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novelsandtea · 3 years

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Book Review: A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Rate: 4.5/5

Nesta Archeron has always been prickly-proud, swift to anger, and slow to forgive. And ever since being forced into the Cauldron and becoming High Fae against her will, she's struggled to find a place for herself within the strange, deadly world she inhabits. Worse, she can't seem to move past the horrors of the war with Hybern and all she lost in it. The one person who ignites her temper more than any other is Cassian, the battle-scarred warrior whose position in Rhysand and Feyre's Night Court keeps him constantly in Nesta's orbit. But her temper isn't the only thing Cassian ignites. The fire between them is undeniable, and only burns hotter as they are forced into close quarters with each other. Meanwhile, the treacherous human queens who returned to the Continent during the last war have forged a dangerous new alliance, threatening the fragile peace that has settled over the realms. And the key to halting them might very well rely on Cassian and Nesta facing their haunting pasts. Against the sweeping backdrop of a world seared by war and plagued with uncertainty, Nesta and Cassian battle monsters from within and without as they search for acceptance-and healing-in each other's arms.

This is the fourth book in Sarah J. Maas’s A Court of Thorns and Roses world. If you haven’t read the first three books – Go read them! Not only are they amazing stories, but this book will not make much sense without the background, even if it is more of a spin-off from the core trilogy.

I really liked this book! It has a little bit of everything: drama, quests, banter, romance, danger, spice (okay more than a little bit there). Its over 750 pages long, and I spent almost every free moment I had reading it and was finished in three days. That’s saying something since I’m not a particularly fast reader. I had worried about getting into a story that was not only not focused on my favorites from the previous books, but one of the two POVs was probably my least favorite character of the entire series (hello Nesta). By the time I finished it, however, I was cheering for every success these characters had! I seriously recommend this book, especially to anyone interested in a story that has a slower build but is still packed with wonderful moments that will have you at the edge of our seat.

Aaaand that’s really all I have for the non-spoiler section! Full review below.

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Since finishing the book, I’ve sat down and really thought about the plot of the story. As Maas’s books are typically very action packed, I had gone into this book expecting the same. While still having some real tense action scenes, a lot less happens in this book which is surprising considering its size. I think that is telling of Maas’s talent in her character development and her ability to make a story of recovery and growth as riveting as one filled with war and battles. The majority of the story is focused on Nesta and her healing from the traumatic events she had gone through during the previous books. I truthfully never really liked Nesta, and I found her to be incredibly selfish and harsh. Even in the beginning of ACOSF, she is always angry and lashing out at everyone around her. While it had me wanting to pull out my hair, I ended up loving that we get that unapologetic broken character in the beginning. We follow Nesta throughout her entire arc of recovery. We see her in her lowest of lows and are right alongside her as she learns how to work through her traumas and pain and face the person she has become. I especially loved the focus on healing broken relationships and accepting both responsibility and forgiveness. Not everything is perfectly healed by the end, but we do see Nesta walking a better path having accepted all parts of herself, both dark and light. A lot of time is spent on Nesta trying to push down that darkness and death that she associates with her powers. Seeing her not only accept that part of her but finally understand how she can exist beyond it was so impactful, and I think it does a good job of holding a mirror to similar feelings that I believe a lot of people have experienced. I really loved the hike and breakdown that followed her explosion at Amren’s place and the reveal to Feyre. The way mental health is represented in this book is refreshing, and so many parts of it felt so raw and real. It really struck a chord with me, and moved me in many ways as I was reading. It may sound cliché, but reading about Nesta learning to heal helped me acknowledge and accept parts of myself.

While Cassian is half of the POV in this book, it truly does feel like Nesta’s story. That being said, I did love the parts of Cassian we had. I loved reading his struggle with wanting to be there for Nesta in the ways she needed but also needing to protect himself. I adored how he truly saw her and always accepted every part, even all the ugly spots. When he felt the mating bond snap into place but left knowing Nesta couldn’t deal with it at that time, gah I was dying. Cassian never once pitied her. He wanted to help and protect her, but he knew it was a journey she had to do herself. He is a leading force in Nesta’s growth and constantly offers both his own strength and vulnerability. I really enjoyed seeing the love grow between them, especially as Nesta learned to open herself more to the possibility of healing and finding her own place and purpose. I just really can’t get enough of them together! I also really loved the moments we got between the three brothers – I was surprised by how much I had wanted those scenes. It was exciting to get a closer glimpse into that aspect of Cassian’s life, and the bond between him, Az, and Rhys.

I can’t avoid at least mentioning the smut in this book. All I will really say is this book has really stepped fully into the adult category. The scenes were extremely intense, steamy, and pretty descriptive. If you were looking for that typical Maas smuttiness aspect, be prepared for this book to be several notches above what we’ve seen previously (and a lot more of it).

I could seriously talk about this book forever, but as I already fear I’ve begun to ramble, I’m just going to list some of my favorite things I haven’t mentioned yet below:

The House!! I loved the relationship that developed between it and Nesta. Their interactions really became conversations, and I loved the idea of a sentient object becoming a core force in Nesta’s life. Also only-bubble baths and a baby pegasus are always a win.

Every snarky comment between Nesta and Cassian. Extremely entertaining and witty.

The entire Court of Nightmare scene with the dancing. So powerful and I loved seeing Nesta in her element.

The process of Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn coming together. I really loved reading about their training together, and the chapters once they meet up in the Blood Rite were some of my favorites. Their mini romance book club was precious.

A Rhys and Feyre baby! While I had some issues with this plot point, I still enjoyed the place it had in the story. The reactions of Cassian and Azriel was one of my favorite moments of the entire book.

The introduction to what I assume is the next major villain for the rest of the series. While it didn’t feature too largely until the end of the book, I think it did a good job setting up the situation for future installments.

The search for the Dead Trove. I really loved each moment we get, especially with the kelpie during the search for the mask. Good stuff

A few things I didn’t love:

I didn’t love how often Mor was gone. I know she did not really have a role in this story, but it would have been nice to see her more in passing as we did other characters.

The whole early delivery aspect of the pregnancy plot line. It felt a little plot convenient to me, and no explanation was ever given. I did like Nesta’s sacrifice and that moment, but I didn’t like how and why it happened.

I didn’t love that Rhys was trying so hard to hide the truth about the pregnancy from Feyre. I can kind of understand it when thinking about how he knew they were all probably going to die (that dumb bargain what the heck) but it is still stupid. Not the biggest issue to me, just not my favorite thing.

How much time we spent focused on the queen only to have her completely removed from the entire story in a blink. I know Nesta was insanely powerful at the time, but I just wanted…more.

I went into this book with very different expectations from what I got. I really enjoyed reading it, and I will definitely be getting the next book when it is published. Whether you loved or hated Nesta in the earlier books, I would recommend giving this one a chance. It sure changed my mind! Let me know your thoughts, I would love to discuss it!

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saltyghostsworld · 3 years

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Hello! This is a valentines day gift for @aphforeignrelations ! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!

I'd like to give special thanks to @istoleludwigsbaumkuchen for Beta reading this for me! You truly are the best Worm ace.

-______________________________________-

A Mirror to Me

The first shirt was too big, the second too small, the third was unflattering, and the fourth just ugly. The fifth and the sixth looked too similar to be noteworthy, and whoever said that seven was a lucky number was a liar, considering the monstrosity that Gilbert had pulled out of the closet. Gil loved Francis, he truly did, but by gods, his fashion taste left something to be desired at times. The eighth shirt looked decent, but not formal enough for tonight. The ninth was too formal to be worn at any event, and Gil wasn’t sure why he owned such an article of clothing in the first place. The tenth, however, was just right.

A deep maroon, partnered with the black-tie given to Gilbert as an early birthday present by Lovino, looked great with the black slacks Gilbert had chosen to wear. Nice leather belt, watch, and a little bit of cologne before Gilbert would be ready to go. That is if he puts on the outfit.

The problem wasn't that Gilbert did not wish to go to the restaurant, quite the opposite. It's just. Tonight was a very important day for Gilbert. Tonight would be the first time he will be setting foot back into The Maple Garden in what, two, three years? Not since the accident, that was for sure. Rationally, Gil knows what happened to him wasn’t terrible. He made it out in pretty good condition, and what he did that day saved lives. That's what mattered in the end.

Shuffling over to the bathroom mirror, Gilbert took one, long look at himself. He has gained back most of the weight he had lost. No longer is his skin ashy and pale as it was back during those few months in the hospital. Any scarring would be covered up by his clothes, which helped his anxiety immensely. He looked good! He even stylized his hair, just a little bit for tonight. It will be alright in the end. Gilbert was sure of it.

Taking one last look at himself, Gilbert braced himself on the wall as he hobbled back to the bed where his clothes lay in wait. Sitting down gingerly onto the bed, Gilbert stretched his leg out hissing a breath through his teeth from discomfort. The pain was nowhere near as bad as when he first started walking again, but hell if it wasn’t going to take some serious time and effort to get used to. Physical Therapy helped, it did, but some things just take time. With this in mind, Gilbert finally slid the knee brace on. Even after two years, it still felt so strange to put it on. It was nice though, to finally be able to pull on the brace without help. It felt quite nice to have some independence back in his life, and these past three months have only solidified those thoughts. It was good to be back.

After getting dressed, Gilbert couldn’t help but look at himself in the mirror again, smiling at how nice he looked. A year ago, Gil would have broken down into a sobbing mess, feeling like an imposter within his skin. Now, though, Gil felt good. No, Gilbert felt great! The cane truly matches all outfits, and it added a sense of maturity to his image. It felt good. It felt right.

Walking out of the room, Gilbert found himself feeling nostalgic. Every step brought back years of feelings and pains, but growth and accomplishment alongside it all. Taking the first step down the staircase, Gil is reminded of his first day waking up in the hospital. It was cold, and his body felt numb. He could remember how he couldn’t feel his leg and how all he could do was blink, then fall back to sleep. It carried on that way for two weeks, trying to contain the infection on his leg Gil had found out at a later date. Once he was allowed to fully wake up, the numbness had followed for another week before the Doctor had recommended cutting the use of painkillers to a minimum.

It was difficult, waking up and finding how damaged he was. To learn that he may never be able to walk again. To discover that his life would never be the same. Gilbert had shut people out at that time. He felt the worst during this period. He refused to see any of his friends or coworkers, as shame overtook all rational thought. Gil had honestly thought that his brother would only gaze upon him in pity. Looking back at it now, Gilbert could understand why he’d done it. Why he still hasn’t reached out to anyone. That was the point of tonight though, wasn’t it? To reconnect. To build new, stronger bridges where the old ashes lay. To take the final steps in his recovery.

Gilbert was a quarter down the staircase now, thoughts turning to his first days of physical therapy. The pain was indescribable. His leg could barely move, and Gil could hardly find the strength to continue. He thanks the patience of Dr. Ivan Branisky, for helping him work through all his physical problems. Dr. Branisky had been one of the most stubborn people on earth that Gilbert had ever met, save 2 or 3 others. The Doctor refused to let Gilbert give up, nor would they allow him to wallow in self-pity. It had been infuriating at the time, but soon became something Gil had needed desperately at the time. Now Gilbert could walk on his own again, with the help of his cane of course.

Halfway down the staircase now. Anxiety and anticipation were waging war inside of Gilbert, knowing that soon this journey would be coming to an end. And with this thought in mind, Gilbert allowed himself to reminisce of the time when he allowed himself to live again. A whole year after the accident, working tirelessly to gain the use of his leg again without crippling pain almost rendering him unconscious Gilbert had gone to his first therapy session.

It was a difficult decision to go, as any thought or suggestion had left him restless and irritated for days at a time, cruising the name of all that caused him to be in the predicament Gilbert had thought himself fine. There was no need for some stranger to peer inside his head and tell him how damaged he was. He told himself that enough already, thank you. Every moment spent thinking about it had sent Gilbert into rage and depression, only causing the people around him to insist that it was a reason further to go. This had been another time when Gilbert had burned bridges with people, scalding words and spiteful actions driving many away. Another reason why tonight was such an important event to Gilbert. It offered him the chance to apologize to many people he hurt and cut off.

Upon his entrance to the Office, Gilbert knew that it would be hell. The place felt artificial, with cream colors and few items here and there. The receptionist, Tino had such a cheerful attitude, which had felt grating during the first months. Anger was the strongest emotion Gilbert had been feeling, other than sadness. Thankfully, Dr. Heartman had fully prepared herself to drag Gil’s feelings out of him. She left no stone unturned and had him leaving raw once he walked out the door. He could hide nothing from the woman, which certainly helped in the end.

It had taken Gilbert almost three months with Dr. Heart before he allowed himself to even refer to the incident. Finally, he had found the courage to tell her what had happened after weeks of dancing around the topic. Before everything, Gilbert had been a cheerful person. He loved life, he loved beer, and he loved work. Gil had helped out wherever he could, whether it be advising exorcising or helping with fixing houses or volunteering in general. It had been volunteering which had allowed Gilbert to meet the love of his life in the first place, and for that, he would be eternally grateful. Gilbert smiled now, memories of their first encounter dancing through his mind. The two had hit it off rather quickly and came to no surprise that they had gotten together if their friends' reactions were to go by. Gilbert had limited free time, and the two had made the most of it whenever together. Gilbert had been a firefighter, working diligently to keep people safe. He never took into account that one day he would require rescuing himself.

Gilbert had been called in to put out a fire at The Maple Garden, believing it to be the usual grab ‘n go response. The building had collapsed when Gil went inside to check for any remaining civilians trapped inside, crushing his right leg and severely burning his back. Thankfully no one else had been inside when the restaurant fell, and his injuries had been minor considering the circumstances. Everyday Gilbert takes some time to truly appreciate the fact that he had survived such an experience. Dr. Heart had been proud that he could finally put the experience into words, telling him that Gil was finally set on the right track of healing and improving his life.

Gilbert finally took the last remaining steps of the stairs, sliding down into the chair right beside them to give his leg a break. It feels good to be where he is now. Sure, he could no longer do many things he used to the same way as before, but that doesn’t mean his life was over. All it meant was a new one had started.

Footsteps on the hardwood floor caused Gilbert to look up, a loving smile slipping onto his face. Here was the one person who stuck beside him through it all. Here was the person whose sunshine smiles brought life into Gilbert's dead world. Here was the single most important person in his life, other than his brother. The love of his life, Alfred F. Jones. Alfred smiled back, coming close to place a kiss on Gil’s head. “You ready for tonight?” Alfred asked, bringing his hands up to cradle Gilbert's face.

“No, but I will be.” Was Gilberts reply. He wasn’t ready to go. There were sure to be uncomfortable conversations, countless apologies, awkward silences, and more than a few tears shed tonight. It needed to be done, however, and what a better way to rekindle lost friendships and smooth over past grievances than a wedding announcement? Placing his hand upon Alfreds, Gilbert couldn’t stop the rush of excitement and pure love from showing on his face when their rings clicked together softly.

Yes, tonight would be long and tedious, but it would be well worth it in the end. Not just for himself, but Alfred as well. Together they would be stepping into a new chapter of their lives, one sure to be filled with love and joy for the rest of their lives.

#hetalia #Long post #salt speaks #my writing #Happy Valentines day!

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orderuponthe99prettygrimmdiaries · 4 years

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Road to Recovery 👣

Well, this is gonna be a long ass one. Also, this has been kinda drafted over the past... week? So it’s gonna be a real rollercoaster of a ride.

Had just binged Lucifer’s new season and was on reddit, looking at comments of redditors yelling at Luci to enjoy whilst he was finding stuff to freak out about.

Like him, I should have just been in the moment. Appreciated it. Instead of worrying about the next.

The past week has been.. emotional. Have been getting used to the fact that I might never speak or hear or see him again. Been also trying to focus on the bad to kinda ease the pain. At least it hurts a little less, less crying too. But it’s also like one day you do great, no crying, not much of missing and pain, but then the next, everything creeps in altogether and you fall apart.

The thing is... why does it hurt so bad? Things had been weird for months. I mean, I was the one who was always preparing myself for him to leave, I was the one who told myself I’d be okay even if we never went on the date. And I guess it just boils back to... expectations.

I expected him to care more, I didn’t expect that he’d be able to leave just like this. From regular convos to nothing in a week, now almost 2 weeks. I mean, we’ve had breaks. 1 day, 5 days, 10 days... It’s kinda strange if we were actually interested in the other. Maybe he wasn’t much of a texter and wanted to talk when we met. But did we really share much when we met? It’s odd... He doesn’t reply properly to texts, he disappears, he doesn’t really care much at times, but for some reason, I seem to remember the good more. It seemed like he does listen (at times), there were moments when I felt like he cared. A part of me still trusts him or sees the best in him.

