasted breath. You were silent long before, just playing with the words you had left unsaid. Perhaps those words would have made a difference now. You always knew when it served to speak, a skill I should now learn. That’s why everyone listens when you do - of course, everyone but me. It pains me and

sorry can't be said, so it just becomes another word added to the thousand-word scream I hear every day in my head. I had missed it all and you showed me where to go, but the words you chose to speak left me to drown alone.

The novel slowly closes as it flips through the last few pages, left blank; as I drift into an eternal slumber, where I don't have to stay awake. Now is the moment I've sought so long, drifting apart from within as the epilogue gives closure. We know, at last, that the book was read.

It's such a shame I was too late. The silence is now so loud it's deafening. I wish for a moment where the thousand words would scream, as this silence has stripped away the last part of what I knew as me. At last we could see it as one. The first time to open my eyes - and perhaps the last, but at least we can see it honestly, one time, for all that it is. We can hear the most beautiful song ever written as the sounds of the silence breaks and

dissipates, returning the thousand word screams we could hear in our head. You now have joined me as we fade away into a void of black.

From my perspective, at least once, we may both see the light in all its glory. That feeling, the release, the peaceful hymns we heard as children that woke us every day - that we hated so much. Now those songs lead our way as the black fades away. A wonderful life we have yet to create, as we all missed something this crucial along the way. It was far from our time, but can't you see that you need me as much as I need you? We have to see the same light, even when it's different, as no one can see very well in the dark.

Being alive is the only thing that I'll never understand, but it feels so good to be back home. I haven’t seen that smile from you, my friend, for forever and a day. Can we take a walk together, one last time, but you lead the way this time? It's not a surprise for me to see you shake your head to answer no. We begin to walk along side by side. I had almost missed it all again and can't ever seem to get

it right. Now I see that you continue to shake your head to answer no, still never saying words unless necessary. I fall silent as well and continue to walk by your side, thinking about the days that lie ahead and all the life I had left to live. It feels good to walk by my friend once again.

Where does this feeling come from? But maybe it’s only a moment we had forgotten. Is this why you are so famiiar to me? What led you to read past chapter one with me? I finally knew the answer to the questions where it all began - and when it occurred, I could finally see that it's not hard to understand. I had it right all along, but I never had the pen to write it down. I focused on the things that made life hard, then on these moments when I would be sure to have a pen to write it down. As I take this walk with my friend, the days are all familiar; the good and the bad create the same old stories our parents read before us. You had to compromise and learn as

well, taking the lead when your bell rang and speaking more so I never got left behind. It was never hard to understand, but we had both missed so much. You can't live life thinking that your story is something new - that was my biggest flaw. The drowning of my being shy at your helping hand.

Everyone's story is a chapter in a book, but even when that story is different, it still reads and ends the same way. Without sharing our stories, the book can never be read. The story to know is the easiest one to get and our life writes it down as we go, adding another chapter to its pages. Now we make the perfect beginning and end.

I walk now with my friend by my side, a moment to be cherished. It's good to know that, regardless of what happens, no one’s story is different - it all begins and ends the same. The best stories always come from those that are heard and those we create. It truly is a great day to hear your voice again, to hear our voices together at

last. We both know where the road leads now, so which direction shall we go? Like a river we flowed, letting our will guide where we went as we walked along the way, sharing all of the stories we had left unsaid from the beginning to the end of all our days. That familiar feeling, the wonderul feeling you get at the start of a new chaper. We have read this once before, my friend, and it’s a great day to start again. The same old stories we would always tell, but we never wrote in ink.

The End

@givethispromptatry

[phoenix-downer]

Of Which Reason Knows Nothing Chapter 1

I’m happy to post the first part of the project @chibiranmaruchan and I collaborated on! They drew the art, and I wrote the fic. Working with them was a lot of fun, and I’m really happy with what we’ve created. The first chapter I’m posting today, and the second I will post next Friday. I will also be posting this story to FFN and AO3 if those are your preferred reading spot(s).

Length: ~2100 words

Summary: Kairi may have lost someone important, but she isn’t alone, and she isn’t without hope. And her mysterious dreams just might have a clue as to Sora’s whereabouts…

Characters: Kairi, Sora’s Mother, Riku

Additional Info: Implied Kairi/Sora, Riku and Kairi friendship. Post-Kingdom Hearts III. Referenced Character Death. Guilt, Grief/Grieving, Angst, Comfort, Dreams, Friendship.

Enjoy!

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Facing Sora’s mother was one of the hardest things Kairi had ever done.

Knocking on the door to Sora’s house had required all of her courage as it was. The cheerful welcome sign hanging on it, with its blue letters against a sunny yellow background, was downright mocking. What could she even say? She wasn’t welcome here. It was her fault Sora was gone; her fault he—

“Kairi?”

She couldn’t even look his mother in the eye. Her throat was dry and all of her carefully planned words fled her mind.

All that came out was, “I’m sorry.” Not that any apology could ever make up for what had happened, for the loss of someone so dear to them both.

“Sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault.”

Her eyes snapped to his mother’s. They were just like his, blue as the sky, only clouded with grief. Seeing them was like a punch in the stomach.

��It was,” Kairi said. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

His mother shook her head. “No. Riku told me what happened. It’s because of you that he even lived.”

Kairi had to choke back a sob at that, and his mother just wrapped her arms around her. She didn’t resist. She didn’t have the energy to anymore.

“I miss him so much,” she said as the tears started to stream down her cheeks anyway.

“I do too.”

His mother invited her in after that, for tea and cookies. It actually helped a little, being near things that reminded her of him. Like a part of his soul still lingered on. It helped to tell stories about him, too. To listen to his mother’s stories.

“When he came home the night before you two and Riku set off,” she said, stirring the sugar and milk into her tea, “I knew something special had happened.”

Kairi perked up. “Oh?”

“He couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t focus on anything, especially not his dinner. Just had this big dreamy grin on his face with a faraway look in his eyes as he spilled his rice all over his lap. I figured it had something to do with you.”

Kairi smiled a little. “It did.” She thought of how he’d looked at her after they’d shared the paopu fruit and felt all warm inside. “He has such a beautiful smile.”

“That he does.”

They sipped their tea and nibbled on their cookies and kept sharing stories about him. But the shadows outside were growing long now, and Kairi needed to get home for dinner soon.

“Before you go,” his mother said, “would you like to see his room?”

Kairi’s heart pounded. “Is that… is that okay?”

