#I'm deluding myself into believing they were a happy little family and they lived a happy little life and all was well

[dirtytransmasc]

I know in my bones that Jon would have been a mama's boy, the biggest mama's boy actually, had Cat accepted him as her own. I just feel it deep within my soul, that boy would be attached to her at the hip, always holding her hand or leaning into her or latching onto her like a little leech (affectionate), and god forbid someone try and mess with her, oh lordy you better run. and honestly the other way around too, don't mess with Mama Cat or her kids.

had Catelyn accepted him as her son, the bond would be far too powerful, that's why they had to be put at such odds, it was for the world's sake, I just know it.

[trulyhumblenarcissist]

Abourt Rei Himura and BNHA Chapter 301

Now that I've read the official release of chapter 301 I can finally try to gather my thoughts. I think this time the particular rendition of dialogues and inflections provided by Caleb Cook is more crisp and clear than usual, especially in throwing "shade" upon Endeavor as a father figure. But let's do things in order...

Title: THE WRONG WAY TO PUT OUT A FIRE - a simple, but stark message that doesn't leave space for ambiguity. There was a fire, an imminent tragedy that could and should have been avoided, but whoever tried to fix it, did it all wrong and now we have to deal with a huge arson.

CARLESS HANDLING OF FIRE, on the other hand, doesn't quite cut it for me, because it seems like everything was caused by a foolish mistake. "I was carless and now I'm in a pinch"- type of situation, while it's perfectly clear that Endeavor and Rei decided purposefully which "strategy" to use with Touya. A BAD one to say it lightly. Rei's contribution and complicity is debatable, of course, and I'll touch on this later.

Let me get this clear though: I'm not trying in any way to critique the hard work of unofficial translators. I can't say anything relevant because I'm not a translator in the first place (I can barely understand English and my native language on a good day) and also because I am so grateful for everything they do in order to give us really good material FREE OF CHARGE basically a second after the release in Japan. I'm just interested about the different shades of subtext we can catch if we read the story through multiple filters. Every translation is unique because it carries the personal spin of the author even if the bias should be inexistent or ideally undetectable...

However, back to the chapter

REI'S CAGE

The first scene opens on a luxurious classic Japanese villa, with Enji, Rei and her parents discussing the motivation behind Enji's proposal. Or at least we initially think that's what's going on... Because in reality Rei's family couldn't care less about the motivation. Everything these people see is a wealthy, famous guy the next number one hero ready to take their daughter in marriage. I guess the Himuras are pretty broke, thight on cash, their old prestige is definitely gone and all they can do to save themselves from shame and poverty is "to sell" their only remaining asset.

During the whole ordeal, Rei is standing still, silent, cold as ice. She knows she doesn't really have a choice. How mortifying and sad is this? An adult, capable woman has no agency whatsoever, she is used again and again and she stoically accepts this treatment from every single dominant figure in her life until she can't be stoic anymore. I really hope Horikoshi's going to give her a much more proactive role in saving her family and it seems the narrative wants us to expect this type of character development.

I'd like to point out 2 panels in particular:

First one

In this scene the Todorokis are back from their trip to the doc, who clearly said they shouldn't try to conceive a child with a perfect quirk mix because it is dangerous (and morally questionable too). Rei understands this fact and tries to dissuade Enji, but he doesn't listen, because he's projecting all his pent-up resentment and frustration onto Touya. He knows how it feels to crush against an unbreakable wall, since he can't surpass All might and his son can't too. He had to learn this truth the hard way, so Touya needs to do the same. Enji is purposefully throwing upon his son years of failures, self consciousness and despair, just because the boy has to get it into his thick skull that he is a dud, just like his father. This is not a hopeless dad making a mistake bona fide, this is a broken man trying to destroy his self reflection by proxy, annihilating everything Touya is, swiping the kid's identity under the rug. He describes his son's dreams and sadness as something birthed from stubbornness. He is auto-convincing himself however (because Endeavor is not stupid). A little bit later he's basically saying: "Touya let's play make believe! We can go on like everything I had engulfed in your psyche never existed, you're a failed attempt so you don't exist. Your needs and wants are silly and useless, nothing worth dealing with now that I can't make you my prodigy. Why don't you go play with the other failures so that I don't have to look at myself while taking actually care of you. I don't want to see you, because it's too painful, because you're a remainder of my own inadequacy."