Initially, I was trying to avoid talking about him so I would also stop thinking about him and I could move on. But I think talking about it also helps. Did also google about moving on from crushes, and that is a major point. Maybe I’ll never figure out what really went wrong, but maybe I could still give myself some sorta closure. Though reminiscing does hurt too. Going back to the place where we met, which is basically my workplace which I’ve to be at almost every day... The memories flooding in about the conversations we had. But it also helps me to acknowledge my feelings and fears, stuff that I suppose I didn’t acknowledge then. Maybe if I had been less afraid and tried harder, especially during the times we were both around considering how hard it was to get our schedules together. He probably thought I wasn’t that interested and moved on. Guys fall fast, but they seem to move on pretty quick too.

Ended up dreaming about him last night... It was really nice. There was a shipment, I didn’t let myself have hope that it would have been him. And he turned around, and it was him. I said hey and touched his arm. I headed off downstairs talking to the other guys, one of them was teasing me for giving him my number. He came down too. We sat there for a bit, and I asked if I could lean on his shoulder, and we ended up hugging too. That was just wonderful, but it’s sad to know it’d never be reality.

And I guess all those breaks we had throughout the months still gives me the slightest bit of hope that he might return... But now, 2 whole weeks of not speaking. The glimmer of hope fades as each day passes. Maybe, distance is just what we need, I tell myself.

But now, there’s also a new guy. So I’m guessing the likelihood of seeing him ever again is almost impossible. But is it really so bad if we never spoke or see each other again? Did he even really care? What were we?

Feels like history is repeating itself, and honestly, after re-reading old posts, maybe it is. Okay, but this time was slightly different. I fought harder. I should be proud that I got his number, or well, convinced him to get mine. I should be proud for initiating those texts, for finally picking up that video call, for asking him out.

I do wonder at times if it would have been better if I was just honest from the start, that I was interested and I felt there’s something special, different, but not entirely sure what it was. I had friends tell me that I shouldn’t be too emotional about too much, especially at the start. I mean, I did do this the last time, granted they were all online friends, and now we’re still friends. Maybe it’s different being online vs irl.

Should I continue fighting for him or just let this be another regret/what if? I guess I chose the latter. I was still too afraid to make a move, I was still too afraid to admit my feelings. I wanted to tell him, I wanted to give him the choice. But I was afraid, what if he only says he feels the same because knowing what I felt? I couldn’t take the leap.

And the more I thought, the less I knew. What did I ever really know about you? What did I like about you? I guess I didn’t listen to myself enough, or to the rational part at least. The closer you look, the less you see. By the time I remember this, it was a little too late...

I guess I need to stop trying to define everything. Some questions don’t have answers. Some stories won’t get closures. Not all friendships require daily talking. Why aren’t I okay with this? Am I just too attached to everyone? Does my life just basically revolve around people? Who the fuck am I?

I had been looking back at my old posts, all the way back to 2015, the darkest period of my life. I wanted to see what I did then, how did I handle it and pushed myself through. How the heck did I move on? Sure, it took me like... at least 2 years of moping around, then finally actually properly reaching out to get the help I needed. A couple months of counselling, pushing the focus back on myself, on self love and self care.

And all this unravelled within a couple months.

Granted, I think it was already starting to unravel early this year. All these work and personnel changes really fucked things up, with Covid just adding to it. And then comes those unexpected feelings, not knowing how to deal with it, worrying about how I’m gonna fuck it up, and in turn, fucking it up. Also, not giving myself a break when I truly needed it. I was afraid that if I took a break from texting him (okay I wasn’t really obsessively staring at my phone and replying immediately either, but I could have taken a proper break), I might have ended up losing him, and now, I’ve lost myself, I’ve lost him.

So yep, losing myself... this time, I don’t think I was able to keep it as contained as I did previously. Loss of appetite, exhaustion... I guess at least I don’t exactly sigh as much as I did during the start of the year? But I guess now with Covid and mom at home, she’s noticed the symptoms too. And I guess how I tend to stay cooped in my room, retreat back after meals etc, not really making as much convos with my parents too... Maybe even agitation or irritation as my mom noticed too...

She thinks it’s more physical, with my abnormal periods and stuff, like maybe I’m anaemic. Oof, and that one day she asked if I was alright because I didn’t seem happy. I literally broke down when I went back to my room. I try so hard to mask it all because I don’t want people to worry, and I want people to still be able to count on me when they need to. Though I’m pretty sure my colleagues noticed too. So I push myself. Sometimes I guess I pretend to be alright, cope with humour as my defence mechanism (self preservation through dissociation, amirite?), but then it comes crashing down the next day or next minute.

I’m just human. I need to allow myself to feel. I need to embrace that I feel a lot, sometimes a little too much. I shouldn’t hate myself for caring too much, for feeling too much. I need to remember to allow myself to rest, or else this burnt out and exhaustion won’t do me or anyone any good. Yes, I want to be there for others, but sometimes you need to save yourself first.

I’ve got one life to live, so I gotta live it. Right now it feels like I’m just surviving, otherwise basically floating through time and space. But it’s time to really live. it’s time to stop trying to keep everything under control. Sometimes a mistake is a destiny and sometimes we mess things up for the better. Stop comparing your progress and path to others.

Recovery isn’t a straight line. You’re gonna feel good and then bad. You’re gonna feel like a bad-ass bitch who needs no one, but then the next you might be crying from the pain of missing him. Sometimes it will just get worse before it gets better. Real growth isn’t linear, it’s a step forward and 20 steps back. You’re gonna be tempted to text him, to hear his voice, to try one more time, but then you also gotta remember all the progress you’ve made. People are hard to forget and change takes time.

Like Chandler and Joey were nudging Ross to move on from Rachel back in Season 1, maybe your friends had nudged you to move on too. My friends have been. Maybe our happiness just aren’t meant to be with each other. But I would love for you to be happy, even if it’s without me.

So, I guess imma do a separate post about all the lessons I’ve re-learnt. It was a real headache trying to write this piece already. Thanks to anyone who’s actually taken the time to read this. Take care everyone!

#post of the day #road to recovery #moving on #letting go #love #life #overwhelmed #emotions #guys #closure #relationships #recovery is not linear #live your life

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storiesofwildfire · 4 years

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Hard Life Updates & Hiatus Notice--

I’ve been putting off writing this for a while ( since Monday, really ). Partly because I’m so tired and my brain is having a hard time focusing on anything that takes legitimate effort, and partly because writing this sort of means that I’m finally acknowledging and accepting the reality of what’s happened.

I’m going to put the rest of this under a read-more. Please know that I talk about some potentially triggering content beneath the cut ( including pet death & mentions of covid19 ), but if you’d like to know the details of why I’ll be temporarily gone, feel free to read.

Back at the beginning of March, I lost my eldest of two cats to kidney failure. Pooter had been around for all of my teen life and all of my adult life. She saw me through the biggest and hardest parts of my life and losing her was really traumatic, but I still had a second cat, Monster, to look after, and she helped me through that otherwise really difficult time.

Unfortunately, Monster has been dealing with reoccurring ear polyps for years now. For the most part, we managed to contain them and keep her healthy, but that last few months have been very difficult for her. She developed a really nasty inner ear infection, went through a few stints of malnourishment when the medication she was on was too much for her system and caused her so much discomfort, she stopped eating. She was touch and go for a while, but eventually made such a remarkable recovery, I really did think she would be okay.

Sadly, the turn around wasn’t enough. The infection only grew worse and eventually, she developed a growth that would need to be removed by extensive surgery that several vets and a surgeon didn’t think she would actually survive. Because of the growth and how bad the infection was, they didn’t believe she would actually beat the infection, and the only thing that could save her was a surgery that would likely kill her in the process.

On Monday, May 11th, we had to put Monster down.

This was... honestly so traumatic because I always feared that once Pooter went, Monster wouldn’t be far behind her because Monster always had Pooter around. Monster was several years younger than her, so I always chalked that up to paranoia, but now that I’m living with the reality that I’ve lost both of my cats in the course of two months or so...

It’s been hard.

Hard is kind of an understatement, honestly. With the world in the condition it’s in--when everyone is suffering and struggling with mental health issues and financial issues and feelings of helplessness, my cats were companions to me, helped comfort me and keep me grounded, and reminded me to be thankful for the small things. It is... so difficult to wake up and have a house that for the first time in 15 years, has no animals in it at all.

I’m honestly really struggling. This, on top of every other thing that’s going on, has been really traumatic. For a couple of days, I shut down completely, didn’t talk to anyone, and any time I tried to focus on anything or think about something relating to Monster, my brain just turned off and put me to sleep. I’m slowly pulling myself out of that, but I know that I’m nowhere near better or okay.

That’s why I’ve decided to put my blogs on hiatus for the time being. I don’t honestly know how long this is going to last. If I feel like I want to be here and I log on to do a few things, I absolutely will, but I just... need time to heal and not worry about what’s going on here. I need time to process, grieve, and adjust to these very sudden and drastic changes. I need time to not be okay. I was already having a really difficult time after Pooter’s death and with the quarantine and everything, my ability to focus was really coming and going. Losing Monster too has just shoved me in a state where I need to focus on getting myself into a better mindset and taking care of me and my family members who were also impacted by the loss of our fur babies.

I’m not, by any means, leaving for good. Honestly, how could I? I’ve been dedicated to Loki since 2012 and Tumblr rp since before that, but for now, I really need to not worry about keeping up with things here. As I said, if I feel up to it, I will log on, but otherwise, I’ll be pretty quiet here.

I do have discord and it’s available for mutuals upon request. I’ll likely be quiet there too, but I’ll be a lot easier to get ahold of there.

Thank you all for understanding and being patient with me. The last couple of years have been particularly difficult for me and my family between job loss, several very difficult moves, a serious health scare, and so on... so I know my activity has gone in and out of focus for a while now, but this is just... so much worse than anything I could have imagined.

To Monster,

You were one of the most loving animals I ever had the pleasure of bonding with. While you sometimes drove me crazy with trying to steal my food while I was eating it or climbing into the sink full of dishes, or climbing on top of the cabinets, knocking everything over in the process, you were so special and full of a kitten-like life that never faded. You never failed to make me smile. Whenever I needed you, you were right there, insisting on laying on me no matter how many times I moved or tried to shoo you away because you were too warm or putting too much pressure on one paw. I told you every single day how much I loved you and I hope I gave you the best life I could. I hope you knew how much I loved you and how much you meant to me.

My dad gave you to me on my sixteenth birthday and I will never forget how he handed you to me, so small you could fit into a single hand, and how you laid down on my thigh and slept on me for hours despite never meeting me before. We shared a bond that can never be replaced and I miss you so much. My brain can’t even process or accept that you aren’t here. I keep expecting to see you curled up at the end of my bed or face first in your food dish. You will always be in my heart and thank you for the amazing years we shared. You were truly one of a kind.

-- Your Human

I’m going to post some pictures of Monster, just like I did of Pooter back in March:

#outofmagic #hiatus notice #tw; pet death #tw; mental health #tw; depression #tw; coronavirus #tw; covid-19 #index; mun #filed under; about the blogger #filed under; mun things

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 5 years

Text

The Bottom: Part 2 of 2

A/N: This was originally supposed to go...very differently. But then I had a revelation in the shower this morning, and everything changed. And I guarantee you’ll like it better this way. If you’re curious about the original ending after you read this bad boy, pop into my messages and i’ll tell you all about it.

Warning: descriptions of overdose, drug use

Word Count: 4841

When Logan’s name flashed across the caller ID, Juliet answered without a second’s pause, expecting her brother’s tone to be bright and warm as it had been for the better part of two years. He probably wants to meet for lunch. There was a time when meeting her brother for lunch was in a completely different realm of impossible. There was a time when seeing his name appear on her screen brought a chill to her chest and a dizzying headache as her heart began pounding in her brain; a time when a call from Logan meant that he was in some kind of trouble, or that he’d been rushed to the emergency room, or that he was contemplating filling his veins with enough poison to permanently curb his pain. But his recovery had been going so well, and he’d been working so hard to uncover the light that he’d lost inside of himself, that those feelings of dread, that conditioned, involuntary response had become just a memory.

“Hey...Juliet? Can...can we talk?... I’m at the hospital and-”

And just like that, those memories came speeding back to claw at her lungs and tear through her mind. Logan’s face; cheeks hollow and covered with too many days worth of unkempt growth, dark eyes completely matte and dull, pupils so small they were barely there, rimmed in grayish purple circles that only made his pale complexion seem more colorless. His skin; sweaty and clammy and thin beneath her fingers as she hoisted him onto his side, saving him from choking, arms and legs dotted with bruises and blotches. That slow motion sound to his voice, the small cracks and tired quality. The things he would say and how little sense they made, how not a thing from his mouth was credible- none of the promises could be believed, none of the apologies or threats or curses really meant anything at all. How he’d swing from livid screams of “Fuck off, Jules, I fuckin’ hate you!” to desperate, pleading, painfully sorrowful sobs of “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, Jules, I promise…”

Hearing him say those words- “I’m at the hospital”- made her heart rate triple and her eyes grow wide. She stood abruptly from her desk, manicured fingers clutching her phone in one hand and grabbing her keys with the other. No. Not again. Please don't make him go through this again. She wasn’t sure who she was pleading with, but the thought of Logan falling back after reaching such a peak, after the rigorous climb to sobriety that he’d made, filled her heart with lead and sent it dropping into her stomach.

What? Logan? What happened? Are you…” she paused, swallowed, clamped her eyes shut against the dizzying question whipping around in her skull: Are you relapsing again? Even though he hadn’t backslid in over two and a half years, that was where her terrified mind went. “Are you sick? Logan? Are you hurt?” The words were tumbling out and over one another too quickly for him to answer, too quickly for her to stop them, their bitter taste leaving her tongue numb.

“Hey, no, Jules...I’m okay. I’m here because…” she listened to his tone- not bright and cheerful, but not broken or slurred. He sighed and it sounded heavy, but it had the distinct weight to it that only came from carrying someone else’s burden. She knew that sigh well, having emptied her own lungs in that same soul shuddering way plenty of times. I swear, if this is about… “Jules, I’m here because someone needs me to be here.”

Juliet froze halfway to her office door and spoke your name into the phone. It wasn’t a guess, she was sure he was talking about you. Her stomach churned uneasily as she exhaled through semi flared nostrils. I thought I made it clear to her that Logan didn’t need-

“Yeah… yes. It’s, fuck. She… Jesus, Juliet. She called me because she thought she was fucking dying. And… and I think she wanted to...at least, at least last night I think she did…”

He sounds so...so sad. “Is...is she okay?” Juliet regained a normal, even tone from the relief of knowing that he was still safe, still healthy. But he’s still in pain. Why does it have to be her, Logan? She adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag before meticulously fixing the few errant strands of her dark curls, letting out a painfully patient sigh.

“She’s...stable, yeah.” He sniffed and cleared his throat, and when he spoke again it was anything but clear. “Jules...when I saw her…” he swore and his voice lurched with the distinct unevenness of uncontrolled breathing. “When I saw her, Jules… I- I realized what it was like...what I was like when you… shit.” She heard a rustling sound and imagined that he was rubbing his hand over his face, knowing that this wasn’t easy for him. “Juliet I’m...thank you. I love you, Jules.”

Juliet could taste her heart on her tongue and forced her eyes shut. “I love you too, Logan. You don’t have to-”

“No. I do. I know I said it before. But now I know. I know what you...what you saw, what you felt.” No, Logan, you can’t have any idea. You’re my brother. She’s just… “and how you...what you had to do and… And I know now, Jules.” There was a deep understanding in his tone, as though everything he’d been through- overdoses, hospital stays, rehab, withdrawal, the meetings, the back slide, sobriety- all of it was punctuated with a final level of acknowledgement now that he’d seen it from the other side.

“I hope you never have to see it again, Logan.” Her own voice had lost its sharpness, and though she was far from your biggest fan, the sincerity in her words was genuine; she truly hoped with every bone in her body that Logan wouldn’t have to go through anything like what he must have spent the last several hours going through- what she’d spent too much time going through herself.

“I’m gonna help her, Jules.” He sounded more resolute than she’d ever heard him sound, even in the boardroom or in negotiations, when he could be a downright cocky son of a bitch. But… help her? What did he mean by that? “I want to… she’s… I need to help her.”

“Logan are you-” Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not. What if she can’t be helped? Are you thinking straight? Does she really mean that much to you? “Are you still at the hospital? I’ll meet you there.” And to think I thought we’d be meeting for lunch when this call started…

“Yeah...yeah, I’ll be here until they release her. Don’t want her to be alone, her family’s out of town and she… fuck even when they are in town she’s got no one, Jules.”

Juliet left her office and strode down the hallway, heels clicking against the hardwood. “Okay. I’m on my way now. Be there in about twenty five minutes, okay?” And then we’re going to talk about this help.