“Of course. I thought… maybe, if it helps you, you can look at his things.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

One by one her feet took her up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last, till the door to his bedroom was right in front of her.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe it would be better to—

“It’s okay. You can go in.”

His room hadn’t really changed all that much since she’d last been here. The floor was still cluttered with stuff, old toys and clothes and knick-knacks, as he hadn’t been home long between his return and his Mark of Mastery exam. But despite that, it was well dusted, and if she didn’t know any better, she would expect him to come bursting through the door any second now.

One of his hoodies was strewn across his bed, the red and black one, and she couldn’t help herself. She walked over and picked it up, then hesitated and looked back towards his mother for permission.

“Would it be okay… if I borrowed this, for now?”

“Of course. He’d want you to have it.”

Kairi nodded and pulled it over her head. It still smelled like him, and wearing it felt like he was giving her a hug.

His mother gave her an understanding look. “I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Kairi couldn’t bring herself to sit on his bed, but she did look around his room a little. Resting on his bedside table was a letter – her letter. She picked it up, mouthing the words as she read along. She remembered how her hand had flown across the paper, the words spilling out of her heart as her memories of him had returned. 

“Starts with an ‘S,’” she murmured as the page in front of her blurred. His expression of pure joy as he ran through the water popped into her head. Would he still have smiled if he knew the fate that awaited him? That only a few months later, he’d be dead because of her?

She set the letter back down. In their final moments together, he’d smiled much like he’d smiled that day, and she had to wipe her eyes. Even the happy memories were bittersweet now. But something told her he wouldn’t want her to be sad, and so she did her best to remember the good things. 

After returning home, dinner went by in a blur. Her appetite still hadn’t recovered, and she could only pick at the delicious food her mother had made, stir fry with pineapples and paopu fruit. The paopu fruit reminded her of Sora, of the cave drawing, of the special moment they’d shared as they’d fed each other the fruit. Not even meals were safe from her memories.

Going to bed was a struggle, too. When she wasn’t lying awake for hours on end, thinking about what had happened, she was having nightmares about it instead. A sharp pain in her back as Xehanort struck the killing blow, over and over again. Sora slipping right through her fingers and falling into the abyss. No matter what he did, no matter what she did, they could never reach each other. She always woke up, alone, with tears streaking her cheeks.

But with Sora’s hoodie on, things felt a little better. She felt a little closer to him. She sent Riku a quick text, then Xion and Naminé, before putting her Gummiphone back on the bedside table. 

Maybe tonight she’d finally be able to sleep.

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Neon lights, flashing colors. An enormous city with skyscrapers pointing towards the moon, trying to reach the heavens but getting pulled back down to earth. Water on the ground in puddles as raindrops splashed into them, disturbing the surface of the water, reflecting the surroundings like a mirror. 

Kairi had never seen this place before. It wasn’t The World That Never Was – the buildings didn’t match. This was somewhere new, somewhere different. 

White paint on the ground. Lots of lines running across the street. Big billboards running dozens of different ads at the same time. Cars with bright lights, too bright in the dark. The sky a strange shade of purple with ominous black clouds. A big white tower with the numbers 104 in neon red letters. 

She glanced at one of the puddles nearby. A face with blue eyes and spiky brown hair stared back. 

Her eyes flew open. “Sora?”

But the dream was over already. What was that place? A big city… a building with the numbers 104… and Sora, somehow. In some place she’d never been before.

Could it be—

No. It was better not to hope. Better not to get her hopes up. And yet… all of her past dreams about him had just been repeating the same things over and over again. This was new. 

She grabbed her Gummiphone and made as many notes as possible so she wouldn’t forget her dream, then rolled over and went back to sleep.

When she woke up the next morning, she opened her phone to see what it said:

104 Building

Puddles

Sora

Really? That was really all she had written? Curse her sleepy brain for not being thorough. Sighing, she pulled up her chat with Riku. Time to arrange a meeting with him.

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As the mayor’s daughter, Kairi’s house was up on a hill a little ways away from everyone else’s houses. To reach the street where Riku’s house was, she hopped on her bike. The wind whistled through her ears as she descended the hill, reminding her of all the times she’d raced down this very hill with Sora and Riku. The roads on Destiny Islands were mostly dirt ones, and it was quite the bumpy ride.

Riku’s house looked much like the other houses on Destiny Islands did, but it was nonetheless charming, with its red brick roof and cute shuttered windows. As she approached and parked her bike (no need to worry about locks, no one really stole stuff from each other around here), she noticed smoke was coming out of the chimney. Maybe his mother was cooking something delicious for breakfast.

After a quick knock on the door, Riku invited her in. She removed her shoes and arranged them neatly, then stepped up into the house. 

“Sorry for intruding!” she called in the customary way. No one actually thought you were intruding when you visited, but it was the height of bad manners not to say the little phrase. 

“Welcome to our home,” his mother called back from the kitchen. After exchanging pleasantries, Kairi gave his mother a thank you gift for allowing her to visit, macarons in a nice box with a red bow from the bakery. 

Riku led her into the living room after that, and they took a seat on the couch. He poured them both some green tea, then settled back and said, “So, you said there was something you wanted to talk about?”

“Riku, do you know what the numbers 104 mean?”

He frowned. “104?”

“Yes. I saw them in a dream.”

She explained as much of the dream as she could remember – the building with 104 and the puddle with Sora’s reflection in it. The other details were hazy, but she remembered thinking she hadn’t been there before, and she told Riku as much.

“So, a place you don’t know. These weird numbers. And Sora. You think it might be a clue as to where he is right now?”

She nodded. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, But I thought… maybe… I was just grasping at straws.”

“Because you want to see him again.”

She didn’t say anything. Riku was right on the munny, as always. 

“Trust me, I know the feeling,” he said with a sigh. “I keep hoping and then wondering if it’s just wishful thinking. But this, this sounds like an actual lead.”

“What makes you think that?”

She had to hear it from someone else. She couldn’t trust her own heart to be honest with her anymore.

“Well, for one, you said it’s somewhere you’ve never been before. Your nightmares were always places you’ve already been, right?”

She nodded.

“And you saw that building with a very specific number. Why would you remember a detail like that?”

“Well… the four at the end stuck with me.”

While residents of Radiant Garden considered the number thirteen unlucky, four was the number of death on Destiny Islands. The hospital didn’t have a fourth floor. The numbering went from three on the third floor to five on what should’ve been the fourth floor. The school didn’t have a fourth floor either. So to see it on a building like that when she knew Sora was—

“You think you saw him in the afterlife, don’t you?” Riku said.