Note: If you want to read an incredibly well done analysis about Endeavor's motives and psyche, you can get it on @thyandrawrites , she's dwelt on everything extensively and way better than me.

I really want to talk about Rei though. In the panel I showed above, her expression is a bit tricky to analyse. At first she is very vocal about her position. She doesn't want to put Touya through useless suffering, especially since they have a scientific reason not to. They have no guarantee of success with other children, besides, they could possibly have to deal with other health related issues. However, all it takes to convince her in the end is Enji's half assed attempt at the "It's for Touya's sake" shtick. Is it really? Why doesn't she question her husband anymore?

Well... I think before Natsuo, she was probably hoping Touya would let go "naturally", with time and growth, maybe by taking interest in his other siblings. Rei said she wanted to have more children because in her mind they would have supported and loved each other. Maybe she was naive enough to think that a big family full of kids few years apart from each other was all Touya needed to distract himself from his purposes... BUT and here is the point I want to get across: She was deluding herself too, much like Enji. The ugly truth, in my opinion, is that Rei is a person prone to protect herself by going with everything other people want, especially if said people are capable of hurting her. Yes, she was hurt time and time again, but what would have happened if she really tried to stop Enji?

What I am trying to say is that Rei is the kind of person who endures to survive. She holds a "captive" mentality in which, by indulging her captor's desires, she can continue living with less possibile damage. If I stay still and silent, if I don't make a scene, I can go on, I can hold onto the few things I have that actually make me happy.

Let's think about it... Enji was so obsessed with his psychotic, power-hungry quest that he would have probably disown Rei. She would have been thrown away for a more compliant woman with an ice quirk, or something similar, this resulting in her probably losing everything, the respect and love of her family (the Himuras) and also her own children. Because we know Endeavor can definitely hold a grudge and is vendicative.

So, clarifying, Rei doesn't put up a fight because she is scared for herself in a way... She is scared to be hurt in the worst possible way (by losing her little bit of serenity), so her strategy is to endure and to keep up a facade of control and purpose.

Rei, ironically just like Touya and other characters in mha, doesn't really get what unconditional love is. Her family loves her until she can be useful to the Himura name and status, her husband loves her for her quirk. Her children, however, love her for who she is and she wants to stay with them... Only to be forced to leave them later anyway.

The few times Rei actually smiles are when she is with her babies. She is a deeply loving mother in her core, but her declining mental health makes her a very lacking caregiver.

This panel, in my opinion, shows the point of no return for Rei. She can't keep the glacial facade forever...

After Natsuo's turn to be deemed a failure, Endeavor is crazier than ever, because All Might is as popular and loved as ever and he hasn't make any progress into his eugenetic games. The last two images of Rei are very telling. She is exhausted, but she knows what her husband wants from her this time too. She looks like a lifeless doll and honestly I can easily see Shouto's conception as... Non consensual and I will stop here.

Then Shouto is born, the last, perfect specimen... And Rei isn't doing much for Touya, we can see she's apparently blind towards her eldest son's distress already after Natsuo's birth... But why?

Because she is actively avoiding to face the Touya's problems too.

If Touya is still suffering, is still feeling stressed and worthless, then everything Rei has endured, everything she pretended not to feel for the sake of her family has been completely useless. What Rei cannot look at is her own parental failure, is the concrete proof that while protecting herself and her peace she did not protect her children too, because the two interests were never really aligned, even if she really believed so. She never had a functional family to preserve in the first place and everything she accepted to do was all for the sake of a false sense of belonging.

However is too easy to say she should've rebelled against Enji and dumped his sorry ass. Abuse traps you and your abuser too in a cage tricky to escape.

What I imagine will happen next chapter is one of two things:

Enji stops Touya by using brute force, probably also saying something really scarring to reinforce the notion that Shouto is the only child he cares about.