“Yeah, okay Jules. Thanks. Thank you for coming.” Tired, determined, hopeful, scared… he was all of those things and she completely understood… and she completely hated it.

“Of course, Logan. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up and pushed her phone down into her purse, passing her assistant’s office. From the corner of her eye she saw him spring up from his desk like a jack-in-the-box, darting out to follow her.

“Ms. Delos, do you need a car? Should I call you a driver? Make any arrangements?” Juliet didn’t slow her steps or even turn around.

“No, Jeff, thank you, I’m going to drive myself.” Don’t want anyone to know I’m meeting Logan in the ER. “Just cancel all my afternoon meetings, please. Reschedule them for any time after Wednesday. Thank you, Jeff.” She raised her right hand in thanks as Jeff stopped following and returned to his office to start contacting the several clients and vendors that were likely already on their way to meet with her. Turning down the hallway that lead out to the parking garage, she kept her brisk pace until she reached her sleek black convertible, getting in and pulling out towards the highway. He needs to make sure he knows what he’s doing...Oh, Logan… why does it have to be her?

. . . . . . . . . .

When you woke up again after the doctor had been in to check on you, everything ached. Parts of yourself that you didn’t know you had, parts of yourself that you didn’t think still had viable nerve endings, parts of yourself you thought you’d already damaged beyond repair, were burning and throbbing, dull and hot and well past the pain level that you were comfortable with. Nausea rose in angry waves, corrosive bile eating at your stomach lining, your esophagus, staining the inside of your mouth. Your lungs felt tired despite the oxygen tube beneath your nose and around your ears, the plastic rubbing against your skin with the sensation of tiny sawblades, and with each breath you felt yourself grow closer and closer to the sleep that your pain kept you from.You raised your right hand to try to move the offending tubing, but you were stopped. Realizing that you’d had your eyes closed this whole time, you struggled greatly to open them and found Logan’s long fingers wrapping gently around your hand and pushing it back down to your side. You felt his forearm against your own, his skin warm and soft, yours thin and cold.

“Hey, nope, you need that, leave that there, okay?” There was a patience in his tone that you never would have associated with Logan Delos. He was used to instant gratification; demands, not requests, confidence, not uncertainty. Clearly, more had changed since the last time you had seen him than his sobriety. You weren’t delusional enough, even in your current state, to think that he was simply this patient and understanding for you.

You let him hold your wrist down against the sheets until you nodded and he was satisfied that you wouldn’t try to disrupt your oxygen tube again, and even then he didn’t take his hand back. Instead, he moved his thumb back and forth against your prominent wrist bone, protruding like a marble from the base of your hand. “Just hurts,” you mumbled, trying to explain why you wanted to move the tubing.

He inhaled shakily through his nose and nodded. “I know. I know it does.” His dark eyes narrowed briefly and he swallowed before your name fell from his lips- lips you could still feel all over your body even years later, lips that had always indulged whatever whim you were on, lips that were now set in a firm line to keep from quivering. “Do you...did you hear what the doctor was saying before?”

You shook your head as much as you could, no recollection of a conversation with your doctor.

Logan’s fingers curled around your wrist again and tightened in a brief squeeze as he sighed. “You need to stay overnight again tonight. You had… there must have been… there must have been something else in your stuff...some additive or, or whatever but it caused some blood clots- small ones, but they were near your lungs so… so they just want to be sure that they dissolve before you can go home.”

So that’s why it's so exhausting to breathe. You watched him wince as he explained what you’d done to yourself, and immediately you felt guilt add itself to the roiling waves of withdrawal nausea in your stomach. He shouldn’t be here. This isn’t fair to him.

“So you need this,” he brought his free hand up to your face and traced the line of plastic tubing over your cheek and around your ear. “I know it hurts. But you need it. Need to leave it alone so you can get better.” He combed his fingertips through your hair, grazing the top of your ear, featherlight before his palm conformed to the side of your head, cradling it against the pillow. “You need to get better. You will.” He swallowed again and you closed your eyes as the lips you remembered found a spot on your forehead. You felt a tingle spread out from where he kissed you, like a protective aura had been cast over you with that kiss. If only it were that simple.

“Logan,” your voice was raspy and your throat felt like you’d swallowed box cutter blades, but what you had to say was important so you pushed through the pain. “Logan, I’m sorry that I called you last night. I...you shouldn’t be here.” One had was still tucked against the side of your head, the other still holding your wrist, thumb brushing the skin beneath the plastic bracelet with your intake information. Why doesn’t he see that?

“What do you mean? Don’t apologize. I’m...I’m so glad you called me. What if-” The look of confusion on his face was yet another new development. The Logan you knew was always sure, even when others weren’t. He shook his head and a few pieces of hair fell out of place.

“No, Logan, I am. I’m sorry because,” you took a breath. “Because you’re clearly doing so...so well and I didn’t mean,” another breath, “to bring you back into this and…” you exhaled, coughing and he tried to silence you but you shook your head through the cough and took another breath. “You don’t need to be here with me, Logan. You’re not...obligated or…”

“Stop.” There he is. Finally, the Logan you remembered showed up, voice full and commanding. “I know I’m not obligated. I’m here because I want to be here, and I want to be here because I...care about you. I always have...I-” the sureness wavered again but he gathered his eyebrows together and rallied the command back into his tone. “I know you cared about me, too, back then. I...I know we did a lot of...of fucked up shit together. And I know it was fucked of me that I never reached out to you after I got clean. And, no, stop-” you had tried to raise your hand under his touch, tried to cut him off and speak, but he didn’t let you. “Let me...please let me say this?” You nodded feeling tears dripping from the corners of your eyes. “I should have. I know Juliet told you to stay away. I know. And I know why she thought that was best. And maybe it was for a little while. But...but I know that I should have reached out to you. I... even after everything...I missed you. You… you always saw me, you know? You saw me for more than what was wrong with me. You saw that I was trying… you saw that I wanted to be better...you… we were just… it wasn’t good timing before. We couldn’t help each other because we were both drowning. But the truth is, I would have drowned a lot sooner without you- without knowing that there was someone who knew me like you do. Maybe Juliet was the one who finally pulled me up, and for that I owe her everything. But you… you were important, too...are. Are important. And… and it doesn’t have to mean anything now or right away or ever. Even though I…” his tongue came out to wet his lips, a flash of pink before it disappeared behind his teeth. “Even though I care about you...I never stopped caring about you...but more than that… I want to help you. Someone helped me. And now I can do that for you. Please...please let me.”

This was it. He was laying it out and you had to decide if you were going to let him be there for you, let him help you. You knew you’d have to take this seriously if you let him, knew you couldn’t let him down. It was hard to believe the things he was saying- that he cared...that he always did and still does...that even in his drugged out haze of years past, he knew that you cared, too, knew that you saw inside of him then the man that sat beside you now. What difference could there have been if your father or brother had done for you what Juliet had done for Logan? They’d both given up on you years ago, writing you off as the black sheep with issues, probably hoping you’d just hurry up and off yourself so they wouldn’t be burdened by your destructive cycle. You had no idea where they even were at the current moment, or if they knew where you were, and honestly, you didn’t care. You’d read once about how important it was to distance yourself from the people who you were close to when you were trapped in the repetition of heroin use disorder. You always thought that referred only to suppliers and people that you used with. But you realized now that it included enablers, too, and that in their absence, they’d enabled you to believe that you had no one. But that wasn’t true. You looked up through your tears at the man beside you. You had Logan; he was right here, and he was telling you that you weren’t alone. For the first time in years, you weren’t alone.

“Okay.” It was all you could muster, but you felt so much more than those four letters could hold. The pain and exhaustion were still the most prominent things that you felt, and you knew that what you were feeling was only the tip of the iceberg, but maybe...maybe if you had Logan...maybe you could get through it.

“Okay?” His eyes widened and you saw them lighten a few shades. “Okay? Yes?” You nodded and his sigh of relief changed the set of his face back to the relaxed, quiet expression he’d been wearing when you woke up. He leaned down and kissed the same spot on your forehead again. “Thank you,” he whispered. You felt the tip of his nose buried in your hair, and his scratchy facial hair brush at your temple. “Thank you.” When he pulled back and sat up again, he took his hand away from your head and wiped at his eyes.

You twisted the wrist he’d been holding so that your palm could slide over his wrist instead, fingers not making it all the way around the way they used to. It was hard to keep eye contact with him- your eyelids each weighed a ton, your tears were flooding your vision, and the emotion in his eyes was near blinding, but you locked in as much as you could. “I’m gonna get better, Logan.”

“Yes. Yes you are. I promise you. It’s worth it.”

Looking at him now, able to sit here and watch you struggle, able to sit next to you and know the pain that you were in, know how every cell in your body felt swollen and sore, know how all you wanted was to sink back under the warm surface and float all the way down to where the pain couldn’t reach you, and still say that it was worth it, meant everything. If he can do it, I can do it, especially if he’s helping me. And if he’s helping me… I have to do it.

You were going to say something else, but there was a knock on the door and you both swiveled your heads towards the nurse who stuck his head inside. “Mr. Delos, there’s someone at the nurses’ station for you.”

Logan turned away from the nurse and back to you. “That’s Juliet.” Your heart thudded out of rhythm. Oh. She’s not going to be happy. Your anxiety must have shown on your face, because his fingertips were back on your forehead, brushing soothingly across your clammy skin. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle everything. Rest, okay? I’ll be back.” He kissed that same spot one last time before crossing the room. Upon reaching the door, he looked back at you and gave you a tired smile, ecstatic that you’d agreed to let him help you, before disappearing out into the hall.

Juliet is going to be pissed. You tried not to dwell on how your involvement in Logan’s life would shake up his relationship with his sister, trying to remind yourself that she was just concerned about her brother, and that he wanted to be here with you, and that neither of those where bad things.

. . . . . . . .

Juliet chewed her thumbnail, a habit that she hated, but one that came out involuntarily under stress. She stared at the same reproduction painting in the private waiting room that she’d stared at time and time again, thinking to herself, I could paint that. I’ve looked at that ugly thing so much now… I could paint it with my eyes closed. The sound of the door opening broke her out of her artistic contemplation and she turned, dropping her hand to her side. “Logan,” she exhaled his name and crossed the small space to wrap her arms around him. Turning her face to kiss his cheek, she squeezed tightly and felt him squeeze back before she pulled away. He’s okay. He looks okay, just tired, just sad.

“Hey, Jules,” he responded before letting out a long and ragged breath. He found the arms of a chair and gripped them before lowering himself down into it.

Juliet crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her back foot. “How’s...how is she doing?”

Logan blew out another breath, this time not as shaky, coming out in a spurt through his lips. “It was rough for a minute… and she’s… she has to stay tonight, maybe tomorrow, too. I didn’t tell her about tomorrow, but…” he shook his head, messy hair flopping against his brow. “But she,” he looked up then, and the smile that lit his face shocked her. “She agreed to let me help her, Jules. She’s gonna go to rehab… she’s gonna get clean and-”

Juliet quickly spun to take the seat next to her brother and reached for the hand closest to her, which was still gripping the arm of the chair. “Logan. This girl. How...how can you be sure that she means it? Any of it? How can you trust her, Logan?” She felt her eyes fill with concern and hoped that’s how her questions came across. Juliet’s worst fear was that he’d get involved with helping you, and either he’d fall back into old habits, or you’d relapse… you’d OD and die and leave him hurting worse than ever. It had to be her, didn’t it? Nothing you do is easy, is it, Logan?

Logan surprised her by sitting up and leaning forward in his chair. He didn’t rip his hand away, didn’t raise his voice or use an irritated tone. “Jules, let me ask you something.”

“Okay…”

“When you dragged me to rehab. When you found me, choking to death on my own puke, eyes rolling back and-” Juliet looked away. “Hey, no come on, look at me, please.” She pressed her lips together, held her eyes shut for a few more seconds and then obliged and opened them. “When you found me like that, Jules, how did you know it was going to work? Did you trust me when I said I would try?”

“I...Logan, you’re my brother. I knew it was going to work because I believed in you. I trusted you because I believed that you could do it.”

Logan nodded. “That’s right. You believed in me. Dad thought you were nuts, remember? And William?”

“Fuck William, Logan, he-”

Logan held up a hand, dismissing her hatred for her ex-husband. He hated him, too, fucking prick, but that wasn’t the point. “Agreed. Fuck him. But he thought you were crazy to believe in me. To want to help me. Remember?” He opened his arms and spread his fingers. “But you did. And here I am. I made it because you believed in me when no one else would. Because I wasn’t alone. I had help. I had you. Jules, I know I wouldn’t have made it without you. I know that. And now… now I get to do that for her. She’s got no one like you, Jules. Her family doesn’t give a fuck about her. They’re not even here. They’re not even coming. But I want to be here. I believe in her, Jules, in what she could be and do when she’s out of this. She’s smart. She’s bright and I know that’s hard to see but...but even back a few years ago...it was about more than the drugs with her, Jules, I...I didn’t know it then, because it was buried under everything else...but I loved her, Juliet. I couldn’t...I wasn’t able to see it, but even in the numbness...it was there. It’s still there. I love her. I don’t really know what that means yet, and I know it can’t mean anything until she’s healthy again… until she’s clean and can focus on other things...but… but I'm not just going to let her drown.”

“Logan...I’m scared for you.”

“I know you are, Jules. I know. I know you probably thought that I was strung out again when I called you earlier.” She made to protest even though that was exactly what she thought, but he tilted his head and held up a finger as he finished. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you. But you believed in me once, right? You believed that I could get clean and be healthy and get better, right?”

“Yes. Yes, Logan, of course, but-”

“So I’m asking you to believe in me again. Believe in me one more time, Jules. Believe that I can help her without falling back down. I know I can. I just need to you know it, too.”

Juliet hadn’t realized that she was crying, but the fact was that the changes that Logan had made in his life went far beyond health and habits. He’d let go of the resentment and the selfishness. He’d made room for compassion and love and a desire to do good. He’d become exactly what she always knew he could be, and she couldn’t stand in his way. “Okay, Logan. Okay. I trust you. I believe in you...and in her. I… I love you…”

“Love you too, Jules. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be great. It’s gonna be hard but it’s gonna be great. You’ll see.” He got up then, and the smile that he kissed her cheek with felt like a swath of sunshine on her skin, his happiness contagious as she felt her own lips curve upwards.

It’s gonna be great. I believe you, Logan.

. . . . . . . . .

Ten months later, you stood next to Logan with about twenty more pounds on your frame, a significant shine to your hair, a healthy complexion, and light dancing in your eyes as the Delos Philanthropic Fund opened The Door- a rehab and wellness center funded entirely by Delos Destinations. Beside you stood Juliet and her new husband Tony, and the four of you stepped down on ceremonial shovels to break ground for the center’s new facility. A few months ago there was no way that your frail and failing body would have had the strength to shovel sand, but you felt the blade of your shovel bite down into the hard packed dirt and scoop up a large rock. This rock can’t stop me. This rock’s not gonna stop anyone. This center is going to help so many people… and I get to be a part of it. I get to be a part of it because of…

You looked left and saw that he was already beaming at you. He held his shovel in one hand after the official ground breaking scoop, reaching out to wrap the other around yours. I get to be a part of it because of him. You looked to your right, where Tony had his arm around Juliet. And he gets to be a part of it because of her… Help. Everyone needs help sometimes. And now you’d be a part in making sure that others got that help. The past ten months had been the hardest in your life, and you knew it wasn’t over. But you remembered what Logan had said to you in the hospital, and you turned back to him.

“Logan? Remember when you said it would be worth it?”

He nodded, eyes on you and smile climbing up into them.

“You were right.”

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire@suchatinyinfinity @agent-bossypants @lexxierave @ymariejp @songtoyou @skwriddle @thesumofmychoices @obscurilicious @ilkaeliseb @belladonnarey

#the bottom #the bottom part 2 #logan delos #logan delos x you #logan delos x reader #juliet delos #logan westworld #logan delos x reader imagine #logan delos x you imagine #no stigma #submit the stigma #the door

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snootch · 5 years

Text

Late night drunkish soft post

It’s 3am and I’m kinda drunk and for the first time in a while, instead of feeling sad and lonely I just feel soft. I don’t post on tumblr much anymore, usually if I felt the need to post something feelings related I’d probably post it on Facebook since I don’t really have a personal connection to Tumblr anymore and I don’t really have many followers here that would actually care to read something like this.

But I guess this feels too deep inner thoughts to post for just anyone to see? I’m not sure how to word it. But I want to write about it anyways.

The past couple of years have been so hard on me. Sometimes it felt like I was never going to come out of this rut of hating myself and hating life and constantly being surrounded by the most awful people. In so many ways, I was a sharp person, with so much anger and hatred, but in the really important ways I was too soft.