She nodded again. “It’s the only explanation I can think of. But how is that even possible? I thought that once you’re dead, that’s it. You cross over whatever barrier there is between the Realm of the Living and the Realm of the Dead. No more contact with the people you’ve left behind.”

He shrugged. “If our journeys have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a lot I don’t know about how reality works. But one thing I do know is that if anything can last beyond death, it’s the bond you and Sora share.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Why was she always on the verge of crying now?

Riku awkwardly patted her head. He was trying, he was really trying, and that made her cry even harder.

“Hey, we’ll figure something out,” he said. “You and Sora are both too stubborn to let each other go. And luckily for you both, I’m too stubborn to let either of you go.”

She laughed through her tears at that. Sora might be gone, but at least she still had Riku. At least she still had the rest of her friends. Together, they’d find a way to bring Sora back.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Check back next week for Chapter 2!

Quick edit: You can see the art @chibiranmaruchan made here! 

[takemedancingmaine]

Where I Belong

The weather had finally shifted to spring.

Although, if we’re honest, there’s not a real spring in Chicago. Only winter and then false hope then more winter and then, somehow overnight, summer. 

It was sticky and the air was heavy. You could feel it on your skin the moment you stepped outside. Paired with some of the bluest skies and the clear water of Lake Michigan, one could understand the allure of Chicago, finally making sense of why people brave the winters and the grey skies. Every year around this time, I fell in love with the city all over again, fell in love with the vibe of spring baseball games and a beer on my front porch with a good book in my lap. I fell in love with beach days and rooftop day parties and going to the zoo for a walk around just because. 

The trees along Lakeshore were green and full when I ran past them in the mornings, the birds were singing loud over the traffic, and kids were playing with chalk on the sidewalk in front of their houses.

It wasn't like I needed a reminder of all the reasons I loved Chicago, because I just did, but the month of May brought the reminders out for me anyway. I was enamored by the juxtaposition of the busy city behind me and the vast, empty expanse of blue water in front, kicking at the wall under my heels as I dangled my legs over the edge.

I was sitting on a concrete barrier on the edge of the Lake that separated two beaches in Bryn Mawr and writing in my journal. 

It was something I was doing more and more since starting therapy all those months ago. I was not a writer by any means, nor was I eloquent, but I never felt pressure to write well or to even make sense of my thoughts as they left my mind and etched themselves into words on the pages. I simply felt a pull to get the thoughts down so that they weren't festering inside of me. It was a relief I felt that was similar to running. It was a solitary activity where I was alone with myself and able to attempt to understand myself better.

Three and a half months since my secret came to light, since I faced it out in the open and gave it a name and came to terms with the fact that I had to accept it and push forward in a healthy way. Last week, Brian had ‘graduated’ us all from his self-defense class and was gearing up to start anew with another fresh batch of students.

He was excited to start all over again in the fall, and I was excited to have not only completed his class but to have gained more than just knowledge but two friendships as a result of pushing myself through it. Tala and Brian were instrumental in my healing process, and I couldn't be happier with them being a part of my life. They also folded in seamlessly with the rest of the group. Between Tala’s wit and Brian’s charisma, they were always a welcome addition whenever they could join us in our activities.  

There was just one thing about those activities that I had yet to rectify.

I also knew it had to be me, that I had to make the move to solve it. It took me a while to come to terms with this, longer than it had taken me to come to terms with everything else. It was countless hours talking to Louis and Cleo. I even spent a lot of time with Liam and asked his opinions. His advice had been incredibly simple: do what you feel like you’re ready to do, and even if you don’t feel ready, take that step anyway: test yourself.

Ordinarily, I would’ve scoffed at his idea, but Tala said something similar when I went to her with the issue as well. She was the one who, despite what her brother had told her, approved of my severing ties with Niall in the first place. She was the one who said it was better for me. Recently though, she was starting to push me more and more. The conversation we’d had last weekend had centered around the fact that I would probably never feel ready to make this move, but going off of everything else I’d done and all the progress I’d made, I was ready.

I still wasn’t sure, but that was the thing. Emotions are like water. They're impossible to compress. So once the thought was there, I couldn't push it back down. I had to follow through.

I think it was like Tala had said, that I might never be sure. I thought about how rarely sure we are in life and it made me realize just how much we as humans gamble and hope for the best, blowing on the dice for luck before we throw them down. So what if I still wasn't sure? I couldn't remember a time when I was sure. Life was about putting all the pieces together and hoping they made a puzzle, but if not it was okay, there was always a new path, a new puzzle to piece together waiting around each bend.

My journal entry was reflecting this sentiment as I scribbled in it in all caps. I noticed that when I wrote now, my penmanship was all capitals, blockish and somehow a little bit flowy. It was how I’d written notes and essays when I was in high school but had steered away from when I was trying to take notes at a much quicker pace in college. I had told Dr. Winters a few weeks ago that maybe it was because it was more deliberate, slower and more methodical to write in all capital letters. I wasn’t sure yet why or if it meant anything specific–it could always be as simple as I like the aesthetic more–but it was something to think about anyway.

“Hey,” a voice called me from my reverie. I’d been absorbed in writing, absorbed in listening to the sound of the water below me, entranced by the sunshine beating down on me. I slipped a page marker into the journal and closed it, setting it and the pen beside me before looking up. 

It was the hat on his head that made me smile. 

“Hi,” I said, patting the ground beside me, signaling for him to sit.

He did. He maneuvered himself down and leaned back on his hands, his head falling back as he looked up at the sky, his eyes closed.

I took that moment to look him over. He was tan, his skin practically glowing in the sunshine, and his facial hair was fuller. It suited him. I couldn’t tell what his hair was doing, but as he took a deep breath and lowered his head back down and opened his eyes, I noted that the easiness he’d always carried about him was still present. I’d worried that I might’ve stripped that from him, but from the looks of it, I hadn’t.

He turned his head toward me and I was struck by the blue of his eyes. Even with the blue water below me, the blue sky above me, and the blue hat situated on top of his head, his eyes were still the most vibrant, the most riveting of all the options. There was a depth to them that even the most renowned artists would struggle to capture. I could see them clearly even in the shade of his ball cap.

For months I’d thought that perhaps seeing those eyes again would cripple me, tear me down brick-by-brick until I was an amorphous blob on the ground, unable to function back at square one. Yet here I was, staring into those eyes and holding my own, maintaining myself. I had thought that I’d see something in those eyes that might indicate pain or regret. Instead, I saw curiosity and respect. I’d spent a few months dealing with both of those qualities in other people’s gazes to know what they were, and seeing them there, on him, felt natural. As if this was how it was supposed to be.

