#so it feels so short but i do dump a good 50 hours per game. so not Long but not short

[orcelito]

I take back... SOME of my negativity about fe:engage. Now that I'm out of prolog hell I have decided the fun eclipses the annoyances. For now.

[purplesurveys]

382

-What was the last song that you sang out loud? I played a Destiny’s Child playlist when we were out for a bit earlier so I was most likely rapping along to Bug A Boo before we got home. -If someone has bad breath, do you tell him or her? I don’t think I can. I’d rather just not have my face directly on them when talking. -With which friend are you most likely to share a secret? Angela. She knows e v e r y t h i n g. -Do you have an item that comforts you when you are sad/scared? My...phone? Haha. If I get anxious I need to watch videos to distract me. My phone has YouTube. Also bracelets that Gabie has given me over the years. -When are you likely to hide your emotions? When I’m with people that don’t really know about my anxiety. People I’m not close to, in general.

-Which is scarier: Dying of thirst or of starvation? I think both are equally terrifying??? Both put the body in immense pain and it goes through a slow, agonizing shutdown and I don’t even want to think about experiencing other lol. -Who was the last person to take your breath away? MY GIRLFRIEND -When you turn on the TV, what channel do you flip to? Probably a movie channel but I legit have not watched television in yearssss. I watch everything on Netflix now. -Have you ever tried to help someone quit smoking? No. -What was the last comment someone made on your music taste? I don’t have much of a music taste so it’s not really something people tend to make comments on. -Where do you go/what do you do when you need to calm down? My room. Or to my best friends. -What was the last mess you cleaned up? I had a stack of readings and stationery scattered all over the dining table last night when I was studying, so I cleaned everything up before going to bed. -Have you ever had to talk anyone out of suicide? Yes I had to talk to Toby because he made a series of disturbing tweets a couple of weeks ago. We aren’t close per se, but he’s an orgmate and therefore a friend, so I messaged him immediately. I’m happy it worked, cos he showed up to school the next day and gave me a bear hug. -When you think of tomorrow, what feelings come to mind? Work. -Who, in your opinion, has an amazing voice? Hannah sings a lot, and I really like it when she does because she sounds great. -Would you ever camp out on a beach, under the stars? Of course.

-What is the last thing you complained about? I need a printer to print out my readings (I absolutely cannot study from an e-book) but ours has been broken for years and there’s no Internet/printing shop nearby. UGH I’m serious about complaining over not being able to study haha.   -What was the last curse-word you said? Fuck. -When you fake sick to get out of school, what do you say or do to convince your parents that you are sick? I would never fake sick to my Asian mom.  -How did you recover from your last bout of tears? I slept. As is always the most effective way to stop crying. -Do you still talk to your very first best friend? Yes. I talked to her last night. -When was the last time something went terribly wrong? Well a couple of weeks ago Gab and I had a huge, really serious fight that had just been unfixable–it was the kind of fight that you just had to wait. And the wait was torture. I was really scared then and I stayed in bed for what was probably 48 hours and ate like two times in that period. -How do you console someone when he or she is upset? I stay with them and listen to them if they have to let things out. -Have you ever seen either one of your parents cry? Just my mom. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw my dad cry. -Choose one: Trip to outerspace, or trip underneath the oceans? OUTER SPACE. I’d do anything to have a glimpse into my astronaut dream. -How often do you feel overwhelmed? 7 days a week. -How do you deal with everyday life? Get by. Aren’t we all forced to? -Do you have any secret obsessions or guilty pleasures? I don’t think so. I’m never guilty of whatever it is I’m obsessing at the moment haha. I am into serial killers, like reading and watching docus about them; and obviously I never announce it the world unless it comes up in conversation. -Aside from on this survey, what was the last thing you wrote about? I was writing down notes on my readings from my Southeast Asian history class. -Who in your family do you act like the most? I’m a mix of my mom and dad. I seriously can’t tell you who I act more like. There are certain phrases my mom says that I say, and certain intonations and mannerisms I got from my dad.  -What is the most romantically sweet thing someone has done for you? I’m into intimate, more between-the-two-of-you kind of stuff, so I always appreciate it when Gab volunteers to drive my car if I ever drink a little bit too much for the night. She helps me get to bed and gets me some clothes to wear too, which is always sweet.