Rei stops Touya by using her quirk. This act could be considered by Touya another confirmation that even his mother actually does something by her own accord only when Shouto's safety is at risk

Necessary conclusions

I don't blame Rei for her actions too much. She is a victim turned abuser by circumstances, but more importantly she's actually taken mesures to prevent herself from hurting her children again. She's trying to heal for her family's sake, really this time. Ten years spent dealing with guilt and having actual therapy seem a good plan to me. And now she's the one ready to snap Enji back to reality.

Enji, on the other hand, is trying too. It's too little too late, but if he stops avoiding reality and hardly works on understanding his family's point of view I don't think he is completely unredeemable. I don't see him surviving his last confrontation with Touya, thought... But I could be totally wrong.

Obviously everything I've said it's my personal analysis on Rei's character, as I interpret her actions and words, so feel free to contradict me and/or to add anything you might see fit.

[pink-writer-girl]

Search For The Fae- chapter 1

The fog was thick and the night was crisp in the town of Yggdrasil Barrow, though the fog carried even more tension that particular night. A young woman with short, wavy strawberry locks took a deep drag of her cigarette. She exhaled slowly, the cloud of smoke disappearing in the fog. Her cigarette burned low but provided a small light in the fog. Though her eyes were partially hidden by her hair, her expression was grim. She watched as men dressed in police uniforms moved in and out of what appeared to be a normal suburban house. Bright yellow police tape blocked off any nosey but concerned civilians from stepping over the property line.

"Another one missing," one police officer muttered with a pitiful shake of his head.

"This happens every few years. You’d think we’d have some leads by now," said another, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.

But they didn't. And after almost 100 years since the town’s founding no one had the slightest clue about what happened to all those missing children. The strawberry-haired woman put her free hand in her pocket to shield it from the cold as she took another long, deep drag of her cigarette. She put the butt in her empty smoke box and slid the box into her coat pocket as she solemnly made her way to greet the police officer stationed at the door as she made her way in.

Though she was inside the house the temperature didn't differ much from the outside. The cold within the house was something felt more in the soul rather than on the skin. It was something she was familiar with: the feeling of an invader’s presence, or a person’s lost warmth. The woman's solemn eyes scanned the walls of the plethora of pictures of the household’s family as she walked down the hall. A mother, a father, a sister, and brother. She kept her eyes on the brother, though. While the family appeared to grow more loving and happy as the years passed between these photos, the brother seemed to grow more physically distant from the others.

His happy smile started to get smaller and smaller and seemed to diminish to almost nothing as the years went by. As she peered closely at the brother, the young woman swore her eyes were playing tricks on her when she thought she saw a glimmer of an unnatural color in the boy’s eyes. “What—”

"Detective Nole!" A voice called out to the woman, making her blink and just shake her head. When she opened her eyes again, the brother’s eyes had returned to normal. Just a trick of the light, she thought. As she hurried into what appeared to be a white-walled living room, an older salt-and-pepper-haired man wearing a white button-down shirt turned to look at her. The wrinkles under this man’s eyes showed years of experience with cases like this, and they didn’t look like the cases were getting any easier. 

"Chief Rowan," the woman said, looking toward the married couple standing nearby. The man looked to the two detectives while rubbing the back of his wife, who had not spoken or even looked up since they had been there.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brice, this is Detective Resistance Nole," Rowan said as Resistance made her way to stand next to the chair. Mr. Brice raised a brow at hearing her name, which didn't surprise her. She had been getting looks like this most of her life. Mrs. Brice, who previously hadn't shown any hints of interaction, finally looked up and gave a puzzled expression at the name she heard. 

"Your name is Resistance?" Mr. Brice asked, wondering if they were pulling his leg. 

Resistance let out a deep sigh and rolled her eyes before presenting her badge to the couple. "Do you believe me now?" Both of them looked puzzled,  but when they saw the name inscribed on the badge, they nodded.

"Mr. and Mrs. Brice, I know you've probably been asked this question more than once already, but as you know the first 4 hours after a minor goes missing is the most critical. So I want you to tell me everything that happened today before your son Jeremy went missing and what led up to it,” The green-eyed woman asked as she sat in a chair opposite the Chief. 