“You look tan,” I said. 

He nodded and looked out ahead of us toward the horizon. “Yeah, I um. I went on that trip to South Africa a few weeks ago with Greg. It was a place our dad had always wanted to go, so we figured we’d get down there and see what he’d been going on and on about for so long.” 

“How was it?”

“It was unbelievable,” he said. When he said that, I saw that smile, his smile, slip onto his face and watched as his features lit up. I could feel my own features shift into a smile as a response to his, the reaction involuntary, but I was unable to do anything but react to his contagious good vibe. “We did a great white shark thing, watched them breach from a boat and even went down in a tank to watch them from below. It was the scariest, coolest thing I’ve ever done by far. I don't know if I'll ever be able to top it, but I would like to try.” 

He was happy. 

I was struck by that when he looked at me full on again. He was happy and so was I.

We fell into silence. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable. There was so much to be said between us so much that needed to be discussed and sorted through, but somehow we both understood that we were under no pressure and that added a level of comfort to the situation.

He spoke first.

“You look lighter… somehow. Calmer,” he said, glancing at me, appraising, and then shifted his gaze back out to the lake.

“I feel lighter,” I said after a moment. Watching him, and then following his gaze to the horizon. He didn't interrupt me when I paused to gather my thoughts, and I appreciated his patience, and appreciated that even after all these months he still believed I deserved the time to get it right. “Therapy has helped quite a bit. As has telling everyone.”

“Louis mentioned to me that you told everyone, including your family,” he said. I watched him from the corner of my eye. “I was really proud of you for that. It must've taken a lot of strength.”

I let out a breathless chuckle. “The family’s response was something, to be sure. And it's funny, but I knew how our friends would react. I just didn't let myself believe that they would be so supportive, that it wouldn't make them look at me in pity. I knew that they wouldn't, but taking that leap of faith is still scary sometimes.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, the timber of his voice rattling my bones. “They're some pretty remarkable people, our friends.”

“If we're calling lunacy ‘remarkable’ nowadays, then sure.” He laughed out loud at my words and I felt it in my toes, his spirit floating lightly. His energy lifted me through this process. If it was anytime else, I couldn't have been able to do this, to tell them.

“I don't expect you to forgive me,” I said, my voice quiet suddenly. “I know I didn't exactly go about, well, anything the right way at first. But I'm trying now and I wanted you to know that I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to apol-”

“I do,” I interrupted him. He cut his gaze to me quickly, the confusion clear within it. “I do,” I repeated with a nod. “I hurt you. I know I hurt you. Regardless of why or the outcome, I still did that. And for that, I'm sorry.”

“I accept,” he said back quietly, his eyes still watching me.

I stayed silent for a long while, looking out over the water, but I knew he was watching me, and could feel his eyes on me. It must've been a handful of minutes later before I spoke again.

“I don't have my nightmare anymore.” As much as I wanted to keep looking at the water I desperately wanted to see his face when he processed that news. So, I turned and watched.

“You what?” His mouth was wide, his eyes searching my face and moving at a quick pace, his voice was nothing but a whisper of words on an exhale of breath leaving him in a gust.

“Since early March,” I said, nodding. “Two and a half months ago.”

“That's great, Ruby,” he said softly and looked away again. I watched as he took his Cubs hat off and ran a hand through his hair before settling his hat back down. His hair was wavy and long on top, but shorter onthe sides. It was my favorite style on him.

“It's been a relief,” I admitted. He nodded at my words.

“I'm sure Moggy appreciates not being woken up in the middle of the night, too,” he said, a smile pulling on his features, knowing that the worst was behind us.

“Oh she's never been happier,” I smiled back. “I was putting a real damper on her beauty rest.” We giggled quietly and then fell into another bout of comfortable silence, the minutes just passing by as we took in being beside each other again. A couple of kids passed by on skateboards behind us and a man blaring reggae music from a speaker walked by at a leisurely pace, the sound fading as he made it to the beach to our left.

“I was thinking,” I started after it had been silent for a while, “that it's probably time our friends stopped making two sets of plans.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling his gaze down to me and quirking his eyebrows.

“This wasn't nearly as hard as I built it up in my head to be,” I said, letting him know I'd been nervous about seeing him. 

He let out a slow breath and nodded, another smile pulling on his lips. “Yeah, it really hasn't been.” I let him think for a moment, able to see the thoughts whirring behind his eyes. “I think that's fair.”

“You think we can pull it off, being friends?”

“Well,” he drew in a breath and let it out slowly, “we've done being a couple, and we’ve done being nothing to each other, so I think that maybe friends can be a happy medium for us.”

I hoped so.

Sitting there I realized that although I had patched myself up and that I was happy, content with my life and who I was, I had still missed Niall.

I'd missed his contagious laugh and his easygoing energy. I'd missed his quirky bookish quotes that would come out when he was trying to be introspective and I'd missed watching him interact with Louis and the rest of our friends. 

I realized just how easily I could be his friend. I thought about how he would fit in with Tala and Brian and how he'd compliment each of them as well. I thought about our group game nights having good music again because my choices wouldn't be voted down and the Guinness that would be stocked in all of our fridges for just-in-case purposes.

If anything were to happen between us in the future–and I recognized that hypothetical as a long shot because of the trust that would have to be built back up–that was for the future. For right now, I was happy just having him around again.

It was enough for me. It was calm and I felt that ease settling into my belly as I thought about that. I wasn't wary of what was to come or nervous of screwing anything up. It was an easy friendship and there were expectations that went along with being a friend, but they didn't feel impossible to meet or to breathe under.

“Hey,” he said, pulling me again from my reverie with that single word.

I looked over at him.

“This feels good.”

“It does,” I acknowledged. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Thanks for reaching out,” he said.

I took a deep breath and looking out at the lake in front of me, seeing it for what was far from the first time, I felt myself sink into happiness, all of my nervous energy from before leaving me like the waves pulling away from the barrier and all that was coming in was a warmth and a relief that spread through me. 

Looking right, I could see the green grass and trees and the golden beach past them, could see skyscrapers reaching up into the blue beyond above and could see the sun as it travelled its path, steady and constant and not concerning itself with anything but its own power and strength.

The sun knew that it would be cloudy some days, but that never dimmed its shine, it was bright regardless of what was happening around it. I took a deep breath and closing my eyes against the light hoped that I could be like that too, bright and unwavering and strong in the face of life. I finally felt like I was in a place where that wasn't an unreasonable hope.