-When you go out to the mall, do people stare? Not me, but my girlfriend and I obviously will get stares from time to time for holding hands. -Have you ever been confronted by a mall cop for your behavior? No. -What just tears at your heartstrings? Videos of dogs reuniting with their owners, abused dogs getting saved and all groomed up, or dogs getting adopted. -Is there a show you swear that you will never watch? GAME OF THRONES -What was the last topic that you ranted about? The lack of a printer that I delved on several survey questions ago. -Is there someone that makes you feel like you're walking on eggshells? Jane lol. She’s the president of our org and will easily get pissed the fuck off sometimes, and it never does my anxiety any good. -Were you ever afraid of one of your past teachers? Yes. We had this monster of a PE teacher in 2nd grade who would literally kick down doors if she gets angry and would yell at 8 year olds. How she ever got employed in the first place still baffles me. -Have you ever been in a physical fight on school grounds? That’s a huuuuuge no-no in our school, so no. Plus I came from an all-girls’ Catholic school; it just wasn’t in anyone’s nature to pick a fight. -Have you written anything in a bathroom stall? What, if anything? No, I feel so iffy about vandalizing in public. -Is your school like the drama capital of the country? HAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHA. You can say that, damn. -A homeless man asks you for 50 cents; how do you respond? I give them a little more and a snack if I had any. -When was the last time you visited a thrift store? I don’t remember. I don’t think I have? -Was there ever a time when you wished you'd never been born? Always. I didn’t even choose to be born lol. -Can you handle constructive criticism? Uhhhhhh only if it’s from someone I truly respect. Otherwise I can honestly be a big baby about criticism. -Who is the most sensitive person that you know? ME. Also one of my friends, Mils. -Have you ever had a tooth (or teeth) pulled? Nope. -You can have one famous person's wardrobe; who do you choose, and why? Kate’s!!! She dresses so well and looks pretty in all of her outfits. -When was the last time you wrote someone a note? I think December? Aya was down in the dumps pretty bad so I dropped her a short message on Facebook to let her know that I’m always around for her. -Do you tell your parents before you go somewhere, or just leave? I ask permission. Duh. I’m Asian.  -What was the last thing you tried to get out of doing? Agatha’s birthday party. She’s a good friend, but I’m not friends with any of her friends and I just can’t relate with the college block we both belong to. I scheduled a date with Gabie’s dad on the same night because I didn’t want to go to the party. -On average, how many surveys do you fill out in one day? If I had a lot of time, I could fill out three. Nowadays it’s like once a day/a couple of times a week. -How many hours a day do you spend on Bzoink? I don’t stay on Bzoink; I just go on there to look for surveys. -Which season do you dread the most? I hate Philippine summers. -Do you ever brag about your achievements? Oh god never. I hate putting any attention on me. -If someone makes fun of you, are you able to laugh it off? Tbh no, I’m pretty sensitive and serious in that aspect. I mean I’d smile to be polite but will most likely be whispering something evil about them in my head hahahaha. -When was the last time that you watched the sun come up? Three years ago, in Sagada. -What did you do last Halloween? I think I went out with Gab that day, but it wasn’t to celebrate Halloween. -Last Thanksgiving? -Last Christmas - if you celebrate? I like how Christmas has the *if you celebrate* disclaimer but the North American-centric Thanksgiving doesn’t. Anyway, we had several family dinners and we ate and drank and caught up with one another. -How did you celebrate the arrival of the new year? Also saw some relatives and ate and drank and bonded with my cousins. -Is there a foreign culture you'd like to learn more about? I’d like to know more about all of them if I had the time and the chance. -Have you ever (purposely or accidentally) played with someone's heart? I possibly might’ve with Mike but I don’t want to be an ass and assume. -Has anyone ever played with yours? Sure, you can say that. -Have you ever seen a famous painting and thought "I could have done that?” Not famous, but expensive ones. The ones that are paint splatters hah. -Fire drills: Did you ever wish they were real ... just once? LOL YES. I’m terrible for thinking that but yes. Mostly because everyone was such kids about it and never took the drills seriously. I secretly wanted a real one to happen just to see those people regret not being any more serious.