I was such a mean, bitter person, but I had such a powerful need to connect with people and help anyone I possibly could. I put myself in so many toxic environments trying to help people, hoping that would somehow make me feel better. I kept bringing these people into my life that I thought I was connected with and who I thought understood me, only to be really hurt by them. Someone who I viewed as a soulmate turned out to be the most evil person I’ve ever met.

It was such an incredibly powerful experience. I was put through things I never thought would happen and felt emotions I didn’t know existed. It may seem overdramatic, in comparison to the things that happen in this world and to other people. But it changed me so deeply.

After that happened, I felt so lost and empty. In the period of only a few weeks, I’d lost a large chunk of people I’d, at the time, considered to be my most cherished and beloved people in my life. It made me feel cut off from parts of my life that were so intrinsic to who I was as a person at the time, I didn’t know who I was or how to move forward from that point.

I lost huge parts of my identity and was left with a gaping hole in my support system.

And I was so unbelievably lucky to meet such incredibly important people so soon afterwards. I became reconnected with someone who introduced me to someone who is now one of my best friends, and together those people, and the person I now live with (that I met through them), have become my close family and trusted support system. And at the same time, a truly magical person came into my life who I am now in a relationship with.

I’m very vocal that this person, my partner, saved my life. I’d never met someone so soft and so genuinely kind. After time and time again of growing close to people who only held our friendship as a tool to gain something from me, I was stricken by how this person only ever asked one thing from me, and that was just the opportunity to spend time with me.

In the time I’ve known them, they’ve been unworldly kind and selfless to me. When they came into my life, I changed as a person. I wanted to be more like them. I was tired of being this angry person who sought out relationships with like-minded angry people. I suddenly understood that I didn’t need to find people who could understand my anger and hurt, but that what I truly wanted and needed was people who could teach me how not to be controlled by it.

Comparing the kind of person I am now to who I was at the end of 2017, I feel like I’ve become utterly unrecognizable. I’m hung up on my past, but now instead of it being out of a place of hatred for what had happened to me, it’s out of awe of how much I’ve grown and changed into a person I never thought I’d be.

I’m still unhappy a lot. I’m still immensely disappointed in the way my life turned out, where I am, how I’m living, but I’m no longer living in a state of belief that that’s where I’m stuck with no way out. Even in the small steps I take, I feel motivated and positive that growth is possible and within reach.

I feel so much genuine joy in life. It makes the bad times hurt worse, but they’re so much fewer and far between. I had the chance to truthfully tell my mom that I felt genuinely happy for the first time in over a decade. The difference in who I am now is so obvious even in the littlest things in my life now.

I do make a lot of comparisons to my past, I talk about this topic a lot, though never this in depth. I think maybe sometimes it comes off as self-involved, or like I’m bragging my recovery to other people. But what I really am is simply amazed. It’s a difficult thing to say, but I’m proud of myself. I’ve been at so many points in my life that fell so low that there genuinely didn’t feel like there was a way up, and that my experiences were my destiny to repeat over and over again for the rest of my life.

I was afraid I’d never be happy, and that I’d never meet people who didn’t treat me like garbage, and that I wouldn’t be able to become someone people didn’t hate. Hearing other people point out the change in my personality and tell me they’re proud of the way I turned my life around is one of my most treasured experiences in life. It doesn’t matter how many times I get told this same thing by the same people, it means more to me than can possibly be put into words.

I’m so thankful for the people that came into my life. I’m so thankful for the kindness I’ve been shown, the forgiveness and apologies I’ve received, the things that have come into my life that I can take joy in and feel relief from.

I’m thankful for a lot of little things that feel too silly to say, but to explain in detail the reasons they’re so deeply important to me despite their outwards seeming uselessness and ridiculousness... I’m thankful in knowing people will understand and grateful in knowing no one asks for that explanation.

All I can say to end this is that I hope I can someday, hopefully soon, look back on this post with the same sentiment of gratitude that I’ve made so much positive progress. I’m now someone with hopefulness for my future and I’ll be glad if I can be equally as unrecognizable in a couple years as I am now compared to then.

#me #robin rants and raves #this is a really long drunkish post basically journaling about thoughts I've been having for a while #and finally feel capable of putting into words

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fandomplethora · 5 years

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Jihyun’s AE & Rika’s Behind Story

and the theme of forgiveness and letting go.

so, this is strictly my opinion, not meant to upset anyone or start arguments - just where i stand on everything at this moment. this game always has a way of making you reevaluate things and reflect more. also, they have a way of throwing major facts in to really turn the story to a somewhat new direction. so, again, this is my opinion - and...i’m writing this so i can get my thoughts organized after staying up all night completing everything. just a warning - this is going to be a very, v e r y long post.

SPOILERS AHEAD.

i saw many people complaining about Jihyun not being in his own AE that much. and, i understand that, because they hyped it up by releasing it on Valentine’s Day making it seem like the AE was going to take place, perhaps, after him and MC reunite at the party. but...i think that the way they did it actually answered a lot more of our questions.

because the main complaint of Another Story was that it seemed like for whoever you saved, the other would be sacrificed. (Jihyun’s Route - they left us thinking Saeran was dead and on Saeran’s Route, Jihyun disappears with Rika & Saeyoung and Vanderwood are kidnapped by the Prime Minister.) to show everything all romantic and “lovey dovey” (as Zen and Yoosung would say) - with just showing the fate of the other characters as a passing thought, would have really made audiences/players upset too. at least, it would have for me. this route and AE, and just Another Story as a whole, was not just about romance. (just like in the other routes too.) it is about support and healing and recovery and self acceptance. and then romance.

Saeyoung, Jihyun and Saeran (a n d Rika/Mina) are three/four of the characters most wrapped up in this main storyline. with Jumin and Yoosung right behind them and Hyun and Jaehee and Vanderwood behind them. (this is not me rating the characters or saying how important they are - at the end of the day, they are all equally involved in this story and have equal bearing on it. i’m just saying that Jihyun and Mina were at the center of the RFA as an organization and they are the ones who “adopted” Saeyoung and Saeran. Jumin is Jihyun’s best friend/family and, by proxy, Rika’s friend, and Yoosung is Rika’s adoptive cousin. Zen and Jaehee had no previous connection to the situation before the RFA. Vanderwood kind of did by being Saeyoung’s colleague and, later, good friend but...again, he had no awareness or connection to the situation as a whole. the last three became involved later after becoming friends with everyone and involved in the RFA.) but, by the time we d o reach present day with the RFA and the timeline of their routes and AE’s...everyone, e v e r y o n e, is involved and has equal weight in the situation.

okay, but back to what i was saying, the reason why, i believe, Cheritz created “episodes” for Jihyun’s route is the same reason Saeyoung had secret endings attached to his route. there was so much more to uncover, discover and solve. it’s the same reason we have Rika’s Behind Story. there was a lot more to add to the situation. and, why, i believe (and hope), they will do the same thing for Saeran’s AE too. these four characters are so deeply wrapped up in each other’s past, present and future - it is needed to delve deeper. and, depending on which route’s AE or SE you are doing - it IS going to be from t h e i r perspective and what leads to the best outcome and understanding for t h e m.

Cheritz gave us the option to “Forgive” or “Judge” because of the controversy surrounding Rika. but, also, because of Jihyun. and what was needed for him and his fate. the “forgiveness” ending seems to be the better of the two because it is what truly lead to closure for him (and everyone else). Jihyun took j u s t as much blame onto himself with how everything went down. it’s why he needed time away. to find himself again but, also, do what he could to make up for his mistakes. and he could only do that, and truly heal himself, by helping Saeran. and, in the end, i think being together with Jihyun helped Saeran heal as well. they were both victims of Rika but also carried so much guilt onto themselves for their actions though it was the product of manipulation and/or brainwashing. they helped each other heal. t h a t is what Jihyun was doing what he was for those two years. (contrary to the previous belief that he was just traveling by himself.)

(let the record show that i have not completed the Judge AE, only the Forgive AE, and don’t plan to, this is going off of what other people have said about it.)

so, forgiveness. i think Hyun said it best. he basically said that forgiveness is something you do for yourself and your happiness. i have always believed that. everyone had mixed feelings about everything because Rika is the one who still brought them all together and did do a lot of good. but then...she also had this other side of her that she hid away that hurt so many.

i think what is getting lost in translation is that...forgiveness is not excusing. forgiveness is something that helps you let go of the past. they never excused what she did. there is even a line MC says about this. “it doesn’t excuse what she did but...” (something like that.) they are not being selfless by forgiving Rika. it was the only way to move on. because by forgiving Rika...they also all forgave each other. Jihyun, Saeyoung, Saeran and the rest of the RFA.

i believe in all of this. but i am also a person that believes that people can still be held accountable even though we forgive them. while i never endured the level of abuse that these characters did - i have lived in an emotionally/mentally/verbally abusive and manipulative home with someone at the center of (most of) it. and they a r e a toxic person who has suffered from past trauma and current mental illness who refuses to see the affect of their actions and get help. their actions hurt others. when being around them consistently, it is hard to forgive them. but i believe in forgiveness, at a distance, is necessary at times. just because you forgive, it doesn’t mean you need to let them back in or repeat history. it does not mean you excuse them. you acknowledge it and make them accountable. they need to know what they did. but you forgive them too, for you. because how i chose to handle it is that...i don’t wish them ill will. that anger inside of me i felt for so long actually hurt me more. made me change who i was. i recognize that we are not people we need to have in each others lives. for the sake of our mental health and happiness and future. ...and i’m still, even today, working on the forgiveness part. (i would probably need a couple years away to do so too...and i didn’t go through nearly as much as the MM characters did.) but i do think it is something i need to do...for me. just like they needed to do what they did for them.

so, i do wish Rika had been held more accountable. b u t, in a sense, she was. e v e r y t h i n g came out. what she did and said. what happened within the RFA. who the Prime Minister really was and who Saeyoung and Saeran really were. and, i thought, at first...all of her guilt was just a lapse and/or manipulation. but she was actually feeling guilty - but, more than that, she turned herself in. she admitted she was wrong. she helped reveal who the Prime Minister was. while she did not serve time or spend time in treatment...she achieved self love as well. self revelation, in a sense. but...i know the question - at what cost? and that’s the part that gets me.

but i don’t think that things would have turned out the same if other things had not gone the same way. as in, if Saeyoung and Saeran had not been brought back together, if the Prime Minister was still after them, if Jihyun hadn’t done what he was able to...she would not have been able to move on either as she did. i, personally, think that it would have shown even more true growth if she had served time (and been held accountable by the law more) in a mental health facility and then came back the other side still with her new perspective and continued going to therapy even when she was out. (but i have read that she was still held accountable by the public.) (and, side note, w o w - the public really came through for the other situations as well.)

in reality - i just don’t know if this is because of the lack of awareness of mental health in Korea that i have heard other people mention, but another thing that left me with mixed feelings is that...Rika is not just magically better. (while her actions a r e her choices) she has severe past trauma, abuse and mental illness that is n o t her fault that she needs professional help for. this has not changed. so, i did not like how she just went off on her own, to live her own life, without this being further addressed. going along with the previous paragraph, i think a way to properly approach these facts is to show her accepting treatment as well. not just show a conversation with God and then, bam, that’s it. that is not how it works. if religion or some kind of revelation helps you, that’s great. but it can’t be the only step. Rika...Mina is sure to have relapses, is sure to have moments when those dark thoughts come back. she needs professional help and continued treatment to help her learn how to deal with these facts and separate who she really is from them. that is what having anxiety, depression, PTSD, BPD, personality disorders...whatever you feel she has, is about. her symptoms are not her fault, her actions and reactions to them are what she is to be held accountable for. to show her receiving treatment again, as she even does go live her own life, would have been a healthy message. also, again, to show her having consequences for her actions but then still coming out better on the other side would have been okay too. the discussion with God was very deep but even She said that there are things Rika had to do for the sake of the future still. i just hope that maybe ongoing treatment is mentioned for her in the future.

also, in terms of legal action, if we are thinking about this in reality - what about all the other hundreds of believers she had with her at Mint Eye. where is their closure as well? i don’t know. i also don’t know if maybe there are other things just left out of the AE or Behind Story that have not been mentioned yet.

but, as a whole, Mystic Messenger’s (and Cheritz’s) theme of forgiveness is a positive one. because while we can talk all day about “what about justice?”, “what about consequences?”, “what message does this send?”, “what about people being held accountable?” - this all comes down to opinion and interpretation. what Rika did was wrong. it was. that has not changed. i have made previous points and posts about her and those still stand. mental illness and past trauma are not an excuse for abuse. but one thing that has changed is that she did try to truly make up for it, even at the cost of turning herself in. she did. is that enough after everything? well, again, that comes down to your opinion.

because there are many who don’t like Mina. and there are people who don’t like Hyun. there are people who don’t like Yoosung. Jaehee. Jumin, Saeyoung, Jihyun, Saeran. Vanderwood. even people who don’t like MC! don’t like their actions, their personalities and whatever else.

(me, well, if you follow me or look at my blog...i love all eight characters with all of my heart and i have always had mixed feelings about Rika too. i also really like MC as a character too. (but i also have the opinion of, as long as you are not being abusive about it or taking an unhealthy stance on it, you can have whatever opinion you want.)

i don’t think the AE and the Behind Story was to make us like Rika. it was just explanations, more answers, another perspective to truly allow us to come to our own conclusions. we can still think what we think, keep our stances and have your favorite or not-so-favorite characters. this entire update was just granting us more insight into Mystic Messenger’s storyline. and about finding closure in a way that works for the characters and how they are written.

this game and story is different because they have very serious and deep themes that truly affect players and audiences. that could, hopefully, help us.

themes of mental illness, emotional/mental/verbal/physical/sexual abuse, forgiveness, friendship, family, trust, recovery/healing, letting go and love.

so, i will say this...one thing i greatly, greatly enjoyed...was how the RFA really came together and worked together. there were no secrets, there was open communication. they were physically all together at times even, apart from the party. they were there for each other. a l l o f t h e m. the only “secret” in this was the fact that Saeran truly was alive and saved by Jihyun. but they already suspected him to be alive at least, though i wish he would have came forward sooner. but i think it worked out in the end because it showed Saeran able to come forward (more) comfortably and reunite with his brother. Jihyun helped him recover in those two years. granting Saeran the time he needed along with Jihyun, away from everything.

as Jumin or Jaehee said...“we promised no more secrets” and everyone kept their end of the bargain.

this update showed so many different sides to all of the characters. Hyun and Jaehee continually trying to be understanding while also incredibly real with the situation, Yoosung’s reevaluation of everything and confrontation of the cousin he so admired, Jumin’s conversations with Saeyoung and how much he helped him. while he cares about his company it came second to the RFA, his family and Saeyoung’s situation. Vanderwood even talking Saeyoung down and being there for him, choosing to protect Saeyoung and, in the end, the RFA as well. Jihyun and Saeran’s recovery process. and, of course, even Mina’s transformation.

could some things have been done better? yes. should they have taken a different approach to the subject of mental health? yes. should they have left trigger warnings for the AE’s and Behind Story? hell yes. (the one thing i a m genuinely upset about.)

but, this update brought new things to the table. it is good writing to write such deep and flawed and human characters. because we are all deep, flawed and imperfect. it is what makes us human. again, yes, how some things were handled could have been better. i am not in denial about that. but, overall, i was happy to see all of our characters happy.

t h a t is the point. how you may handle things in your real life is your choice. and, so, how this AE ended is what brought these characters happiness and closure after everything.

i wanted to see them all together, helping one another. i wanted them all alive and healthy and happy and i got that. and i was overjoyed to see that after everything that happened.

i know many have their opinions on why Cheritz did this how they did. i know and i get it. but...this is just where i stand. many different emotions/feelings but, overall, grateful.

my only wishes left are; that the same respect is granted for Saeran’s After Ending. some are thinking there might still be a Rika Route and are still wanting to see a Vanderwood Route. i just hope, if there is a Rika Route, it is handled well and with respect and healthily. and i am one of those hopeful for a Vanderwood Route too with how much he has become involved, especially in Another Story. and, also, that their AE’s, if they get a route, end well.

i also wish that the other characters’ routes’ After Endings could have happened without any sacrifice as well.

and, i am just saying this for kicks, but if we get nine Routes, nine After Endings, the Secret Endings, the DLC’s...i would be satisfied. i also am still a believer in releasing a finale. a “Final Story”, on top of this, where everyone is equally involved and there is no one character to be pursued and it is just trying to solve the mystery that is the RFA, helping each character and helping them reach an ending where all of them are together and happy.

but that is still just my thing. and maybe they’ll save t h a t plot for the tv show. ;-)

no matter what...say Cheritz no longer updates after the release of Saeran’s AE, i will still be forever grateful to them and this game. this game has taught me a lot and the lessons i have taken from the story have truly begun reflecting in my own life. and this update was no different.

i love Mystic Messenger.

it is truly a game so much deeper than it’s surface appearance and genre. it is a bigger story than we thought...and may not always like, depending. but that comes with, no matter what, such wonderfully written characters that have taught me so much and i love with all my heart.

so thank you, again, to Cheritz and their staff. and for the kind and inspirational words that their VA’s left us as well.

and thank you to -

Hyun

Yoosung

Jaehee

Jumin

Saeyoung

Jihyun

Saeran

Vanderwood

and even Mina

and to MC

i can’t wait to see what is released next. what new additions to the story will come. and what new updates and events there will be in store. but, first...take care of yourselves, Cheritz! you deserve it. <3

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modernbookfae · 6 years

Text

ACOFAS: Discussion Time

Alright. I’ve had time to read, process, read again and evaluate. Now it’s time to take a deep breath and share my thoughts.