[haruyuri]

Attack On Titan // Manga Analysis

contains spoilers.

this post is focused mostly on the Marley Arc and Sasha’s death. read at your own risk.

Ah, I said I would do this, here I am.

I believe pretty much all of the Attack On Titan fandom is pissed right now. Whether you are a manga reader or not, I’m sure you’ve come across with the most recent spoilers.

Yes, Sasha Blouse is dead.

We shall start with some background on her, using the anime. She was rather irrelevant during season one, I think we all agree. She was simply the ‘potato girl’, or the girl who spoke in a ridiculously polite way, but, during season two, she gained some focus for her character. Truth is she was meant to die in chapter 40, more or less, when she fought that one titan with the arrows. (Titan that was confirmed (i think) to be Connie’s father.)

She was unharmed. She didn’t have her gear on, but she did save a small child from a titan and fought it with something she was good at, shooting arrows. But though, I think she isn’t given enough credit for this. She had this whole episode for herself and still, she was still ‘potato girl’.

Throughout the whole anime, Sasha is seen as a goofball who has an incredibly high appetite. Sure, she is a rather positive character, so is Connie, but both of them have their own demons as well.

Believe it or not, Sasha was rather important during the Uprising Arc. She was one of the chosen to be part of the new Squad Levi, as long as the other 104th soldiers and she had an important role in protecting Eren and Historia.

After she takes care of Levi’s wounds, she stays on guard all night as the squad is eating and drinking.

She then takes part in the rescuing of Eren and Historia, as they know their whereabouts and, shall we not forget, she saves Connie’s life.

And, later on, it’s Connie’s time to attend to her safety, in the Return to Shingashina Arc. Being hit by the debris upon fighting the Armored Titan, Connie takes her unconscious body to a roof and everyone begins thinking about the Titan Serum. Though, she’s not injured to that point and the debate is then between Armin and Erwin, Levi ending up deciding to give it to Armin.

Even more, as they return to Trost and she finally recovers, she is exhonerated with a damn medal. Sasha is a worthy soldier.

And finally, we get to the shitty Marley Arc. Personally, it has been my least favorite arc so far. Now, having read chapter 105, I feel like I’ve wasted all the time I’ve put into reading this manga. I used to love every bit of it, even with the death and all the angst, I still looked forward to the next chapter. Now, I don’t. Now I’ll think “Ah.. Another chapter. I’ll read it later.” and just go on with it.

Alright, let’s get this Arc straight, shall we.

We had a heck ton of chapters that made us though “Where the fuck is the Survey Corps” since only hobo looking Eren and mentally fucked up Reiner were on the show. Sure, we got to know some stuff about the Marley dudes, but they’re not that interesting.

It seems to me that Eren left to Marley on his own accord, that he probably even disobeyed his superiors orders (That’d be Commander Hange and Captain Levi) and even wrote them a letter.

Both Hange and Levi show their discontent with Eren’s development and behavior. Eren, who used to be Humanity’s Hope is now nothing but a suicidal soldier, who uses himself as bait and causes his comrades to die.

He was, for a long time, talking to Falco, bonding with him so that he could get to Reiner. I’m not sure how I feel about Falco though, because he seems to be a good person and he felt deceived by Eren, because he thought Eren was a good person and he was surely though that the people of Paradis were monsters. 

Falco felt used by Eren and realizes he was lied to. The kid probably has trust issues, who knows.

Despite knowing that his name is Eren Jaeger, he still goes for Kruger. He’s upset, he understood Eren is a bad guy, I guess.

But anyway, Eren masters up to fuck Reiner in the head even more and bam- he goes batshit crazy and turns into a titan. Nothing we haven’t seen before, right?

Well he goes and kills the Thor look alike and ye, look it’s a new titan!!!

You are one creepy fucker, Tybur woman.

And, of course, the rest of Marley had to come, right? We get a better look at Pieck’s cart titan and Zeke’s beast titan as well. Let’s not forget what Levi promised Erwin before he died. He would take down the beast titan.

But, surprise surprise. Zeke is betraying Marley. Or.. You can’t be that surprised, c’mon, he betrayed his own parents.

Here’s how it starts:

Eren seems a bit unamused to me, I don’t know, woops.

On another note, both Levi and Jean talk about ‘time’. That’s another confirmation note to the fact Zeke is actually on Paradis’ side (apparently) and Levi killing him, for now, is an act.

Pieck knows that Zeke just betrayed him, so.. my question is. Why didn’t she do anything about it? She probably just realised that Levi did not kill him, that he acted as if he did. So why did she just carry on battling and didn’t do anything? Hm.. Fishy.

But moving on.

Let’s talk about another character. Gabi Braun. She’s just 12 and also an Eldian and Warrior Candidate. Her goal is to kill Eren Jaeger, who trampled over her home.

So here’s the thing about Gabi. First of all, she’s a brat. Second of all, she has a superiority complex. Third of all, she doesn’t listen to anyone. We all know Falco is more inteligent than Gabi and less impulsive than her.

Don’t talk back, you brat.

But here’s what pisses me off. She made it clear. Eren Jaeger is her target. Sure, she holds a grudge against all Survey Corps members, but mostly, Eren.

So why, why did she have to kill TWO soldiers before she got Eren?

She killed Lobov and, right after, she didn’t even aim. She grabbed the gun and shot. She had no idea if she’d get anyone or not. But she did, she killed Sasha with one shot.

What was the damn  logic? She shot randomly. Did she even know if she’d get someone? As much as she knew, she could’ve shot against a wall. Her aim wasn’t defined, she didn’t know what she was doing.

But no. Poor innocent Sasha had to take the damn bullet. No one was expecting that, Jean and Connie are dumbfounded as Sasha falls backwards. 

Some people are supporting Gabi in here, saying she’s protecting her home, but let’s get something straight. If Sasha hadn’t hesitated back then, Gabi would be dead. Sasha spared Gabi’s life and how did Gabi thank her? She didn’t. She killed her. She killed the one who granted her the miracle of life when she could’ve taken it away.

And of course, the Survey Corps flip. Sasha is obviously dear to everyone, we can tell that everyone sees Sasha as a close friend, or even a relative. While Jean and Connie, the closest people to Sasha, try to take care of her, the others are quick to pin Gabi and Falco down and hit them. They’re seriously pissed that a brat got in their ship and shot one of them.

We all know Jean is an emotional guy. But, seeing try to stay collected, giving orders as he sees Sasha slowly slip away from life.. Damn mate.