-What is the scariest thing about attending your school? Nothing’s scary about UP. If you’re scared to be in UP you can’t survive in it. -Are you a good judge of other people's intentions? Meh. I can tell sometimes. What was the last thing that you felt strongly about? I’m not so sure, it’s been a while. -Shopping: best with friends, parents, bf/gf, or alone? Girlfriend. -What is one insecurity you have about your body? Teeth. -What is one part of your body that you are proud of? My overall figure. -When was the last time someone told you to turn your music down? Ages ago. I’m getting old myself and don’t want my music too loud lmfao. -When you don't know how to spell a word, do you look it up? Yes, of course. -Are you one to spend a lot of time in the bathroom? Nope. I hate making people wait. -Have you seen the movie Super Size Me? No. -Do you still eat at McDonald's, regardless of that film? I’d probably continue eating at any fast food establishment even if I watch a billion documentaries exposing them, being completely honest. -Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a different race? Sometimes. -Do you ever consider the challenges other races go through? Of course. Except for one snowflake race out there, lol. -When was the last time you doubted your abilities? Now? -At your favorite restaurant, what do you order? I don’t pick favorite restaurants. -What was the last thing you wished for? A DAMN PRINTER. -How many times a day, on average, do you look at the time? Too many. I’m perpetually impatient.

[m3gz77]

2x4

Part Nine Pairings: Bucky/Asset x OFC’S? Warnings: Drug use, language. Words: 2,651. Summary: Asset watches Rydian while Bucky is away. Authors Notes: This story has ruined my sense of self. Enjoy.

Rydian

I woke screaming. I shot to a sitting position feeling like his hands were still all over me. They weren’t. I wasn’t back there. I was free. I looked around the room vaguely recognizing it as if from a dream. pulling my legs to my chest I hugged them and rubbed my lip, lightly rocking. I took slow deep breaths, calming myself. My eyes focused and I could see him, the masked man. He was lounging on the floor, leaning against the wall across the small room, one leg stretched while the other was up supporting his metal elbow. He glared at me from behind his hair, looking angry; per usual, but there was also… concern? Maybe worry? But why?