Mr. Brice removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Just like I told your Chief and the other officers: I came home and my wife was making dinner. Our son Jeremy was locked up in his room as usual." A bit of annoyance crept into his voice at that part; some obvious tension existed between father and son. “By 7, his mother called him down for dinner, but when he didn't respond we thought he was having one of his fits.” By now Mr. Brice was looking quite distressed. “I knocked on his door to the point of breaking it down..." He paused to wipe his face. "He was gone… No trace of him… He was just gone…"

Mrs. Brice started to tear up slightly. "He… He had been so distant lately, but we never thought he would run away…" she said softly.

Resistance looked at the other woman as she took notes. "When you say distant, what do you mean by it? Your son is 13, right? Was hanging out with the wrong type of kids, or maybe there’s something going on at home you haven’t told me about?" The detective looked into Mrs. Brice's eyes. There was something wrong with them. She looked quite out of it, but she didn't appear to be on any discernible substances. It was like there was a cloud of sorts blocking her thoughts, with the way her eyes were dazed and how she stared blankly in different directions. 

Mrs. Brice shook her head "No, no, nothing like that... Jeremy has always been a good boy. Yes, he could be a bit shy at times, but he was so talented." She smiled brokenly. "He had the voice of an angel. He was in the school choir you know. So beautiful…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes became distant again. 

"Nothing I never heard before, yet so familiar somehow." Resistance frowned slightly and looked towards her chief, who shared her look of confusion.

Mr. Brice wrapped an arm around his wife. "I'm sorry,” he said to Resistance. “She hasn't really taken Jeremy's..." He paused, evidently trying to search for the right word. "...situation very well." 

The detective just looked at him, her eyes full of sympathy. "No parent can rest when their child is missing.” She paused. “I would know," she told them.

" You… You… have children?" Mrs Brice asked in a quiet voice, not really looking at Resistance, though.

Resistance turned to her. "I do. A daughter around 6," she told her gently. 

"A little girl…" A ghost of a smile flickered on Mrs. Brice’s face. "Just like Holly, dear…" She looked at her husband, her expression almost dreamlike. Mr. Brice just looked at her with a somber expression.

"Mrs.Brice, could you possibly tell your version of events before you husband got home?" Resistance asked the dark-haired woman, believing there was more to this story then it seemed.

Mrs. Brice blinked a little, looking at her. "It was a normal day… I got Holly and Jeremy ready for school... Though it took longer to get Jeremy about the house." 

The Chief spoke up. "Why? Did he sleep in?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Mrs. Brice shook her head again. "No… He was just so distant. He barely responded to me. He just stared out the window humming a song... A beautiful song… I’ve never heard it before." She smiled dreamily again. "I ran errands, then brought the children home from school... Jeremy barely spoke at all. He only hugged me and told me he loved me before going back into his room."

This piqued Resistance’s interest. “Did he do this often? The staring off into space while singing?" she asked both his parents.

"Jeremy was in choir, so it was common for him to practice," said Mr. Brice. 

“But this was different altogether…" his wife finished for him. 

Resistance leaned back in her seat, processing all of this. "Mrs. Brice, what time was it when you last saw your son?" 

"Oh, it was…" Mrs. Brice’s voice trailed off as she tried to remember. "I… I don't… recall," she said. Her eyes became very distant and unfocused, and her husband furrowed his brow in worry.

"It's alright,Mrs. Brice. We can stop for now," the Chief said as he held up a hand. He was concerned that the distressed mother was going to have an emotional collapse.

The female detective didn't fail to notice the small head of a child with curly black hair and Tinkerbell dress pajamas peeking around a doorway at the adults conversing down the hall.

"Would your daughter Holly know?" Resistance asked, making Mr. Brice look up at her. "She was in the house today. What did she tell you?"

Mr. Brice adopted a defensive posture. "Alright, I think we’re done with questions for now. As you can see, my wife is in no condition to answer more. Just please find my son,” he said shortly. He turned to his wife and said in a much softer tone, “Let's take a rest, alright?" He began leading Mrs. Brice out of the room, and she followed him like a zombie.

"We understand, sir. We will do the best we can," the Chief said before shooting Resistance a look.