Also, Connie asks her to hold on until they go home. I still wonder why.

Also, y’all know what pisses me off? When I’m sad/upset and people still make fun of me. And this happened here. Everyone’s sad about Sasha’s death, some people are probably sad over Eren’s state and how the Survey Corps are treating him and Sasha’s last word is ‘meat’ ?

Seriously now, m e a t ?

At this point, I can’t help but believe Isayama is toying around with us. Sure, Sasha became known at the ‘potato girl’ and someone with high appetite, but is that what her whole character is about? Apparently.

And know what hurts the most?

This probably happened about five minutes before she was shot. Both Jean and Sasha are reflecting on their mission, on what they have to do and how they have to kill. And of course, Connie plays the positive guy. Sure he ain’t smiling, but he’s glad he’s alive. He’s glad his best friends are alive. Jean and Sasha are pretty much everything that Connie has. Sure, he might be a bit close to the others, but Jean and Sasha are definetly the closest people to him. He’s lost his family, he’s lost comrades and now.. Well, he lost Sasha. 

We can see the closure between Sasha and Connie and I’m not saying this because I’m a Springles shipper, but I think that there was something more than friendship, but of course romance would never, in a million years, be relevant to Attack On Titan. (cue; Hannah and Franz died rather quickly)

Sasha was smiling after Connie said she was special and soon they were happily talking about dinner. They just wanted to hang out and relax now.

But no. Sasha had to be murdered.

Jean is stressing out. Sasha is dying in front of his eyes. He’s probably thinking that he couldn’t protect her, but deep down he blames Eren for this.

The other soldiers have beaten Gabi more than Falco, of course, Falco isn’t even bleeding, but they threaten to kill both.

Gabi’s speaking shit and how they’d let the commander know and Jean just tells her she can tell Zeke in person.

On another note, Pieck is talking about Yellena, and how she knew Zeke was betraying them with Yellena’s help. Once again, why didn’t she do anything or report Zeke’s intentions to the other warriors?

Zeke wasn’t expecting that. He probably wouldn’t expect Gabi to murder two soldiers either. He thinks that these kids ruined his plan. I’m still not sure what the plan is, but well, the Corps seem to know.

Well, seems like Gabi ruined things for ya, Beardie. But calling those kids miscalculations is almost the same as called them failed abortions. Yikes.

I’m still very confused about this page, about the conversation between Levi and Zeke. Of course Levi would want to kill the one who killed Mike, got other soldiers to die and was heavily involved in Erwin’s death, not to mention he promised Erwin he would take down the beast titan. And, no matter how much he has to team up with Zeke now, Levi keeps his word.

And well, this was it. I don’t have anything else to complain about. I hope y’all enjoyed this if you reached this line. Maybe if I read chapter 106, i’ll add more to this,

[nauseateddrive]

BROWNIE OVER SINK by Patrick Daniel

Every short story I wrote in that period ended up being 846 words long. In an effort to bring this state of affairs to an end I took up a job in an office. The desk was covered with pale summer moons from the undersides of energy drinks, and these caught the sleeves of the coat and the seams of the gloves I had to keep on in there. My job was to go through documents replacing each ampersand with the word ‘and’, which apparently had to be a manual job because of the presence of ampersands in the code. I went about this with three fingers drumrolling across the relevant letters while the main part of my attention was trying and failing to get further down the page of the book that was open in my lap. It led to ‘Dan’. It led to ‘nad’. 

Sat to my right was a bloke called Adrian. Legend had it that ‘the boyband’ was his vice of choice, which is to say he liked to take on a pint, a line of cocaine, a cigarette and a spliff in crazed simultaneity. He lived near the university. 

“Continue to live in the vicinity of an institution you’re disgraced from because it builds character,” he said. 

He explained that the PhD had been on the way a certain poet’s use of a plus sign instead of the word ‘and’ indicated that the presence in the poems of what had commonly been thought of as em-dashes ought to be thought of instead as minuses, or so his thesis went, the words after the line detracting from the truth of the words before. Prising all of that apart. 

“I went quite publicly insane,” he said. “You can’t treat art like it’s maths.” 

I didn’t tell him what they had asked me to do at this desk each day but laughed privately to myself at the strange connection, announced the arrival of the supervirus.

“What did you just call me?” said the supervisor. 

“Just my dyslexia playing up!”

My main impression of this supervisor was that he referred to specific prisons by name a lot, in cryptic utterances to the tune of ‘didn’t realise we were in Bure’ or ‘you’ll see Wayland.’ 

“Put that book down or you’ll see Wayland,” he said, and then departed. 

I looked out at the tree branches which were at the level of the floor we were on. These were slung here and there with plastic bags picked up off the ground by the wind to billow in position like flags. I redirected my attention to the interior. They had really overdone it with the pot plants thing, to the extent that it felt weird to be indoors and yet bound between so many piles of soil. 

We sat in silence for the rest of the day. Maybe the supervisor had saved me the trouble. The novel in my lap was about FBI guys in the run-up to the Kennedy assassination, and I had been finding that the dedication and lack of cynicism applied by these men to their working lives came at the expense of the idea that they were tough and brave. 

The supervisor had been at the office the longest and had eventually attained a kind of authority from this fact that might not even have been official or reflected in a higher rate of pay. 

I understood what it must have been like to live in the vicinity of an institution you were disgraced from. A person who eats his meals over a sink understands that he does this thing in front of a window.

*

I was with Lydia at the market getting some kind of reputed cookie she had heard about with a brownie inside it and a nostalgic lunchbox-classic chocolate bar plonked across the top of it. She wasn’t particularly into drinking and so presumably this would be the kind of stuff we would do together. Perhaps there was redemption there. The coffee that went with it was about as good as the coffee is at a place by the bus station where you buy a coffee so you can use the printer. 

“I challenge you as a writer to tell me something disgusting enough to put me off a food item of this magnitude.” 

“I used to get stinging pains in my arsehole as a child. I realised this was because I was biting off my fingernails and swallowing them, which caused the fingernails to line my turds like the spikes around spike-headed clubs. Eventually I stopped swallowing the fingernails and instead started idly discarding them around the house. My mother would always later find the full ten piled up by where I was sat and she would gather them up in this one black ramekin. She would place the ramekin by my bedroom door to joshingly confront me with my disgusting habit. Your turn.” 

She said that she couldn’t compete with that, but that she had “always been taken with that backwards thing of how you know it was a good bath and sorely needed when the bathtub smells bad afterwards.” 