Things I enjoyed:

The Illyrian brothers bonding together. THE. SNOWBALL. FIGHT. Someone please draw this. PLEASE. The fact that this is also a tradition between Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian makes it that much more precious.

Feyre interacting more with Velaris and becoming closer to the citizens. Feyre experiences more growth with Ressina, a fellow artist. The High Lady of the Night Court belongs in Velaris. With her people. And she feels at home among them.

The studio and art classes with the kiddos. This is what we needed. Not just Feyre. Not just Velaris. But for me personally this was the most heartwarming part in the book.

More depth into Cassian’s past and his mother. Even though it crushed my soul.

Emerie. I don’t know how big a role she will play in the next book, but stars above let her and Nesta become friends. (Goodness knows Nesta needs a friend after everything that happened in this book.)

Lucien and the Band of Exiles. Also loved how Lucien called Feyre out for saying she can be just as cruel as Rhys. Seriously Lucien has suffered too, yet Feyre still had the nerve to tease him about the Band of Exiles??? Geez. It was bittersweet considering the friendship they once had.

The poses Cassian made for Nesta in his mind! “I will slay my enemies” and “I don’t want Cassian to know I am reading smut” are my absolute favs!

Nesta has her own apartment! Granted it’s not upscale in fact it’s quite the opposite but it’s still her own sanctuary place.

Cassian trying to balance giving Nesta space and reaching out to her. The scene where he tries to walk her home shows how conflicted he is and then frustrated when his efforts don’t work. Yet the bat still waits on her roof until she is safely home.

Elain and Azriel’s moments they shared. You can see how much Elain has prospered since she first arrived in Velaris before the war. Their friendship is truly blossoming and it was a breath of fresh air!

Nesta is able to overcome her fear of water and is able to take baths.

Feyre calls Rhys out on his BS concerning her sisters and how he treats them unequally. (She continues to reprimand Rhys when he still treats Nesta harshly in the teaser for the next book.)

Rhysand’s mother made the Starfall dress and every gown Feyre has worn. Excuse me while I go cry in a corner.

Nesta is still recovering. This goes to show that people deal with trauma in different ways and at varying paces. Moving forward into the next book should provide the stepping stones toward her recovery.

Speaking of the next book... I want Nesta to also stop the Illyrian Rebellion that is starting to unfold. Maybe she will open up to the warriors who also were affected by what they saw on the battlefield. Or even comfort those who lost their brothers, fathers and sons from the war. And hey if she needs to unleash that power we still haven’t seen yet...then so be it!

“Rhysie.”

Things I disliked:

The amount in which Rhysand thought with his lower head then the one on his shoulders. Seriously Rhys. We know you want to take Feyre against every surface...in the air...and don’t get me started on the actual mind fucking that happened.

The wall scene. Sorry not sorry.

When is Mor ever going to catch a break with her father and Eris??? Is it going to take another 500 years?

THE. BABY. SITUATION. Was this not discussed in ACOWAR? Did I miss something??? I know that Feyre said she was ok with it, but seriously didn’t you and Rhys both agree to wait before you had children?

Rhysand treatment of Tamlin. Tamlin has made mistakes, but he has done nothing to receive what Rhys did to him. What are you Rhys 5 instead of 500 years old? It was disgusting.

Actually Rhys was pretty disgusting in most of this book. There I said it and I still can’t believe it either.

The fact that most of the Inner Circle treated Nesta like absolute shite *ahem* Rhys *ahem*.

Why is slut shaming still a thing? Please explain.

Rhys smirking at Nesta’s fear when she tries to refuse his verbal command to sit down. NO. NO. NO. Anyone else get Amarantha vibes?

And lastly I understand that Nesta needed space, but someone should have spoke with her before waiting 1 year to have an intervention. It should have been done the moment Nesta walked up those stairs in the final scenes of ACOWAR. Maybe it’s a personal thing, but from my own experience you never let anyone sink into grief in such a way that it pulls them down into a state that’s so indescribable. Because once someone falls that far it’s hard to help pull them out. Granted Nesta has to make the effort to lift herself up, but it’s hard to do that when you have no support system whatsoever.

#acofas #acofas spoiler #acofas spoilers #a court of frost and starlight #acotar #feel free to comment but remember to be respectful #you can also message me #might make another detailed post about a specific topic from this book #idk yet though since i am still in a state of wtf

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guttergodsknife · 5 years

Text

Low-Key Greenhouse Crime

Rashk has made another decision likely to be marked onto his growing list of ill decisions. Instead of finding a perfectly reputable botanical supply merchant in the city, the Keeper has snuck into the Ashen Enclave and through the quiet building until he reaches the greenhouse. Where he finally stops, realising the very, very obvious flaw in his plan—he has no idea where anything is kept. Or if there even is any mandrake present, be it seeds or the full root. This is why one does not commit to snap judgement decisions while high on a blend of Somnus-related drugs.

“Maybe over …?” He mutters to himself, rising onto tiptoes to check the contents of the top shelf, though quickly finding himself woefully short and patting at the top shelf blindly instead. The old rose flower pot rattles dangerously when his hand nudges it, spelling incoming disaster.

Rhy'sae hears something—or someone—in the greenhouse as he enters. His steps quiet and he pads slowly in, eyes narrowed behind their glasses. He'd been pretty certain that he was alone in the house when he came down here, so why is it that now it seems he's not? Navigating the greenhouse, he comes to pause within sight. He can see that disaster about to strike.

His arms cross over his chest, "You're going to make a mess," He remarks dryly, his brow arched in challenge, the unwritten question of who-are-you-and-why-are-you-here writ large all over his face.

Rashk ears stick straight up and so does his tail, bristling to twice its usual size at the sound of Rhy’sae’s dry tone. “Oh, fff—” he starts like there might be a swear incoming there, but he cuts the word off and stands there like a statue for a few seconds. His tail lowers with his hand and he turns around, smiling pleasantly at the other Miqo’te while attempting to appear innocent.

“Good evening, sir. It seems I got a little lost and couldn’t find anyone to assist me,” he lies smoothly, accent elevated and precise like the one used by Ul’dah’s upper class. “Perhaps you have a moment?”

Rhy'sae tilts his head back, peering towards the top shelf, "Ah, I see," he says, tone as dry as ever, "you were looking for someone to help you on the top shelf. We do tend to keep our assistants up there, keeps them our of our hair." There's a pause there as he takes the other's measure. There's a healthy dose of unmasked suspicion in his expression, but his face smooths and meets pleasant tones with pleasant tones, "How may I be of assistance Mr....?" The tone there is an inquiry.

Rashk is suffering on the inside, though judging by his facial expression alone, one would never guess. His restless tail is another story entirely, hiding between his legs like it, at least, has the decency to feel shame for getting caught. “Well, I checked all the obvious places already,” he says with a flash of white teeth. “Thought to get more creative.” He then hums and sidles closer to the other Keeper, curiously studying him with his mismatched gaze. He brings with him a scent of smoke and something sickly sweet—or perhaps it’s the smoke that carries the odd smell. For a moment the lantern light reflects off the blown pupil of his dark eye.

“I’m Rashk. What’s your name, handsome stranger?”

Rhy'sae can't help wrinkling his nose at the scent, not certain what to think of it. His head tilts when Rashk approaches him. Green eyes stray to Rashk's tail, noting the body language. His own seems alert, slightly raised behind him. "Rhy'sae," he says, adding, "'Rhys'." His ears flick forwards, attentively trained towards Rashk. "Are you in need of healing? I'm sure I can track down one of our healers if that's why you've come."

Rashk doesn’t carry any visible weapons and anything he has under his clothes is too small to show as odd shapes even with the thin fabrics of the outfit designed for hot desert air. Though no doubt the short sleeves got chilly during desert nights. “Oh, no, no need to bother your healers. I was seeking one of your … alchemical experts, perhaps? Or whoever tends to your greenhouse? Do you have any idea who that might be, Rhys?” He purrs the other Miqo’te’s name with a smile, instantly jumping at the nickname instead of going with the longer, more formal version. His tail slowly stops hiding and flicks, supporting the suddenly flirty act.

Rhy'sae actually blinks, taken aback by the flirting. At first, he'd thought the flirty edge was his own mistaken read, but now? One ear slants back to an uncertain, quizzical stance, his own tail lowering behind him from its alert posture. He's been thrown off guard, and it shows, particularly in his face, which has turned ever so slightly redder at the way Rashk purred his name. Hurriedly, he raises a hand, pushing his glasses back up his nose as an excuse to look away for a moment as he collects his thoughts into one place. "I'm the resident botanist."

Rashk bats his long lashes for good measure if there was any lingering doubt there. When he went for an act, he certainly committed to it—and by the looks of it, the distraction tactics were working too, if the blush rising to Rhys’s cheeks was any indication. “Oh, indeed? How very fortunate!” He claps his hands together in excitement that isn’t feigned. The noise draws a flinch from him, unexpectedly loud in the night, but he’s quick to recover. Unfortunately for Rhys, his recovery involves sliding up even closer, one hand rising to try and touch the other Miqo’te’s elbow in an overly familiar manner. “You see, I was told you might have some mandrake seeds or perhaps even fully grown roots for sale? I’d appreciate the help /so/ very much.”

Rhy'sae is a little more flustered by the time Rashk has approached him. He freezes the moment that hand touches his elbow. Both ears lay back, and he takes a half-step away, unfolding his arms. The left arm, where it isn't covered by sleeve and glove, has the discolored, withered look of an old burn scar peeking out from beneath the sleeve. The 'spell' seems broken, "You want to buy mandrake?" he asks, posture shifting the left half of himself away from the stranger. Seems he doesn't like having his left arm touched. His eyes narrow slightly, "Pray tell, what do you need it for?"

Rashk withdraws his hand instantly and makes an impressive show of looking regretful, drawing his arms behind his own back as if to non-verbally assure the other Miqo’te that he wasn’t about to get handsy a second time. His gaze flicks briefly to the scar and back up to Rhys’s face, smile never faltering.

“Oh, it’s for a friend so I don’t understand the purpose entirely myself but … something to do with an alchemical process that creates a concoction capable of replenishing some of a target’s depleted aether?” A valid use for mandrake, though of course it isn’t the reason Rashk wants it—he intends to use the root for far more esoteric purposes, but he is reluctant to tell that to his suspicious new friend.

Rhy'sae can't argue with the man's claim, that's for sure. That truly is a use for mandrake. He rises a hand to his chin, thinking on it. "And how much is it worth to you and your friend?" He's recovered from the touch, his ears slowly rising once more. It seems the implications of gil have caught his attention. "Mandrake is a touchy thing to grow, as I'm sure you well know."

Rashk ‘s ears flick and his smile grows wider. “Yes, I’ve heard it’s quite peculiar about its growth conditions. And I believe harvesting it has its own challenges, considering the noise.” He pulls his right hand out from behind his back, dangling a pouch that hangs heavy with coins. Who knows where he pulled that from.

“I am, of course, willing to compensate you for your efforts.” It does occur to him that perhaps it would have been wiser to take this path in the first place, but the idea of stealing mandrake had seemed great after smoking Somnus. Now, with the immediate drug haze fading some, he is beginning to disagree with Past Self’s life decisions.

Rhy'sae glances at the coin pouch, trying to guesstimate how much it holds. "How many are you in need of?" He asks, "and how soon? There are some few here, but not all are ready for the harvest as yet." He looks away from the pouch to the other's face. He is still a little unsettled by the way in which they met, but he's willing to let it go, it seems, in the name of lucrative business.

Rashk raises an eyebrow and lifts the pouch in a manner to indicate that he’s about to toss it to Rhys and he better catch it. If the other Keeper looks ready, he tosses it over gently so Rhys might count the contents himself if he desires. “Just one root would do for now, though I might return in the future for more. My friend has a condition and likely needs to brew more of this concoction later,” he explains, with just enough hint of concern on his features to suggest that this ‘condition’ is delicate and best left private.

Rhy'sae catches the pouch with a deft hand, and takes a look inside, counting the coin with an apparent approval. "For your friend's concoction, do you need the root fresh? I may have some dried in the stores."

Rashk smiles and has no idea how much is in the pouch, but he trusts it's likely enough because Rhys isn't indignantly showing him out yet. "Ah, fresh would be best, thank you. Perhaps a jar to preserve it in," he suggests, not about to carry a potentially screaming root through the streets in the dead of night. "I take it you grow an assortment of other useful plants as well?"

Rhy'sae nods, gesturing around them, "This is not the entirety of what I work with," he assures him, "I also procure rare and difficult to find plants with medicinal natures at the source. I am well-versed in the bounties of the desert and forest alike." He steps around the other miqo'te, making his way to another shelf of large pots. He bends over it and inspects the plant there. His tail has slightly risen now that his back is to the other. He's offering him a modicum of trust, but still alert. "Hmn... I'd say less than a week before it's ready. Is that fine?" He glances over his shoulder to Rashk.

Rashk ‘s ears perk and he turns to trail in Rhys’s wake, dancing his fingertips along the nearby table’s surface absently. He hasn’t entirely given up on the slight purring syllables, though now his voice is lilting and rising musically in mischief.

“Well, aren’t you useful, Rhys. I might just do all my future herb-shopping here.”

#rp log

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nicoletteduclare · 5 years

Text

and we’re back to our regularly scheduled first draft.

Wilson had debated using a life amulet during his breakfast, as Maxwell probably didn't need his own sickly constitution worsened, but there was a problem with that. The amulet was more likely to break before it could revive him, considering all the damage the flowers had done in just under a whole day. Still, he was most likely out of touchstones, and the effigy would be quicker then fussing with a tell-tale heart after the fact.

They'd both winced as Maxwell opened up his arm, the blood keyed the effigies to their owner, and while the wound would heal... the 'magic' involved in the process kept it from fully healing until the effigy was used or destroyed.

It was done though, once the blood had hit the wooden form there was a certain feeling to the air that was what Maxwell had waved off once and expressed that it just meant it was "active," whatever is actually was however, was still something Wilson hadn't figured out and typically didn't bother with anymore. It was like asking why hair dropped from the creatures that once were rabbits, or why it took that to make one of these things. A question he'd asked himself and others before and never quite had a straight reply to. It worked though, it gave them a safety net, and while he wasn't satisfied with not knowing how exactly it worked, he'd live. Literally.

Still, it was done and Maxwell had already left to eat, muffling a cough that Wilson had frowned at. The effigy was probably going to be used sooner, rather then later. Still, the task he'd said he'd help with was done, and as tired as he was, Wilson knew he wouldn't sleep if he didn't go and do something else.

Chopping wood was an easy option, he didn't have to go too far out, he only had the last time because he needed the time to himself. But they had a pretty decent pile of wood ready for the next few days. The better option involved the caves. They kept their mushroom planters down there to survive the winter, and with Maxwell back... more mushrooms were probably always going to be a good thing, the others would soon need them as well.

Speaking of mushrooms for sanity, he probably should retrieve his pack and flower crown. The wear on his own sanity wasn't too bad since he'd gotten sleep the night before, but better to be over cautious then to end up dealing with irrational terror in the night. With a swing by the fire to retrieve his thermal stone, he headed to the tent.

At least today was almost through, once he did this one last thing, he'd probably be tired enough to pass out and not spend the whole night battling his worries. And it looked like he was being left alone about watch tonight, which was another thing to be grateful for.

The flower crown, tucked into his pack carefully as to not damage the blooms, had wilted slightly, but he took the hat off and slid it onto his head, replacing the hat carefully as to not crush the woven crown.

It was interesting, really, the importance of flowers in this world, Wilson mused as he grabbed a spear and lantern before heading out, it was likely he'd only leave the cave around twilight. Ignoring the current situation at hand, flowers were calming. Horticulture hadn't ever been something he'd been truly interested in, before the portal, but now, Wilson could see the appeal. Though, it did beg the question of why flowers? Was it just something closer to a tumor that looked like a flower that developed under extreme emotional stress?