“What happened?” All I could remember was his hands on my face wiping my mouth and then nothing. “You passed out.” He said, thanks that helps so much. “For how long?” “Seventy-seven hours.” “For three days?!” I looked to my stomach as it growled in hunger and I saw all the bandages on my arms. So he had cleaned me up again. Then my stomach dropped. He had changed my clothes again too. Now I wore black shorts and one of his big black t-shirts that hung off my shoulder, my boots were nowhere to be seen. I gulped. He clearly didn’t have problems with boundaries and personal space at all. Fine. If he didn’t than I wouldn’t. I stood up; too fast, my head was dizzy. I steadied myself and walked to the groceries. I found a water and more power bars. Thats all he got? He does know I can’t live off of this crud, right? I drank and ate while he silently watched me. His eyes following every move I made. He reminded me of a cat again. A big grumpy cat watching me and waiting for his chance to attack; or just to be a jerk again. I opened the second power bar and bit into it, he did nothing but sit there watching me. It made me uncomfortable, people didn’t stare at me like that, people barely even noticed I was there at all. Not him. No he had to unblinkingly glare. Blarg. I felt like squirming in my skin. Why couldn’t he say something, I would even rather taking his orders than sit here under his immobilizing gaze. All he ever seemed to do was shove me around and bark orders at me like it was all he knew how to do, but then other times he was different. He was softer, sadder. It was like he was confused about something important. In this moment however he was calm , only his eyes moving. That meant he might not push me around, at least for a little while. It took me some time but I built up the courage to speak and resist the urge to rub my lip. I didn’t know where to start or what might set him off. I figured go big or go home, right? 50/50 chance he kills me. Good enough. Not like my life has an upside at this point. “Are you some type of assassins?” He replied immediately. “Yes.” He was supposed to say no. He was supposed to say that he was like a special agent or something. I wanted him to make me feel better, his answer only made me feel was. I took a slow breath. Its fine, I’m fine. It doesn’t matter. At least he’s talking. “Is that why those people tried to kill us, because you killed someone?” I asked him as steadily as I could manage. “No.” Okay? “Who are they?” “Hydra.” His voice tightened. “Who’s The Hydra?” “Our boss.” He stood abruptly and left me alone in the room. Apparently The Hydra is a no-go for conversation, and what had he meant ‘our boss’? I don’t have a job. While he was gone I searched all the bags, I found my boots along with new clothes. He had gotten a pair of woman blue jeans and a black tank top, there was even a pack of underwear and socks. Fudge… Did he? I lifted his shirt up and pulled the band on the shorts down. Thank crud, I was still in my panties, I lifted the shirt higher. My bra too, good. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I looked to the door. He was there glaring at me and an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. I snapped my eyes to his, he was looking at the scar on my stomach. I stood there with my shirt up and shorts down like an idiot for far to long. I let them both go, hugging myself and rubbing my lip. He had my bag in his hand, walking over to me he shoved it in my hands. I took it and he pulled my lighter from his pocket sliding it in my backpack. He watched my face the entire time waiting to catch my gaze, and searching my face. I refused to look him in the eye and after a few intense moments he went back to his side of the room to lounge against the wall and watch me.   I definitely needed a cigarette; I always did after a close encounter with him. I pulled one out and lit it. As I smoked I got dressed. His shirt was huge on me and it made for a good shield. I turned away from him, my cigarette hanging from my mouth and pulled my arms in through the sleeves. I removed the shorts and underwear before tugging on a new pair of back panties and a very tight pair of jeans. They hugged me everywhere and I felt uncomfortable in them. Naked. Exposed. I grabbed the tank top and stepped into it pulling it up my legs instead of over my head for obvious reasons. Adjusting the tank top I pushed my arms back through his sleeves. I bent to grab for my socks when I heard him rumble behind me just inches away. When had he moved? I stood straight and turned to face him. He looked annoyed again. Grabbing the hem of the shirt he pulled it over my head and held it in my face with a growl. “Mine.” He huffed at me and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. He walked back to his spot and sat back down the shirt now resting over his metal shoulder. Rude. He was the one who put it on me. I glared at him and smelt something burning, looking down I saw the cigarette that had fallen out of my mouth when he took the shirt off me. I picked it up and put it back in my mouth huffing back at him as I sat down.   I put my socks on and found my brace in my boot. After I laced everything up I put my cigarette out on the sole of my boot and tossed the butt in the corner. I sat on the floor when I was done and dumped my backpack out. I rubbed at my lip as I worked. I checked my notebook, pens, wallet, etc. I made sure everything was there and undamaged. I moved all my things out of the way, that stuff wasn’t what I was looking for. In the bottom of my bag I had a hidden pocket, its where I kept my really important stuff. It was like my lockbox and so far no-one had found it not even the scary assassin, which was weird because he seemed to notice everything. I took out my wad of cash, it was only a few hundred bucks but it was all I had. Next I pulled out my mothers key. It went to her wardrobe the my sister and I would play games in as children. Last I pulled out my final hidden blade. It was old; from WWII. It had been my fathers from when he had served. It was all I had left of my family and I always kept it close. I rubbed the old metal with my finger before placing it on the floor and sliding it over to him. He raised his eyebrows, but I didn’t give him an explanation. I just shrugged, it was clear that he would eventually find it and I didn’t really want to kill him anymore because I no longer felt like running. So what was the point? I went back in my bag and grabbed the thing I was really looking for, my one hitter. It was a small wooden box with a fake cigarette pipe in it. I smoked pot on a regular basis to help with many of my numerous mental issues. It helped me relax and right now I was anything but relaxed. I pulled out the cigarette and packed the bowl thankful he hadn’t taken my lighter back yet. I lit it taking a big hit and puffed out. On my second puff I heard his chest rumble. Oh Blarg. I took one more puff as he stomped over to me. He snatched the bowl and lighter from my hands before grabbing the case and stomping away, tossing my stuff in his bag before sitting. Rude. I was going to argue but suddenly I didn’t care. I plugged my iPod into my portable charger, and turned on my music while it charged. I put my earbuds in and used my pack as a pillow. Grabbing my notebook I wrote down everything I could remember about the last few days until I passed out, not caring that his eyes never looked away from me.