That night the excess of sugar caused me to dream that a word gets written across the surface of the town and all who read it perish. Only the town’s illiterates survive – a contingent comprised of one adult illiterate and, of course, all of the town’s babies. As the babies become adults they wonder why whatever killed their parents spared this one aging, imperfect guardian who has tried and failed to raise them in his image. As the years beat on they suspect it has something to do with illiteracy.

*

Everyone at the company was a transparent demonstration of the type of night’s sleep behind them. I realised that Adrian must have lived with pub and restaurant workers who made loud noises late at night on Sundays and Mondays, because there were tell-tale marks on his face from sleeping on his back wearing too-tight ear protectors of the kind used in clay-pigeon shooting and chainsaw work – perils of different working cultures living on top of each other. 

“Go easy on the supervirus,” he said, adjusting his jaw after the night long vice-like grip of protective equipment. “Doesn’t he strike you as a bit too heavy on his feet to make fun of in good conscience? You weren’t to know.” 

“Adrian,” I said. “You’re a real saint.” 

Under the desk I made a list of the various well-worn metaphors for what I was up against. By lunchtime I had realised that these metaphors fell into roughly two camps: negotiations with some internal disconnection (stammering, impotence, trying and failing to remember something), and negotiations with some external, withheld satisfaction (difficulty tuning an instrument, fruitless chiselling in archaeological ventures and speculative mining). 

It led to ‘DNA’. 

Pocket dictionary of the saints, received in childhood as a present from an elderly relative along with the bigoted instruction that I check it for the name of any potential friend before committing to the friendship. The cover boasted that the contents gave biographical due to over 10,000 saints, which struck me at a young age with a sense of the enormity of virtue. I was at an impressionable and credulous age when I received this object and, true to form, instead of rejecting the elderly relative’s advice I took the book to school with me each day. This was the kind of guilelessness that left me at a loose end company-wise during the early years of secondary school. Struck for something to read at these times, I would set out to get through my pocket dictionary of the saints cover to cover. I got as far as ‘Adrian’ before I became tall and people started to like me.

END

Patrick Daniel is a writer from Norfolk, UK. His short stories have appeared in Openwork Magazine, Necessary Fiction, and as part of Hello America’s Stories Mixtape.

[kelseybock]

A Few Lessons Learned: Summer 2019

I was flipping through a holiday magazine today and got so excited for all of the things associated with my favorite season and time of the year: cooler weather, pumpkin patches, cider, football, scarves, holidays... and I started reflecting on how great this summer has been as well. I have truly enjoyed this summer with friends and family. I’ve experienced so many events that I was unable to be a part of when I was in school due to lack of time, etc. and that I really felt that I had missed out on after getting married so young. I traveled to Mexico for my sister’s wedding and a family vacation, saw Cody Johnson (& Brett Young tomorrow!), visited with lots of family and friends, and met new co-workers and people from all over the world as I began my job. Colton would agree that we have both learned a lot about who we are and what we both want as a couple. 

I have personally been doing some serious soul-searching and that has been good, but also difficult. I’ve reached out to friends and family with my fears, doubts, and thoughts and have tried to make sense of things that I know have impacted my life greatly growing up. I’ve been trying to make sense of it all. 

Like I said, I have learned a few things this summer as I haven’t had the anxiety of schoolwork deadlines, exams, etc. on my mind to fret over and as I’ve actually been able to be where I’m at with the people that I love. Last summer Colton and I took a vacation to Colorado and I loved being with family in the mountains where we hiked, relaxed, and just took in the beauty of the nature surrounding us. This summer sticks out in my mind though as I have learned and been reminded of some valuable lessons as I traveled and was able to actually relax a little and have fun with so many people that I love. Below are a few of the things that I have learned or been reminded of:

1) Intentionality

It truly does make a difference to be intentional about being present, and scheduling in the time to do that. Our schedules these last few years have been crazy and difficult and we’ve tried so hard to just make it work however we could. I was working full time and was also a full-time student, while trying to juggle being a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, etc. Colton was doing the same and it was extremely difficult, especially when peak season hit every year at his job. I’m sure many couples may be able to relate to just in general, the stress of life and a packed schedule, and the pressure to have the quality time needed in marriage. Anyways, I am pretty darn real with people about my struggles and I am not usually one to sweep things under the rug, so when I say it was a difficult few years for us, it is not because I am trying to complain a lot, it is because it truly was.

People who know me well know that as a student, I stressed over my grades and know that I didn’t prioritize having a vibrant social life. I definitely sacrificed that often, but it was all worth it because I still have my man by my side and a family that has cheered me on through some pretty dark times. And a degree too, which helps in some respects I suppose. 

Friends have come and gone, but I am so thankful for our life group and the relationships Colton and I both have made here in KC. 

Lastly, I’ve had the thought that if others were to describe me as I pushed my way through life during those semesters, they would possibly say that I was anxious, boring, and probably grumpy. 

I’m glad to say that those long and dark days are a part of my past. My anxiety levels have gone down SO much and I’ve recently been putting way more effort into my health, relationships, marriage, home, and seeing and exploring our city. I have also recently started being more intentional about waking up every day to do something positive, something that brings me peace and joy before I start my day off by heading out the door into the world.

2) Facing Reality

I know from experience that just because one difficult season or period of life is over, it doesn’t mean that another will not arrive. I have had my fair share of bad experiences this summer alongside the good ones, but I’ve also had a lot that has happened in my life, just things that are part of my life story and have shaped me, that have come to the surface this summer. 

I try to stay positive and I don’t expect everyone to understand, but I do think that most people are surprised by my story when they take the time to listen to it. 

Having my past experiences rise to the surface happened often when I was in high school and college, but I was always too busy to really focus on them and the baggage that they entailed. As I’ve talked with others and have had the time this summer to seek out wise and certified people who have directed me to other intelligent and certified people, I’ve been humbled. And scared. Facing things from our pasts, our childhoods, our fears... those are things that most people never want to really deal with or relive. 

With the degree that I have, I should know that it’s more than necessary to take care of myself. People who have a passion and heart for taking care of others also have to take care of themselves, sometimes before they can even go out and help others. Reaching out and seeking out my options has been a huge step for me as I had talked to people in the past about it several times but didn’t end up following through. I made excuses because I was fearful. 

Kind of ironic... but has anyone else felt that way too? Fearful when it’s time to take a necessary and healthy step to help yourself? I think it’s important to have a good support system willing to follow up with you to see if you are taking those steps, growing, healing, etc.

3) Oversharing

A couple of semesters ago in my counseling classes, other students would say their first impression of me was that I appeared to “have it all together”, of which I laughed and explained how much of a mess my life really was. 