That made more sense then magic, really. Though, sadly, the flower Maxwell coughed up even had a root structure, and it... well, it had felt like a plant, not like human flesh. It was a mystery, really, and he wondered if maybe it was something to study if they ever left this hellish place. He'd had plenty of medical training, and yet his own exposure to this was word of mouth. Wickerbottom was the same way, they'd discussed it quietly, she'd only heard from a few other people who'd encountered it, a few of which who'd treated it in surgery. There was an old grimore she'd found personally that mentioned it offhandedly, but no solution. The surgeries both claimed that there was a flower around the lungs, were risky for more then the obvious. One mentioned the patient seemed subdued during recovery. The other hadn't even reacted at a mention of their previous infatuation, a confused who said instead.

It made no sense, but that was hearsay in action. Still, with something they knew so little about...

Who really could say?

Wilson sighed and looked at the clearing where the trees parted, snow covering everything but the hole in the ground. At least the mushroom planters were basically right there, probably would need some living logs soon, but that could happen in the spring. Getting out of winter without much more chaos would be a wonderful thing.

Now, while he doubted that would happen, he certainly could hope.

The decent was easy, and the temperature rose as he got down to the cave floor, light-bulb flowers glowing as brightly as the lantern when he turned it on. Probably would be in his best interest to gather those up too, or at least a few. Mushroom planters, all sixteen of them looked healthy and full. Eight green and eight blue. They didn't bother with the red mushrooms, not enough benefits to mass farming them, besides, they were far more common.

Instead, he stifled a small cough, probably from the blistering cold, and got to work.

- Wickerbottom had pulled him aside the moment Maxwell had finally managed to get a bowl of whatever someone made in a big batch for breakfast (chili, he's fairly certain.) He'd been heading back to his tent to eat, away from everyone else, away from the possibility of questions, and instead was guided to a thankfully mostly empty campfire.

He couldn't help the light glare, he wasn't in any state though to argue. He'd been hoping to eat, make up new bedding and repair his winter clothing before twilight and then head to bed, at most maybe making another cup of tea. The coughing so far had been manageable, but keeping his throat from getting completely raw was a good idea.

It had been silent for a few moments as they sat there, and frankly while he was glad that it was Wickerbottom, he was quite fond of their conversations, he was absolutely tired of the heavy silences. He took another spoonful and finally spoke. "Might I ask why you've brought me over here?" He asked, no venom, just exhaustion.

She smiled, which normally wouldn't be cause for concern but there's a sense that this conversation was about to lead into uncomfortable waters. "Besides the fact you seem to be attempting to freeze yourself to death, after Wilson has put in so much effort to revive you this morning? I wanted to talk, Maxwell, dear, we haven't done that in a while."

"I was under the impression the less time I spent around everyone else, the better. Besides that, yes, it has been a while. I assume you can infer why." Maxwell said, not mentioning it fully in the case of prying ears. "I can't tell, however, if you're filling me in on what's been going on or about to ream me out." They've always been politely blunt with one another, no dancing around things, she was always willing to tell him off, but it was a vast difference to the formerly cruel blunt jabs with Wilson.

"Well, I probably should give you an earful about putting yourself at risk instead of talking to anyone about it, but honestly, it would be a pointless endeavor. What I actually wanted to talk to you about was what we can do about this. I have a feeling you're going to say talking to whoever it is isn't an option."

He sighed, taking another spoonful after stirring. "No, it isn't." And it never would be. "The way Wilson has been acting I was under the assumption there wasn't any cure."

Wickerbottom took a look at him, and he finally met her eyes. "It's... hm." She paused. "Surgery has been used to cure the flowers, of course, but it comes at a price, from what I've heard."

A price? Frankly, considering the other option was endless deaths, it couldn't be that bad. "What is it, then?" He asked, before failing to stifle a slight cough. Blasted things. No blood yet, though, that was a good sign. Instead, he leaned over to toss them into the flame to burn.

"Well, both accounts were a touch different. One patient seemed to have lost their memories of the person they were infatuated with, the other knew who their former beloved was, but was very uninterested." She took a pause, looking at the fire. "Frankly, though, that's not enough for any real idea of what surgically removing the growth does. There's never been much research, and not that many cases either. Or at least, not many reported."

He hummed in acknowledgement, finishing off the chili. "Well, neither of them seem like exactly great options, though the latter would be preferable." And maybe for the best, really. "Though I'm sure trying anything like that out here is going to be a right disaster in itself, mh?"

"Obviously, I believe that might be the reason Wilson wasn't huge on bringing it up, and he's sure that there must be a better way. I'm of the opinion that it's a last resort, but one you should be made aware of. You're the one suffering."

Another sigh. "I'll remember that. Is there anything else I should know?"

Honestly, there was a tiny bit of temptation to say 'blast it' and just go with the solution at hand. If they removed it, even if he had to revive, it should take care of it. But, who knew what else could occur with removing the growing plants.

"Well, there's a few gifts for you from our winter feast, I believe both of the children were hoping you'd return for it." She smiled, even though she knew how much he disliked winter as well as their makeshift holiday. Still, there was a tiny pang of guilt at his niece and Webber both hoping for his return. Pointless guilt, really. "Also, I know that you have to remake a few things of your own today, but tomorrow, it would be lovely if you could help with repairing the gardens for spring. It doesn't have to be much, but we have been down a set of hands for a while and I doubt sending you out of camp would be wise."

Ah. And there it was. The chores. He didn't doubt it would be back to it, they've all worked during the beginning or tail-end of colds, though he loathed garden work. "Fine, fine. I'll see what I can do. I do have to go attend to my own work now, however." Maxwell stood, stretching before feeling something shift and a cough starting. It wasn't a very long one, but it did hurt. Ignoring the petals in his hand, Max took a breath and spoke. "Thank you for letting me know, Ms. Wickerbottom." It was genuine. As much of a gamble as it sounded like, it was important information. It might just be for the best, it'd certainly keep him from ever acting on his feelings, by erasing them. He threw the next batch into the fire. It would be good to be rid of this burden. There was only so much he could do to manage it.

"You're welcome, Maxwell. I wish our first conversation since you've returned could have been something lighter, but we do what we must. I'll check in on you later."

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hopeishappinessff · 6 years

Text

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 39

Hope

She hadn’t explained it to me before I arrived, but here I was… back in Dr. Yate’s office like I was the one seeking therapy. I’d been visiting her more frequently lately, more so in the last month simply because it took a while for me to really warm up to her. She was a very polite and humble lady, very easy to talk to and get along with and once you actually sat in her presence for more than one session it was easy to get comfortable with her. I just wasn’t immediately comfortable with her, or more so… the thought of who she was. She was my boyfriends, or ex-boyfriend, therapist and she was the one who held the key to his recovery. Chris trusted her with some of his darkest secrets, secrets I didn’t even fully understand, so in a way I was almost intimidated by her. I couldn’t fully explain it if one put me on the spot and attempted to force me to. All I knew was that was then and this was now and now… now I was sitting across from her staring down into my lap, waiting for her to explain to me what our meeting was about today.

“How are you today Sy’Diyah?” She asked in her infamously delicately soft, yet pristine voice.

“I’m okay… how are you?”

“Very well, thank you,” She smiled warmly, “And baby?”

I couldn’t really control the bright beam I returned or the way my hands naturally fled to my protruding bump. The ongoing nausea that never really subsided as my doctor claimed it would, the fatigue that was beginning to become too much of a norm in this trimester, and even my nonstop and uncontrollable emotions were all absolutely worth it all for this little angel.

“Doctor said he’s a little underweight, but… otherwise healthy.” I said with a smile.

“Ahh, he?” Her right brow lifted with curiosity and I quickly shook my head.

“Oh no, I still don’t know the gender. Sorry… that just sort of slips out sometimes.”

Her smiled widened and she slowly shook her head, linking her hand together as expected on the surface of her desk.

“Understandable. Well, I’m very glad to hear of and see your progress. Your glow is ever-present… you’re just stunning.”

I could feel the immediate burn in my cheeks as she continued to stare at me. I still hadn’t quite gathered enough courage to handle the constant commentary on this glow that I just couldn’t seem to find… but it still left me blushing like a school girl whenever I heard it.

“I still haven’t really figured out what part of me is glowing, but… thank you.” I giggled sheepishly.

Dr. Yates joined in the laughter and after a while we both quieted down and I waited silently to hear what she had to say.

“Well today’s meeting will be brief. I just wanted to update you on the status of Christopher.” She started as she simultaneously sifted through a few papers laid out on her desk. I couldn’t deny or ignore the fluttering of my heart and the quick dance the butterflies did through my belly at the mere mentioning of his name. Of course I hadn’t spoken to him at all lately and I honestly hadn’t spoke of him much either since the talk I had with my dad. That day when I told him about the pregnancy and expressed how much I missed Chris, I nearly fell completely apart on the couch right in my dad’s arms. I didn’t like that feeling… didn’t even like the thought of almost losing complete control over my emotions. I’d been on such a good track with controlling my emotions and it was all because I basically didn’t allow myself to think about him, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be forced to.

“He’s been doing exceptionally well. There’s something there, with him… something I hadn’t really seen upon his initial arrival at the institution. It’s quite easy to tell that he lives life with much more purpose now…” I could feel myself frowning the more she spoke and for a while I really did start to think that she was perhaps insinuating that he was doing much better… because I was no longer in his life.

“Before you allow your thoughts to get too carried away,” She chuckled with a shake of her head, “Since your revelation to him of the pregnancy, his progression has simply been phenomenal.”

I’m sure Dr. Yates could definitely see it the moment it happened… but I sighed a quiet sigh of relief as soon as she finished that sentence and the smile on her face widened.

“He has had a few bumps along the way, but I had no real expectation of him being one hundred percent cured immediately. This type of situation, his particular situation, is one that must be handled with extreme care and caution and there was literally no way he could have made a drastic change overnight. But being able to see him trying, to see him working hard and following the plan that myself as well as Dr. Stevenson have put forth for him, just to witness the growth that has occurred during his time there… it has been truly rewarding and extraordinary.”

��With that being said,” She went on after a few seconds of calculated silence, “The next step to his recovery process would be an early release into the care of his mother to begin his home treatment plan.”

This time I frowned deeply and it remained, even after she gave me a reassuring smile “What?”

“Yes, the progress that he’s made at this point has really helped to expedite the process… it’s quite fantastic really, isn’t it?”

The thought of stopping my head from shaking left to right didn’t even cross my mind as I frowned, if at all possible, deeper “How is this a good thing?”

The confident smile that was on her face faltered and she blinked several times as if caught off guard by my question “Well… I believe that this will be very beneficial to him.”

“How? How will it benefit him to leave the one place that’s supposed to help him?”

Her smile was completely gone now and she stared at me awkwardly, almost as if she was too stunned to say anything immediately. Truthfully I hadn’t meant to even respond the way that I did, I intended to leave those thoughts quietly tucked away in my mind but they just… blurted out without my consent. And if I wasn’t mistaken, I could feel myself getting riled up the longer she sat there looking at me.

“I’ve monitored his behavior… I have record of the consistency he displays when in a comfortable home and family orientated environment. That is where he needs to be… that is where he will be most successful in his recovery.”

“Are you just purposefully forgetting the incident that happened in your last one on one session with him? Are you forgetting that he almost hurt you… his therapist? And you somehow think if you take him out of a restrained environment that can actually contain him when he blacks out, he’ll be better? What happens if he gets in that house with Ms. Joyce and loses himself and she’s the only one there to stop him?” I was barking the questions at her left and right and though she maintained a poker face and remained poised, she looked less than enthused to hear all the negativity spewing from my lips.

“Sy’Diyah, I just thought that… I thought you’d be elated to hear this news. I… I thought you’d want this more than anyone.” She muttered softly.

“And I thought that as his therapist, and one of the most renowned therapists in Virginia, you would know that someone like him doesn’t need to be unleashed into society right now.” I snapped and immediately thereafter pursed my lips and shut my eyes. I knew she was still looking at me, probably thoroughly shocked by my outburst but maintaining her calm nature because I’m sure she’d dealt with outbursts much worse than some emotional pregnant girl’s. Lifting my left elbow onto the arm rest of my chair, I lowered my head down onto my hand and covered part of my face with my fingers. My emotions were beginning to brew… the same emotions I’d worked so hard to maintain control over. I could feel the brims of my eyes tingling beneath my closed lids and for a moment I wondered why now of all times had to be the one time that I became a cry baby.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered in almost less than a whisper.

“It’s okay…”

“No, that was very rude of me and you mean absolutely no harm… I’m sorry. I just… I…” Before I could even think to get control over myself, I whimpered one time and the tears soon followed. I could hear movement across from me, but I was quickly beginning to lose myself to my emotions and I swiftly lifted my other hand and cupped my face in my palms before Dr. Yates could get a good look at the waterworks.

“Sweet heart, it’s alright.” Her voice was calm and soothing… almost too calm and soothing and for whatever reason, it triggered even more tears than the ones already trickling down my cheeks. I didn’t even think it was possible to cry hard while you were already crying hard!

She was at my side now in the leather chair beside me and she pulled it as close as she could get so that she could lean in close and caress my back as I continued to weep like a spoiled child. My mind roved over what she’d said… the part about Chris being released from that institute soon. In all actuality I was truly afraid for him to leave the place. Who was to say he was well enough to be back in his mother’s house? But more than the actual fear that I had for him to be back in society… I was nervous. Petrified even. I hadn’t seen him since the observational therapy session back in December and I hadn’t been allowed to speak to him since then either. The last actual encounter I’d had with him was when I marched with all the purpose in the world to his dorm room to break up with him, resulting in him having his way with my body in a way that still left me shuddering from the memory alone. And the absolute honest to God truth… I was scared to see him again.

While sitting there, crying and lost in my thoughts, my tears actually slowed down and I sniffled continuously to make sure they wouldn’t come back. Dr. Yates’s caressing hand began to slow down until she pulled back completely and I opened my now swollen eyes into a squint to see that she was sticking a box of Kleenex in my face expectantly.

“Thank you.” I mumbled hoarsely.

“If I would have known that I would trigger your emotions in such a way, perhaps I would have presented that conversation a bit more somberly.” She chuckled softly, referring to the chipper way in which she’d laid the news on me.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I just… I really shouldn’t have even reacted that way. I’m sorry…”

"You do not have to apologize on behalf of your emotions. I expect that here… I expect the emotions. Emotions are always welcome here with open arms.”

She got a soft laugh out of me then and after a few more sniffles and a quick blow of my nose into the Kleenex bundled in my hand, I released a deep sigh and glanced over at her with a tight-lipped smile.

“Um, can I… can I share something with you?” I asked cautiously.

“Anything at all.” She didn’t seem to be making much effort to go back around to her desk chair and in a way, I was thankful. She was going to give me her undivided attention with no notebook or recording device to intervene.

“I’m scared for him to leave… because I’m scared to see him.”

“I understand. One of the last major accounts that you had with him was the breakup, so I can only imagine…”

Shaking my head before she could finish her sentence, I nibbled nervously on the inside of my bottom lip and stared down into my lap “One of the last major accounts I had with him was sex against my will… aggressive sex… that wasn’t consensual…”

If I had turned at that exact moment to face her, I’m sure I would have seen her entire body go rigid with shock. But even though I wasn’t facing her, and I didn’t intend to through the duration of this conversation, I could still sense it. That wasn’t the route that this conversation was supposed to go… and I’m sure she hadn’t expected that at all.

“Sy’Diyah…”

“Chris raped me Dr. Yates. He raped me… then he tried to kill himself because he did it.” There it was… for the first time since I merely mentioned the topic to Destani, I addressed it fully from start to finish… the entire cause and effect. And somehow once the truth spilled from my lips, I could feel a weight lifting from my shoulders. I didn’t burst into tears like I’d expected and for a while, Dr. Yate’s didn’t say anything.

“I… I’m very sorry that that happened to you,” She paused and I wondered exactly what was on her mind and I prayed that she didn’t think I was lying, “I understand how it feels to be forced into a situation like that.”

Slowly I turned to face her and I stared at her… and the sudden saddened expression on her face. She gave me a smile, but the dismay was still clearly evident all over her face.

“I can sympathize with you, in a way Sy’Diyah. Well I can sympathize with that part of your situation… we all have a story.”

She shifted a bit in her seat then her hand suddenly projected out to me and I looked down at it as she gripped my right hand in hers “My story entails a man who I thought I could trust and perhaps even love because… I was told he was going to be my new stepfather. And it also entails a girl from the age of ten years old being forced to endure such terror for six years straight until she gained enough courage to run away and never look back.”

I gasped sharply as I turned to face her only to witness her somehow manage to school her sad features so that she could maintain her warm smile. Her eyes were glossed and it was as though I could see the years of pain and hurt right in her stare, but I could tell she’d spent quite a bit of time learning to control her emotions… unlike me.