Resistance got up up go out the door with her senior officer, though she didn't take her eyes off the little girl lurking at the end of the hallway until the moment she walked out the door.

“Ressy, what was the point of asking those questions about the daughter?" the older man said rubbing his eyes. Mr. Brice already has a lot on his plate with his almost catonic wife and his missing son." He watched her stare into the house. 

“The little girl knows something, Rowan. Children always know more than what they first appear to," she told him seriously.

“How do you know, Ressy?" 

“I could see in her eyes…" she told him simply. Oh, yes… She could see the same loss and dread she had seen in herself back then.

The Chief sighed deeply at this. ”Ressy, you know this isn't Lu—“

"I know sir." She cut him off. “I’m not deluding myself by seeing my missing little sister in a missing 23-year-old-boy," she told him firmly as she looked back at her notes. “Besides, didn't you notice how the mother was acting?” she pointed out to the Chief as they walked off the property. 

The older man sighed deeply then hummed in thought. "Yeah, she appeared to be a little… Out of it," he put simply. "I thought maybe her husband gave her something to calm her down.” He rubbed the back of his head and looked back at the house as it receded into the fog behind them. 

“She wasn't on something, at least she didn't appear to be,” Ressy commented, putting a hand on her chin. She had seen people under the influence before during her time as police cadet, and even more so living with her mother growing up… Her sister's disappearance didn't exactly make that part better. “But it seemed like she didn't understand where she was or what was happening clearly, like she was in some sort of bliss." 

The Chief just sighed as he patted her back lightly. “Just go home for tonight, Resistance. Go hug Lorelei. I'm going to hug my girls for sure," he said, turning in the opposite direction which led to his old grey Honda. He got in the driver side while Resistance got in on the passenger side. The young woman just stared at the small town as they drove by. It was very gloomy that day, considering the circumstances. It seemed like fog followed whenever they had an unfortunate event. A town named after the fabled tree of life didn't seem so lively. One of the disturbing reminders of it was all the missing posters of children literally covered all the walls, posts, and shops. Children that went missing over the years… It was like a sick attraction: the town of children spirited away. It also served as a “boogeyman” to scare the surrounding towns’ children into behaving, or else they would be sent to Yggdrasil Burrow.

Ressy dragged her feet to her apartment door when the Chief dropped her off at home. Her keys jingled in her hands as she unlocked the door. Inside, she greeted the babysitter, Rachel, a college student with blonde hair, brown eyes, and sun-kissed freckled skin. “Was she any trouble?” Ressy asked as she paid Rachel for watching her daughter for the day. 

Rachel shook her head as she took her bag and the money offered to her. “Nope! We had a lot of fun! We made grilled cheese, and got really imgative with drawing,” she said as she stepped out the door. "Oh, she has an imaginary friend by the way.”

Ressy blinked at this. “Wait, what—“

But by this time the younger was gone, and Ressy shook her head, sighing. Sometimes the blonde was so immature. Considering her age, that wasn’t surprising, and it didn't make her a bad babysitter. Lorelei had a hard time with keeping one due to her "strange" behavior…

Ressy picked up a lot of the artwork that was scattered around the room. “Looks like you guys didn't pick things up again." She shook her head, sighing deeply. Lorelei, though young, had great talent. It made Ressy smile looking over the colorful pictures of pastels and many fantasy creatures. Her daughter had always had a fascination with them. One drawing caught her eye; it appeared to be a shadowy humanoid coming up the stairs. 

"Hi Mommy!" 

The older woman nearly jumped to turn around to face her daughter. "Oh! Lorelei, sweetheart, don't do that,” she said, sighing in relief but holding her chest. 

The little girl had eyes of hazel and dark brown hair which had a hint of dark purple in it. She also wore a white t-shirt and purple pajama bottoms. "I'm sorry, Mommy" she said guiltily.

Ressy kissed her daughter’s head "It's okay, sweetheart," she said before going back to pick up the pictures. "Looks like you had fun today," Ressy said, looking over the pictures. 

The little girl nodded as she helped her mother. "I'm sorry, Mommy, I forgot about them," she said monotonously. Resistance’s daughter didn't really express emotions like other children. Of course she loved and felt empathy but she seemed much more mature than other children her age. 