When people started telling me that they thought I had my life together often, I went a little extreme and made it a goal of mine to be as honest as I could with people, even at the expense of their comfortability, which is kind of embarrassing looking back, but I’ll own it shamelessly, or at least I’ll try to... haha...

However, I’ve learned to not share so much with people that I think may care. If people don’t ask, they probably don’t care too much. And if they do ask, I’ve learned that you also have to be careful because sometimes people are just vicious and want to use the information that you give them to gossip or hurt you somehow. I’ve learned that you can’t force who you truly are onto someone just because you want them to perceive you correctly. It is also other people’s responsibilities to get to know you, and you have to just trust that they will be gracious and kind in that process as you hope to be with others as well.

4) Investing

Colton and I are making more life changes and deciding what all of the next steps look like for us financially, with family, plans, etc. There are exciting changes ahead and we are serious about the next few years as far as how we handle our time and resources. 

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned, it’s to invest. 

Invest your time, invest in your relationships, and invest your money. Invest in the right relationships and friendships. 

Not everyone is cheering for me as an individual, cheering on Colton, my marriage, my family, or even my well being in general and I have found that everyone is definitely not my friend or interested in being one. I’ve learned to be wiser in recognizing those that aren’t. 

The reality is that everyone does not have my best interest at heart and that’s why being alert and aware is important as well. Not paranoid, but aware.

As far as investing money, we have been meeting together with a man that teaches courses over finances. He has helped us get on the same page with our finances, which has been such a healthy thing for us to experience!

5) Forgiveness

I sat down for the first time this summer and wrote out apology letters and also letters expressing how I felt about the things that they did to me or I to them. That might sound really strange, but I was advised to do it last year and never did until now. 

I wrote a letter to each person who I’ve been hurt by. I wrote out why I felt hurt by them, how their words and actions affected me, and lastly how I could have handled things differently in the relationships/friendships as well. I realized my own mistakes as I reflected. (Apology letters can be written for anyone obviously: family members, friends, anyone that you hold a grudge against or struggle to forgive) 

Writing the letters was more difficult than I thought it would be. Tears were shed and a lot of reflecting occurred. I realized while writing to these people that are no longer in my life or aren’t that involved how much I’ve grown as a person over the years and months, weeks even... and also how much I really was holding in all these years. I would encourage friends and family members to do this exercise as well because it’s incredibly freeing. You do not have to actually mail the letters or deliver them if you don’t feel comfortable with that. The act of writing them and putting them in a sealed envelope alone is enough for some. 

I think marriage makes you stretch and grow in this area at all times, but I have been reminded over and over about forgiveness and grace as I’ve been given it and have given it to others as well. I have been reminded that when I mess up and make mistakes, I can have some grace for myself. 

I’ve always been really hard on myself, but I’ve really tried to work on being more forgiving as well as remembering to take the time to reflect on my decisions. If my spouse makes bad decisions, I can always have more grace with him too. 

The forgiveness concept applies to all of my relationships though. I’m learning more about it overall and trying to give it out more than what sometimes feels comfortable. Because if I have been forgiven over and over, why shouldn’t I forgive others as well?

6) Boundaries

I’ve learned more about boundaries and having discipline after talking with people who have put their own boundaries in place. I’ve also read a couple of books about boundaries and people skills. 

Throughout my life, setting boundaries has been something that I’ve always struggled with. As a natural people-pleaser, I’ve struggled with saying “no”. This summer specifically, I got so fed up with allowing people to walk all over me and treat me like absolute garbage for being what they may perceive as a nice and quote-unquote weak person. Some of the kindest people have been through some of the most difficult experiences and events that some could not even begin to imagine. Those kind people are humans too. The difference between the people that are 90% of the time kind and the perpetually hateful ones is that the kind person has possibly experienced the pain from some of the most awful people and has possibly lived through some of the most horrifying experiences and are still able to treat others with kindness, respect, and love. I have learned that genuinely kind people have learned how to turn their storms and ugly life experiences into stories of hope for others. They have learned to love others wherever they are at in life. The perpetually hateful people, on the other hand, seem incapable of seeing the world beyond themselves and appear to have trouble with having empathy and truly caring for others. Que the conflict between the two and the relational disasters that often take place...

I will say that the kind people that some would never expect to lose their cool can get angry too if poked at too often for too long or if they perceive that they or their family are threatened... 

bears may be cuddly and warm looking, but poke a sleeping one, and you’re asking for it. I’ve learned to not be surprised if you provoke another to anger. I’ve learned from my own experiences, if you’re going to play with fire, then be willing to face the consequences if you end up getting burned. A tough, but good lesson to learn. 

With that said, I’ve learned to start telling people when they’re going too far with me. When they’re crossing the lines. When they’re inconsiderate and when they’re just downright being hateful and rude. I don’t do this every time because I am trying to choose my battles, but I definitely have grown in this area. 

I used to think that I had to just be extremely patient when people decided to resort to screaming or yelling as a way to get a message across, but I’ve learned that letting others think that it’s OK to treat people with hatred, disrespect, and unkindness isn’t helping anyone because if they’re not doing it to you, they will move on and do it to someone else that they can take their stress and anger out on. Sometimes it is your place to call someone out, especially if they’re hurting you and others. 

Setting boundaries with certain people is necessary and that’s ok too. I’ve learned to not feel bad about choosing to protect myself and my family from negative people and influences. You can still love people but say “no” at the same time. If those people can’t respect the boundaries you have chosen to put in place, then frankly, it is their own issue to work through. 

7) Grief

Grief comes in waves and it comes hard. This summer I was hit hard in dealing with grief and loss. I really missed people that I’ve loved dearly and lost. When I broke down at work one day, I quickly found that people are actually willing to meet you where you are and relate to you with their own experiences. In the past, I’ve tried to hold it all in out of fear that people would not understand. That’s sad because then you’re not giving people the opportunity to love you and comfort you with sweet words or hugs when you might need it.

I was also reminded that everyone grieves differently. As I’ve struggled through anger at times with peoples insensitive comments, it’s taught me what not to say to others. The saying is true that you truly don’t know what someone else is going through.

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There’s definitely more that I could write, but I think this list wraps up a good amount of lessons and reminders from this summer. Hope you all have a great and productive rest of your week! 

If you ever want to chat about life, I love coffee, food, and conversation. I’m not afraid to talk about real and hard things either. (Future posts are going to get very real. I’m challenging myself with this blog.)

Kelsey Bock