“But yours… your story entails a beautiful young lady who, because of the decision to love and love hard at such a young age, has been wrapped in a whirlwind of emotions and love and fear and angst and all things far from her control because of a passion that I’ve never even witnessed amongst couples older than I. You… you were dealt a hand that seems to have been out of your control because of the way in which you fell so drastically in love, it seems as if it was destiny really. And that’s okay, isn’t it? To fall so deeply in love, that you sometimes feel as though you are simply ill… that all thought and rationale goes right out the window because this love is what’s leading you on this journey through life.”

Of course I sat there with silent warm tears now rolling down my flushed cheeks with her hand still clutching mine. I was sure that I would have trembled right out of my seat if it weren’t for her grasp… everything she was saying had me trembling from the inside out.

“How difficult must it be to feel so madly in love with someone, the same someone who… shares the face of the one who harmed you in such a way. I cannot begin to comprehend that feeling Sy’Diyah… there probably aren’t many who can. The trauma, it’s there… it’s etched into your body and your mind. The mental and emotional reeling… it won’t be a walk in the park to overcome if not for you, but for the sake of your unborn seed. The only truth that I can bestow upon you is that it is your decision, and yours solely, whether to proceed forward with anything pertaining to Christopher at this point.”

It was too much to bear, really. The damned truth that she was reciting into my ear. It flowed so fluidly from her lips and truly made me sit there for a moment to appreciate her craft and innate ability to console someone while guiding them just precisely enough to help them to console themselves. I felt like, perhaps the longer she spoke so beautifully to me the easier it would be for me to cope with all that my life and his had become.

“Will I be a fool for loving him Dr. Yates?” I asked in an unsteady whisper, “Will I be stupid for trying to make it work again?”

Her hand slowly slithered out in front of me and I watched as she pulled my limp right hand up from my lap and raised it to press against the left side of my chest “Ask your heart that… for I am not the one who holds the key to it.”

I knew what she meant… I understood it completely. And there was no further explanation or discussion about Chris and his premature release. She let me know then that the ball was in my court and she would not coach me into any decision. I had to figure out now or never whether I wanted to go back and pray that things worked out between us… or whether I wanted to let go of the greatest love I was sure I would ever know… my happiness.

Life continued on as normally as it possibly could, because well… it had to. I kept up with my studies as if it was a job and never slowed my pace with the tutoring sessions. It really did wonders to help keep me distracted from my life and my thoughts. I still hadn’t made much of an effort to be around anyone, especially Destani. For some reason, I truly believed the only thing she would have to offer me was pity and that I did not want. So I continued to do everything that I could to avoid her… until today.

She called and texted a few times sporadically throughout the day, but she must have grown tired of my lack of responses and even as I sat in my favorite hidden corner of the library drowning myself in textbooks and notes… she eventually managed to hunt me down, much to my surprise. In the most polite, yet demanding manner possible she even managed to con me into joining her for a girls night back at the room. But, again, much to my surprise the moment we set foot in our dorm room I was yet again caught off guard by the presence of Cammie, Angel, and Tawny who I’d seen even less of than Destani. They gave me a solid thirty minutes to get spruced up and somewhat decent before dragging me right back out of the dorm and off of campus completely. Somehow we ended up at some intimate restaurant with dimly lit lights and live jazz music. To my own surprise, the longer I sat there with them talking and laughing and basking in the ambiance of their positivity, the more I actually began to regret neglecting them so much.

The girls were so patient and understanding though and they barely even made mention of any of what was going on. The only thing they could focus on for much of the night was this over dramatized glow they swore I had and the baby bump.

“Girl just looking at you lowkey make a bitch wanna get pregnant too. I’m telling you, you were gorgeous before but you are fine as fuck now!” Angel exclaimed as she causally leaned back in her seat across the table from me. I laughed and shook my head at her because she was honestly just pulling my leg now.

“I would really hope you wouldn’t decide to go get knocked up because you think it makes women look better Angel. I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” I laughed.

“No, no boo… what she means is looking at you make a bitch wanna get pregnant because you make it look good. Not all pregnant bitches turn out to be fine as fuck.” Destani cackled loudly, tossing a hand up to her right to high five a snickering Cammie. The entire table erupted into laughter then and I could only continue to shake my head at their antics.

“When is your due date love?” Cammie asked after they took a moment to settle down.

“July fifteenth.” I smiled broadly and held my head high then, because I was always thrilled and proud to talk about my little bun.

“You know what you’re having yet?” Angel asked.

Eyeing her quietly, I shook my head with a sheepish smirk. I was getting further and further along and was constantly questioned about the sex of the baby, but I refused to find out until Chris was at my side. Of course there was no way I could stop or slow down time to allow him to be right there with me like I knew he would want… so the least I could do was save the gender reveal just for him.

“She’s waiting for baby daddy to find out.” Destani said, cutting her eyes at me with a smirk.

“Speaking of, how’s he doing Sy?”

Turning to face Tawny, I sat there for a moment contemplating exactly how to respond to her “I’m honestly not sure.”

“What you mean you not sure? I figured you probably talked to him every day, at least twice a day even.” Cammie giggled as Angel chuckled softly and nodded and Tawny stared at me completely confused.

“Well I… I’m not really allowed to speak to him. It’s a part of his treatment plan…” The largest knot was beginning to form in my throat and it felt almost too painful to complete that sentence. I didn’t want to cry because I’d been doing that entirely too often lately, but having to sit there delving into a topic I’d been trying to avoid for the past few months wasn’t something I was really prepared for.

“Are we gonna order food now or what? The waiter is on his way back over here.” Destani blurted before anyone had time to utter another word. I shot her a sorrowful glance as I breathed a sigh of relief. She literally just saved me from making a fool of myself because I was sure if the conversation continued on, I would simply fall apart at the seams and I was beyond tired of people seeing me as such an emotional wreck.

The waiter eventually arrived to take our orders and after assuring us that our meals would arrive within twenty minutes, he sauntered on about his way.

“I visited with Dr. Yates earlier,” I started, simply because the news that she’d shared with me couldn’t be contained much longer, “She actually told me that he’s gonna be released soon.”

The girls all erupted with excitement… well the girls minus Destani. She didn’t have to utter a word for me to sense her apprehension. The same apprehension I’d felt the moment I learned of this momentous news. But I guess perhaps I’d now come to terms with it… the reality that sooner or later I’d be facing him again.

“That’s awesome Sy! I know he’ll be thrilled to be able to finally be active in the pregnancy.” Tawny beamed. I often forgot that before we learned of our kinship, she’d become pretty close to Chris and she did indeed view him as a close friend.

“Yeah from what ya’ll have said, I don’t know that I know any other nineteen-year-old niggas who would be excited about having a new baby. But that boy loves everything about yo ass girl… he’ll probably love your placenta once you push that out too!” Cammie cackled. Once her comment fully registered, we all burst into laughter that had me wiping at the corners of my eyes. Even Destani giggled quietly to herself before abruptly gathering herself and clearing her throat.

“Sy, where is he going when they release him?” She asked.

“To his moms.”

“So… when will he come back to school?” Tawny asked quietly.

With a sigh I nibbled on the corner of my lip and stared absently across the table “I don’t know Tawny… I don’t know.”

Exactly twenty minutes later our steaming plates of food arrived and we fell into casual banter as we ate. It was a genuine night of fun for me, hanging out with my girls. No chaos of weaseling our way into some loud and obnoxious club, no worries of unnecessary hangovers the next day, no additional drama whatsoever… just a nice quiet night of good food, good conversation, and plenty of catching up. I missed this with them and as I sat there nibbling into my food, I couldn’t help but glance around the table at each of the girls and smile softly to myself as I recited a quick and silent prayer to thank God for such dedicated and beautiful friends.

Once we finished up our meals and sat quietly slumped in our seats for a while allowing our food to digest, I successfully managed to whine just enough to get the girls to drop me off back at the dorms before they made their way back out into the night to head to the movies. They begged and pleaded to get me to stick it out with them, but I’d learned only a few months into the pregnancy that my body simply could not last the way it used to. For no reason at all other than the fact that it was now pitch black outside, I was dog tired and ready for a soothing shower and a night of Netflix until I dozed off.

After they dropped me off, and made a point to make sure I made it all the way upstairs to the room, I tossed my purse down on my bed and immediately stripped down to my bare skin and baby bump to head into the restroom. On the way there, I couldn’t help but stop at the mirror just outside the bathroom to gawk at my reflection. My head tilted curiously as I stared at my morphing frame and I felt a smile curl onto my lips at the sight. With my hands planted on each side of the hardening bump, I adored the feel of it against my fingertips. I even imagined the father of my little seed standing there behind me, grinning from ear to ear as he reached around me and gripped lovingly onto the bump… our bump.

Lately, I tried desperately to keep thoughts of him at bay. The only way I could keep myself composed and not delve into a downward spiral of depression was only if I simply didn’t think of him at all. It wasn’t as though I forgot about him, because that was something I couldn’t even do if I wanted to. I just… I missed him, so much. Yet, when I learned of the news of Dr. Yates wanting to get him released early because she no longer felt the institute was where he belonged, I was scared out of my mind of the prospect of him being back in the real world. My feelings toward the situation were like night and day… on one hand I feared for his release and the havoc that he could potentially wreak. But on the other… I missed him. I missed every little thing about him. And most of all, I missed the feeling of him holding me, or just touching me and while he held me… telling me how much he loved me.

I promised myself I wouldn’t shed another tear any time soon, because I’d spent so much time crying I was sure if even one tear fell I’d completely dehydrate my body. But what I hadn’t quite realized was that I was standing there with my eyes closed, relishing in the thoughts swarming my mind. I’d gotten so caught up in my own fantasy that I longed to fulfill and I allowed myself just this once to think of him… I could feel the heat tingling beneath my closed lids. By the time I opened them, a single tear drifted down my right cheek and I felt the strongest urge to unleash a hundred more.

With a deep and frustrated sigh, I roughly swiped a hand up against my cheek and abruptly swung around to enter the small restroom. I only lasted in there for a solid seven minutes… didn’t even bother to properly wash my hair which had become damp from the steam of the hot shower. My mind was too far gone down memory lane and the longer I remained isolated in the tiny space, the more I could feel my emotions brewing. I refused it though… I refused to fall victim to the pain of the memories of the love of my life. Chris… my Charlie… the man of my dreams… the monster of my nightmares. He haunted my every thought while I stood in the steady stream of the water and I needed to escape it and fast.

Shutting off the water before I could fully wash the suds from my shoulders, I stepped out into the open space just outside the shower and grabbed a plush white towel to snuggle myself in. The moment I swung the door open and stepped into the chilly air of the room, I could hear the muffled sound of my ringtone from the other side of the room. With a huff I took off barefooted toward my bed and quickly plucked the device out of my purse just before it neared its last ring.

“Hello.” I greeted completely out of breath.

“Hi baby girl! You alright? You sound like you been running.” The sweet sultry voice of my aunt rang out into my ear, instantly leaving me to break out into a beaming grin.

“Hey Auntie. I’m fine… I just got out of the shower.”

“Are you at the dorm alone?” She asked curiously.

“Yes ma’am. The girls left just a bit ago to catch a late movie. They tried to talk me into going, but I’m entirely too tired and I’m sure I would have fallen asleep before we even reached the theater.” I giggled.

“Honey, are you sure you’re alright?” The tone of her voice combined with her lack of laughter was just enough of a clue that she was well on her way to what she often referred to as a ‘motherly rant’, “I don’t want you just hanging out around that campus alone. It would be nice if at least one of the girls could be around with you. And why are you so tired Sy’Diyah? Have you been sleeping and resting up in your down time like I told you to? Baby, Auntie’s not fussing… I’m just trying to make sure you and my little bun are taken care of.”

She ended her rant with yet another signature phrase… the one where she claimed she wasn’t fussing. I couldn’t help but smirk as she went on ‘not fussing’ at me. Just knowing that she cared enough to go out of her way to make sure I was okay and well taken care of warmed my heart and made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m okay Auntie, I promise. I’ve always been one to get pretty tired as soon as the sun goes down, I guess it’s just been happening a lot more with all these extra hormones. But I wouldn’t lie to you, I swear I wouldn’t… everything is okay down here and I don’t want you worrying about me.”

“Baby girl, I’m sorry but you know I will always worry about you; especially now with the baby on the way. You know the offer still stands Sy’Diyah… as soon as you give me the word, your father and I will be there in a heartbeat to get you packed up and back home with me.”

I sighed and plopped down on the edge of my bed. She was starting to do this to me on a daily basis and I was really wondering when she would give it up. I knew she meant well and she was only looking out for my best interest, but I also didn’t want her to feel like I wasn’t capable of taking care of myself. The day that I visited my dad and revealed the news to him and Diana, I received a call from my aunt the same night asking if I had anything to tell her. Apparently, in true Diana fashion, she was just so overwhelmingly excited she contacted my aunt immediately to discuss the news. What she hadn’t quite realized, however, was that I had never gotten around to actually telling her myself. The moment I fessed up to her and explained just how far along I was, I almost thought that she’d hung up on me because she got so quiet on the phone. It scared me initially because she ended up cutting the conversation short without even bothering to discuss the pregnancy.

She waited two days before calling me back and bawling to me about how sorry she was for reacting that way. She explained that she was utterly shocked to hear the news and that she was honestly disappointed at first and blamed herself for me ending up pregnant at such a young age. Not to mention her fear of me possibly having to raise a child alone because no one knew what the future held for Chris. These were her fears, but what I expressed to her that day was that I shared the very same fears. Perhaps no one fully understood how thoroughly terrified I was the moment Destani read the positive results of that pregnancy test to me. No one knew of the countless nights of sleep I faced because my Charlie wasn’t here with me and I had no idea when I would get him back. My fears seemed to go on forever and they really didn’t seem to have an end in sight, but through it all I knew I had to hold it together no matter what… for the sake of me and my baby.

But all fears and concerns aside, she said that she was ultimately happy for me and over time, her excitement quickly began to rear its head… along with her constant need to check in on me every day… and her unrelenting habit of trying to talk me into coming back home.

“Auntie,” My voice had dropped to nearly a whisper as I shut my eyes and sighed through my nose, “I’m fine here. Everything will be okay.”

She released a sigh of defeat, as she did every time I declined her offer “Well I won’t continue to hound you about it Sy’Diyah. You’re old enough and mature enough to make your own decisions and remember that I will support you through it all, okay?”

“Thank you Auntie. I really appreciate that.”

“Now, onto the real purpose of this call… Chris’s release party!” I could feel her grin practically radiating through the phone and though any other time I would have been smiling just from the thought of her smiling, I found myself frowning at what she’d said.

“What? What do you mean his release party? Is he being released soon?” I nearly catapulted into panic mode at the thought alone. Dr. Yates had merely mentioned to me the prospect of him leaving the institute soon, but nothing she said seemed definite.

“Yes! Well, according to Joyce anyway. His final hearing with the committee up at the institute is in a few days and they’ll find out for sure then. Joyce did mention that the preliminary hearing didn’t go as smoothly as possible, but his in house therapist and his therapist there at the school have been working nonstop to ensure he goes home to Joyce. I have such a good feeling about this… I have been praying like crazy for that boy and I just know the Lord is here to answer all of our prayers to bring that baby home!”

There was no way I could tell her how awful that news was, at least to me. I didn’t want to add anything else to her plate to stress over because of me, but I also couldn’t bring myself to relish in the same excitement she seemed to have.

“What day is the final hearing Auntie?” I asked, on a much more somber note than her.

“I think it’s on Tuesday, if I’m not mistaken. And if they release him, he’ll get to go home on Saturday.”

“Well that… that’s good. I um… I hope everything goes well.” I mumbled. However, my aunt seemed so caught up in all the hype of Chris going home, she didn’t even seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm.

“And, here’s the greatest part… Joyce even reminded me that you still don’t know the sex of the baby because you’ve been waiting for him to find out. So she suggested that we make it like a surprise reveal party for ya’ll too!”

It was then, and only then, when those last few words left her mouth did I feel a dollop of excitement. The prospect of being on the receiving end of him when he walked into the house the day he got released… standing there watching him and the surprise that was sure to be on his face, genuinely thrilled me. The thought of being able make his first few moments home one of the greatest moments of his life by revealing to him the gender of the love child we’d created together left me sitting there smiling like a fool.

“… And we were thinking maybe a backyard barbeque and we could set up some music. Not anything too big, but we wanna make sure we have every single one of his loved ones there… oh he’ll just love that!” My aunt continued to ramble on about the plans her and Ms. Joyce clearly already had in the works. I hadn’t heard much of what she’d said because my mind was still clouded with the completely fabricated image of how Chris would react. For once I felt like I could finally have a reason to be absolutely thrilled to have him back home and I clung to that reason, because I felt utterly ashamed of the fear that I had of seeing him again.