"They’re very pretty, sweetheart," Ressy said, picking her daughter up and then sitting on the couch with Lorelei in her lap. "Did you make these with Rachel?" 

Lorelei nodded as she yawned. “I saw them in my dreams." She pointed to each of the pictures as she rubbed her eyes. 

“What about this one?" her mother asked, showing the picture of the dark humanoid. 

"That’s my new friend. He tells me many stories," she said, drifting off to sleep on her mother. 

Resistance became a little concerned at this. "Friend? Lorelei, what do you—?” She cut herself off, seeing her daughter asleep sighing deeply in sleep. "It's been a long day for both of us, huh…" she muttered, getting up with her daughter with a groan before dragging them, both to bed. "Better clean up tomorrow…" she said, too tired to bother with the mess.

Little did she know, outside in the fog, a dark figure stood in the middle of the street looking into their window... watching them.

Art by: BrinBrin(Ghost)

Story by: Pinkroseutena

Editing by: @poorly-drawn-skeks

Art by: BrinBrin(Ghost)

[olilas]

I Watched My Ex Fall In Love With Someone Else On Facebook.

Keeping tabs on him via social media became a form of self-inflicted torture that I just couldn't quit.

- A text by Kristen King.

We broke up in the parking lot of an Uno Pizzeria in Boston.

He wanted to settle down. He wanted kids and a good job and a yard for a dog to run in. I wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. I wanted to write and to live in a shitty apartment and to be in love in a tumultuous way. I was barely 21; I didn't want it to be easy yet.

We ordered two individual deep-dish pizzas to go and sat in his car eating them in silence. We told ourselves it would be nice not to tip, or to listen to the bad '90s songs they played inside the restaurant, but maybe it was just nice to not talk for a while.

"Something isn't right," I said.

"Did they give you the wrong sauce?" He looked at me with a face of genuine concern that reminded me why I loved him.

"No. Not the pizza. Us," I said.

A spot of red sauce crept down his chin. Without permission, I wiped it away with my thumb.

Through tears, we sat in the car making promises we couldn't keep, our cold pizza unattended at our feet.

Maybe in a couple years, we promised each other.

I held onto that longer than I should have.

It was my justification three months later as I clicked through his Facebook profile late at night. I just want to see how he is, I told myself. I wonder if he's found that job yet, I reasoned. I wonder if his parents are still in good health.

I always had a good reason for going back.

Their first photograph together was taken at a party.

At least I can assume it was a party from the red Solo cup she held and his tipsy half-smile — the same one I used to tease him about. His fingers were wrapped around her waist and as I stared at my computer screen I tried not to think about how I used to feel when he put his hands the same place on me.

Maybe they're just friends. Did he know her while we were dating? I wonder if they spent the night together.

I'm not allowed to care, I reminded myself. But I did. I slammed my laptop shut. I was done torturing myself for one night. But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him.

It was winter. Dirty snow lined the parking lot of the 7-Eleven where we bought papers to roll joints. As we leaned against the car I could feel the cold spreading through my body from the soles of my feet.

He exhaled purposefully onto me, his cloud of hot breath drifting toward me.

Like any dreamscape, it wasn't quite right. The plotline didn't make sense. Why were we standing outside rather than walking in? Why were we driving my mother's car instead of his? Why wasn't he wearing a jacket?

Why were we still together?

I took my hands out of my gloves and put them under his shirt, finding my way to his chest. He winced and then smiled at me.

"I'm just here to warm your extremities, aren't I?" he said.

"Maybe," I said, grinning.

I woke up cold, searching for him in my bed.

That brief moment after waking was always the worst. That moment when I felt like the dream was reality — like maybe we never broke up at all. That moment when I willed myself back to sleep, wishing nothing more than to return to my hand on his chest. That moment where I remembered so easily what it felt like to love and to be loved that it seemed impossible it wasn't true anymore.

I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and started scrolling through his Twitter. I needed to be with him, in whatever capacity I could. As I read the words on my screen I could hear his voice so clearly. I imagined him laughing at his own joke before posting it and smiled at the thought. I could hear his voice so easily that for a moment my bed didn't feel quite so empty.

Six months after we broke up, there was another photo: him and the girl with the red Solo cup at a baseball game. My stomach twisted as I realized she was destined to become a recurring character in his life. I scrolled through the photos of them together, each holding a drink. I wondered if she liked sports, or if she was more interested in the overpriced beers and hot dogs like I was. I wondered if she enjoyed remarking on the tightness of the player's pants, or discussing the blood alcohol content of the people around her. I wondered if they were having fun.

Seeing them together, with their easy smiles and full cups, it still didn't register that he had moved on.

Maybe in a couple of years — that promise came back to me too easily. I didn't want him now, but I didn't think that meant I couldn't have him ever.

I couldn't digest that he could fall in love with someone else while I still loved him. At that point, I didn't understand love could be one-sided like that. I couldn't imagine he told her the things he told me, or looked at her the same way.

In my deluded state, I actually felt sorry for her. This poor girl's boyfriend is in love with his ex, I thought. It's funny how easy it is to believe the unbelievable when it hurts less.

I pictured him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing the girl lying next to him was me. It was easier to imagine he was sleeplessly staring at walls, searching for me in his bed, than to believe the truth: He wasn't thinking of me at all.

The internet told me a lot about her. It told me she was beautiful and smart. It told me she was social and her smile made her seem kind. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't.

She took pictures with children and smiled wholeheartedly in photos. She laughed in a way that seemed authentic. She looked like the kind of girl who didn't take long to get ready.

I looked at her profile and then went back to my own, attempting to step outside of myself and act as an unbiased judge between the two of us. I looked at our profiles and saw all the things we had in common, and all the things we did not. My face was more angular and sharper than hers, my hair a little less blonde. My smile didn't come as easily, except in the photos in which I was with him. She volunteered more than I did, but I seemed to get outdoors more. She looked like she came from money, and I looked like I was living on hand-me-downs and budgeted grocery lists. We had our differences but we also had our overarching similarities: We both loved our family, our friends, and the same guy.

Months passed and I watched them tag each other in photos and their relationship status change. I cringed as they exchanged banter on Twitter and speculated what their jokes were about. I noticed when she became friends with his sisters and took a photo with his mother. I saw him wearing the watch I bought him as he stood next to her on a vacation they took together. I saw them driving in the car we kissed in — the car we broke up in.

I saw their relationship go the places ours had gone and to places it had not.

I wondered if they fought. I wondered if the things he did that annoyed me bothered her in the same way. I wondered if she wanted the big yard and the good job, too.

I could have stopped looking at any time, but it was addicting. I wanted to know what happened next. I wanted to see if it worked out. Or maybe I wanted to see if it didn't.

Despite my self-inflicted torture, I didn't reach out to him.

I still wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. Nothing had changed. But I liked seeing photos of that toothy grin. I liked when he made a goofy face or wasn't ready for a picture. He reminded me what it felt like to love someone, and I liked that part of myself.

We were both spiraling off in vastly different directions, but I still felt an inexplicable pull toward him. It was nice having him be so accessible, even if he wasn't.

I didn't fancy myself a stalker, though maybe that's what I was — leering through the virtual windowpane of someone else's happy life. I guess I just thought if I could see him on that 13-inch computer screen, then maybe he was still with me in a way, maybe I wasn't alone, maybe I was loved. Maybe he was looking, too.

As time passed, I visited him less often. And when I did concede, the twist of the knife was not as sharp. Instead, it felt like the prodding of a dull familiar wound, one that leaves its mark, but the pain is felt more from memory than from anything else.

Eventually, I went an hour without thinking of him, then a few hours, then a day, then a week, then a month.

When I visit his profile now, the sting isn't as sharp. I am proud of him when he finds success in his career, and I am sad for him when someone he knows dies. I am happy for him for being in love.

I am glad for the girl with the red Solo cup for finding such a good man.

Maybe he's different now. Maybe he doesn't snort when he laughs, or fold his pizza into a sandwich before eating it. Maybe I don't know him at all. But still, visiting him reminds me that I am capable of love, and that I am worthy of love. It reminds me that when you truly care for another person, it never really goes away.