“Anyway, let me stop talking your ear off and let you get some rest. But I’ll be calling you as soon as we hear something after his hearing to get your travel arrangements all situated. I know you’re happy baby, because I'm happy… hell, we’re all just happy to have that boy home. He don’t belong in no crazy house… he’ll be just fine right at home with his mama and we’ll make sure he’s perfectly taken care of.”

I giggled softly as my aunt continued to ramble on and once she finally wished me sweet dreams and bid me adieu, I eventually tucked myself away in my bed and allowed the sweet thoughts of my love to lull me to sleep.

#chrisbrown #chrisbrownff #chrisbrownfanfic #jasminesanders #chrisbrownfanfiction #jasminesandersff #teambreezy #teambreezyff #fanficion #fanfic

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culpible · 6 years

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alex + romance / don’t reblog.

this note is in my rules, but i wanted to explain it a bit more in depth. romantic shipping will be incredibly rare on this blog, and it’s highly unlikely that i will ship with any canon character besides @freedtruth. she and i have been talking about this ship for over a year now and we’re comfortable with each other in terms of where both of these characters are mentally and how much more time is needed for anything to truly develop between them which is so important to these two characters. especially in my verses for season 1-2, i will not be shipping him with anyone. alex is not in the right headspace to be in a romantic relationship. he’s still in recovery, he’s still learning how to be himself again, and he’s still putting his memory back together and rediscovering all there is to what led him to do what he had done.

in season 1, a majority of these canon characters literally added to the way his mental state had deteriorated. they disagreed on how to respond to the claims made against them. alex was begging to be punished for what he had done, going out of his way just to get in trouble for something hoping it would soothe that ache ( provoking m*nty to fight him so he could get in trouble for fighting, driving too fast on the highway so he could get a speeding ticket, etc. ) whereas, a lot of the others on the tapes were willing to do anything to ensure their secrets didn’t get out and they didn’t get in trouble ( getting clay kicked out of school, threatening to murder him, etc. ) though he doesn’t have all the memories from his time after hearing the tapes and to his attempt, he does understand what they had inadvertently done to his mental state. he takes full responsibility to where he got, but the constant desperation for getting in trouble and refusing to have anyone listen to him / hear him out / agree with him was another hard hit after another. no matter how much growth there has been with these characters, i can’t see alex finding any sort of comfort with them romantically after all that’s happened.

he’s also in love with jessica. he has never fallen out of love with her. he knows the mistake he made when he used a petty, mindless comment about her to ‘ get back at her, ‘ but it had never truly been about her. that was br*ce’s list, and alex felt embarrassed because jessica didn’t have sex with him, so he couldn’t fit in with the popular crowd the way they were trying to mold him to. i have always headcanoned him as a virgin, someone who doesn’t care about having sex / when he has it, he just hasn’t yet. it didn’t matter to him when he and jess went that far, but it mattered to the people around him. he wanted to fit in, he wanted to have something to brag about to fit their mold, so when he didn’t get it, he fought back ( he’s an impulsive person with anger issues. he acted on that impulse, and it ruined him. ) the category didn’t matter to him; it was just an open category, so he took it. likewise, it had nothing to do with hannah. she was just the first name he thought of, and he knew that would get under jess’s skin. everything that fell apart between he and jess was based on his desire to impress these friends that weren’t worth it, and he takes responsibility for that, and he knows that he likely doesn’t deserve jess anymore ----- but that doesn’t stop him from being in love with her, at a distance to respect her own wishes.

in season 2, he is on the road to recovery, and jess is one of the most stable grounds for him. she’s someone who knows him, understands him, and someone he’s comfortable with. she reminds him of a time before things had gotten messy with him; before he had screwed things up with her and hannah and with himself. he doesn’t know who he is anymore; he has severely lost so many parts of himself through season 1 and now after his coma, but when he’s with her, she makes him feel it’s possible for himself to get back on track. she doesn’t look at him as if he’s fragile; she doesn’t look at him as if he’s broken, and he desperately needs that right now. he can be lighthearted with her and feel like the weight that’s on his shoulders is gone, at least for a while. what’s more important to him than anything is that she has a friend and that she has a support system. her needs often come before his, and he pushes himself to be better ( and to remember what he has lost ) to help her, more than he needs it all to help himself. he has always wanted to be with her, but i don’t think he’s in a place to really commit to that kind of romance. love won’t instantly cure everything that’s going on with him now, but her friendship has been a huge part in his recovery. i don’t think jessica loves him back in that way, and i think it’s going to be difficult for him to process once he realizes that, but he’s going to make a bigger effort to keep her in his life, no matter what way it is, this time.

the same goes for zach ---- i know this has become a popular ship, but their friendship is so dire to alex right now that i can’t fathom ruining that for a romantic ship. like i said, he’s in love with jess and i don’t see that drifting from his mind for anything, but even so, that friendship with zach is so necessary to him. it’s someone who is physically trying to constantly help him get better, someone he can be himself around. right now, a friendship is what he needs more than anything. he is not in the right mental state for a romantic relationship, and i think trying so hard to make it work with jessica all too soon is proof of that. they didn’t have it all worked out, they didn’t really think about it ----- all alex knew was that he loved this girl and he needed something positive to happen to him / something he could succeed with, but a relationship is not the way to go ( at least, not yet. )

i see alex as pansexual and demiromantic, meaning he likes people based on who they are, regardless of their gender, but having a connection with that person is more important to him than anything. he can’t just fall for a stranger / someone he hardly knows. he likes to have a stable ground with them where he can truly know them and fall for him that way. it’s why he fell so hard for jessica. she was his best friend. he was instantly attracted to upon first meeting her, but he never acted on it because he didn’t feel that connection until he got to know her. it’s also why he made the comment in never have i ever, insisting that he had never kissed his best friend. it wasn’t a joke, it wasn’t him playing around. he knew that eventually that would lead to kissing jess, so he took an opportunity where he saw it.

shipping is possible only in completely au verses when he’s in a better mental state, but he is not in the place for it in any canon verses, whether it’s with a canon or a noncanon character. he needs to focus on getting himself better first, whilst also helping the others in their circle recover from the trial and their own baggage. the trope of a sad, broken character fixed because he fell in love isn’t something that interests me and feels like a disservice to a character as important as alex. i just wanted to post about this to explain in hopes that no one is expecting to ship with alex because his recovery is 1000 times more important to me than relationships right now, even if he’s stubborn and would hope to move on to the latter instead.

#don't reblog /#this was going to be a psa but then it turned into a lot of random hcs its fine #in short: im not interested in shipping with ppl in a canon setting but thats prob obvious considering his mental state #you know what alex needs! platonic friends!!! friends he doesnt push away!! give me those!!!#°. ⁽ ʰᶜ ⁾ –– does ash recall when it turned to fire / does it long to burn again?

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dgarski · 3 years

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One year back In the early morning hours of January 23, 2020, I set off to find my way back home to Florida. It was a monumental moment in my life as it represented growth, perseverance, determination and strength. The road was long behind me and before me. I had been through my version of hell. Now, it was time to go home. Healing

The time it takes to heal can vary from person to person, depending on the wound. Some may never fully recover, while others heal in a relatively short period of time. Sometimes, physical recovery isn't necessarily the only part of the healing process. The mind itself might need far more time to heal. In some cases, this could take many years, or never at all. I think that time truly does have a way of slowly healing most wounds; at least to some degree. The way we perceive hurting physically as well as mentally, can change dramatically over time. Allowing ourselves the time to grieve and process the pain, can help us move forward, and get on with our lives.

Loss

When we are recovering from a dramatic change in our life, a significant loss may be connected with this change. We might lose ourselves. We might lose our identity, our purpose or in a worst-case scenario, we might lose our will to continue on. Some might never regain their will to move forward; and instead fall slowly into deep despair and depression. When we lose something or someone, there is a period of time that we must process the mourning. There is no statute of limitations for this time period. Depression

Depression is a very real sickness for millions of people. Once thought of by many, as nothing more than an excuse for someone to be lazy or non-productive, it has since become more recognized as a significant illness, studied through education and research. Depression has a way of pinning you down when you are already on the ground. It can feel like a tremendous weight covering you from head to toe. Time seems to feel insignificant. The days and nights seem to pass without measure. For some, sleeping and hiding in the dark, seem to be the only viable escape from the pain of reality. Sometimes, prescribed medication can have a negative effect on the body, both physically and mentally. It takes a great deal of strength to pull oneself out of the darkness and into the light. Unfortunately, not everyone has this strength.

Recovery and finding strength

Once the healing and recovery process has begun, it becomes a very long road to wander. With help and understanding from family and friends, this process can be expedited. The decision to heal, by finding inner strength, determination and perseverance, can make a world of difference in the duration of the recovery. Having an attainable goal and unconditional support, will help make a world of difference in the healing and recovery process.

Stages

I went through all of these stages of healing and recovery, for ten months in 2019. I went through depression, anxiety, anger (lots of anger), identity crisis and loss of purpose. I was completely lost. I had to learn that processing all that had happened to me, was going to take a long time and a lot of patience to get through. Something deep inside me, something I never knew existed, literally took over my life and pushed me to get through some of the worst days, weeks and months of my life.

Old stomping grounds In those beginning months between March and July of 2019, I took long walks around my old neighborhood. I walked to the beach and sat down on a bench and stared out at Lake Michigan. I wondered how my life had gotten to that point. How in the world did I lose everything, and somehow end up in Wisconsin? How did my entire life just get completely erased? How was I ever going to get it back? I knew I didn't belong in Racine anymore than anyone in Racine belonged in Florida. Racine was my home when I was growing up. I felt like a complete stranger in my old home town. So much had changed since I moved to Florida. Once I had been cleared by my doctor to drive again, I got my freedom back. I drove around town to places I hadn't seen in well over three decades. My memories of what used to be, were quickly shattered by the realities of just how much had dramatically changed, so drastically. Ironically, as much change as there was, so much more still remained the same as it had always been. The more I saw, the less I wanted to see. I had to find a way to make a lot of money, and make it fast.

Going back to work Once I had made up my mind about my goals to make as much money as possible, in as little time as possible, I set out to work as many hours as I could, plan as much as I could, and figure out a way to get my life back, by moving my life back home to Florida. Once I began working, I went into an almost out of body approach to getting through the next few months. I was on 24/7 auto-pilot. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. I honestly never knew I had it in me to push myself so hard. I had never been so motivated in my life. The more I worked, the closer I was to leaving.

Winter

Winter came, and I shoveled snow for the first time in over 30 years. It was also the first time I had driven in snow, in over 30 years. I had to relearn how to do it. Some things, you just never forget. The cold was almost unbearable. I was always shivering. I have always hated winter, no matter where I was. Except on my days off, the only time I saw daylight was when I was working. I'd go to work at 4am, and it would be dark outside. I would leave work at 4pm and the sun had already set. I was in a mental mode of pushing through, regardless of how uncomfortable I was. I had to tough it out as long as I could. I had an ultimate goal in place, and there was no turning back.

Finding my new home The holidays came and went, and I finished my work days at the hospital. I saved enough money to move back to Orlando. Now, I just needed to find a place to live. My last day of work was on January 4th. The next couple of weeks would be about me finding an apartment in Orlando. I was on the phone and the computer, nearly every waking moment I had. It was a frustrating endeavor, but I didn't give up. Finally, I found something that would prove to be the place where I would call my next home. Leaving

Everything was finalized and ready to go. My new apartment was waiting for me. I was to move in on the 24th. This meant that I had to leave in the early morning hours of the 23rd. I planned, I packed, I mapped, I collected, I prepared, and I got almost no sleep. I hadn't been this excited in years! I was remembering doing this very thing, in February of 1988, the first time I moved to Florida. This time, it was different. I was only going to be able to take with me what I could fit inside my tiny car. The rest, I would have to come back for at a later date. I loaded up my car and filled every possible space I had inside and in the top rack carrier. The car was ready, I was ready and so it was time to go. I wanted to disappear quietly, like a thief in the night. I said goodbye to my family and I set out, in front of an oncoming blizzard, at 12:30 in the morning.

Hitting the road

I waved to my parents as they stood in front of the big picture window in the living room. The snow had already started coming down, but I was pretty sure that I would be ahead of the onslaught before it got to the great lakes area. I stopped at the gas station, programmed the Waze app to guide me back to Florida, then set out to the interstate. I remember thinking how terrifying this actually was, and how anything could happen to me at any time. Somehow, that feeling of terror slowly disappeared the further south I drove. Leaving so early in the morning, meant that traffic in an oncoming blizzard would be minimal. No sleep

The hours before I left, I tried to sleep. I think I slept an hour or two. I was pumping on adrenaline the first 8 hours of driving. By the time I got to Kentucky, the sun was already up, but the exhaustion was beginning to make my eyes close at 65mph. I had to stop and get some rest. I pulled over at a wayside, somewhere in the mountains of western Kentucky. I parked down to the end of the lot, away from the bulk of tourists and other motorists. I fell asleep for about two and a half hours. I woke up and started the car and got back out on the road. As soon as I got to Nashville, the rains came. It rained all the way down to Georgia.. I stopped several times to try to sleep, but I needed to actually lay down. I could not do that in my car because it was packed so full. Instead, I took short naps and continued on.

Florida

On January 24, 2020, I crossed the Georgia/Florida border at around 5am. A couple of hours into Florida, the sunrise came. It would be the first Florida sunrise I would see in over ten months. My eyes welled up and I smiled. I knew that I was only a few hours from Orlando. The morning rush hour was in full swing. The traffic was a bit of a challenge. I made it to the Florida turnpike and headed towards Orlando. Slowly, things started to become more recognizable. I exited onto the 408 tollway, and headed east towards town. I was home!

Moving in

I pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex just before 10am. I met with the office manager and we finalized the paperwork for my apartment. I moved all of my stuff from my car into the apartment. I had nothing in the way of food or cooking utensils or housewares, so as exhausted as I was, I went to the only grocery store I could think of, which was Target. I was running on instinct by this time. I was so overly tired that I just ran on auto-pilot, again. I purchased as many things that I could think of and spent almost $150.00. The apartment turned out to be a very old, disappointing shoe box, but it was home. I finally had my independence back. Going back to work

Getting my job back, was nearly effortless. Everything fell right into place. I was able to get my security license renewed in about 20 minutes. I then drove over to the office and met with my bosses. We finished the transfer paperwork and I got a start date for retraining. Everyone was so welcoming. I had my identity back. I went to training and started my OJT. I got my new schedule, and now I had my purpose back. I must have told my story to a hundred people at work. I answered a thousand questions. I shook hands, got hugs and a lot of congratulations for cheating death and making it back.

The Beach 2020 was a year that most will never forget. It certainly wasn't what I was expecting to come back to. I had a list of things I wanted to do, but the bullshit virus halted just about everything. I did make it to the beach, once. I did the best that I could to comply with what some were calling, "the new normal", even though there was nothing normal about any of it. The day I made it to the beach, I saw hundreds of beach-goers there, and none of them were wearing face masks. I thought of this as a good sign, that maybe this "corona" garbage would soon be over and we could go back to our real, normal lives. Well, I'm still waiting. Going to the beach was a liberating day. It was the end of my journey from losing myself to finding myself again. I still have so far to go. The process continues 2020 also meant a year of mental healing. I knew that I had a long way to go, to let go of my past and try to do something about creating a future. This process has been very difficult. Letting go isn't an easy process, especially when the things and the people you must let go, used to mean so much to you. The answers to why these things happen, will more than likely remain a mystery forever. When you are given little choice, you choose what is best for you. What was best for me was to get as far away from where I did not want to be, and do it as quickly as possible. This was going to be the only way that I could begin the process of mental healing. I needed to be in my own space, quiet from the rest of the world. I've been very lucky to have a select few people in my life, who have helped me vent my frustrations. Talking with others and sharing my story, and my thoughts and feelings, has been a very good therapy for me. Where do I go from here?

There's really only one direction...forward. Letting go of the past allows me to embrace the future. In one year, I have gotten most of my life back to normal. I have my 40-hour a week job, I have a handful of guitar students on my days off, and I am investing in cryptocurrency. I'm hoping to have a chance this coming summer to drive back up to Wisconsin to retrieve the rest of my belongings from my parents house. I love to drive long road trips. It frees the mind. There is a nice, quiet solitude when you're on the road. Doing 2500+ miles in less than a week will definitely be a challenge. It's something I need to do to put closure to everything. I also want very much to find a woman and do a lot of beach days. Home

I drove 1250 miles from Wisconsin to Florida. The drive took roughly 23 hours (not including rest stops). I drove in a blizzard from Wisconsin to Indiana and torrential rains from Tennessee to the Georgia/Florida border. I made it. I am home. Orlando, Florida is home and always will be. One day, I may move to another part of Florida, perhaps closer to the beach, but Central Florida is where I have lived for most of my life. I am happy to be back where I belong.

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