Asset

He needs to wake up. Now. I cannot tolerate this fucking girl anymore. She is so weird, and aggravating, and noisy. She never stops and she never makes any fucking sense to me. All I want to do is strangle her and stop all of the annoying fidgetiness. But no, I can’t do that. I was fine before because she had been compliant, then again she was unconscious. For 77 hours she slept and Bucky stayed hidden away in our mind. It wasn’t bad, I enjoyed the silence, but she constantly moved and made noise in her sleep. It was grading on the mind. Then she wakes up screaming, interrupting my semi-peace like a fucking banshee and questions me? Then she helps herself to the supplies without asking and fidgets the whole god dam time like a nervous little bunny. I tried not to be bothered by it, I knew that normal civilians had to eat and sleep regularly. We only ate when we were told too, why didn’t she? She clearly wasn’t a normal civilian so she made no sense to me. She looked antsy. Her skin almost vibrated with nerves, it agitated me to no end. Why isn’t Bucky walking up? He’s so much better at managing her than I am. I watched her eyes as she ate when determination flashed in them, I knew the talking was next. “Are you some type of assassin?” She asked, I was ready for her this time. “Yes.” Fear flashed in her eyes but she still continued. “Is that why those people tried to kill us? Because you killed someone?” “No.” I could tell she was waiting for more but I didn’t want to explain. She was lucky I was talking at all. Talking is Bucky’s thing not mine. “Who are they?” Easy. “Hydra.” I could feel my voice catch. “Who’s The Hydra?” That was a harder question, they were many far and wide. They dominated and controlled everything, including Bucky and I. I wasn’t fully paying attention as I answered her but I should have been. “Our boss.” I shook our head we weren’t allowed to talk about this, any of it. Im done talking. I got up and left before she could ask anything else. When I came back from checking the perimeter and grabbing her bag she had our shirt held up showing off her chest, and her shorts pulled down her panties peeking out, and her delicious scar on display. That beautiful scar that always made me curious. Sure I could have looked so see how far it went down when I changed her, but with both of them unconscious it would have been no fun. She couldn’t fight me and Bucky couldn’t try and resist. I would wait to see it, much like she chose to wait for us to take off the mask. I gave her her backpack and lighter, maybe that would shut her up for a while. She changed into the clothes I had gotten for her, she tried to keep our shirt but I took it away from her. It was ours. She was quiet after that dumping her pack out on the bed and playing with everything all while rubbing her dam lip. She started to pull stuff out that I hadn’t seen before money, a wooden box, a key, another blade. She worried at the blade with her thumb for a moment before she slid it across the floor to me. I gave her a questioning look but she didn’t give me any explanation. She made no sense. First she fights us at every turn and now she willingly gives up. Had we broken her so easily? No. She was already damaged. We just made it worse. I was pulled from my thought as she flicked her lighter. At first I thought it was another cigarette, but then I could smell it. She was smoking marijuana. We had smelled it before at Hydra, they had locked us in a chamber and covered us in the heavy smoke. Then came the pain. I started to growl at the memory, it wasn’t a pleasant one. Yet there she sat inhaling purposely. As I stalked towards her she even took a greedy puff of it. I threw all of it in my bag and sat back on the floor watching her to make sure she didn’t try anything else. She got quiet after that she seemed to focus, like everything outside of herself didn’t matter. She put her music on, it was so loud I could hear the beat of it. She lay on her side using her bag to prop herself up and she started to write in her notebook. Her eyes becoming more and more hazy as she wrote. I could see the drug washing over her mind. She wrote for hours without a word. Her body shifted to the beat, and sometimes her hips or shoulders would rock. Her fingers never stopped. They would fidget with the pen if it wasn’t on the page, other than that she was mostly still. I relished in the moments. At some point I had closed my eyes and just listened to the beat. Occasionally she would sing; horribly. But she hadn’t in a while, too focused to notice the music, no doubt. “It was like, she was screaming, so I killed her.” Suddenly she was speaking loud and clear her voice startling me enough to jump up ready for an attack. I thought she was talking to me at first and then I realized she was copying her music. I thought about what she had said and how she had said it. ‘It was like, she was screaming, so I killed her.’ She sounded so calm and playful as she said it. Without a care, I knew how to handle her now. I  would train her, subtly, until she was just like me, and then Bucky would have no choice but to give into his darkness.

@whitewolfbumble

[rockpapertheodore]

My brain’s been weird today, please take this word dump about why i’m a mess of a human being

I’ve written out a bunch of personal posts on tumblr and facebook today only to delete them because I don’t 

like

idk dude I always feel like when I start talking or getting excited about something that I’m intruding or bothering people with my unnecessary baloney even though it’s like

I just think of all the times when people have told me to shut up, or actively ignored me, and it fucking kills me. Like i know there are more people in my life that have encouraged and even enjoyed me talking at and around them, but it’s the few that were malicious that fuck me up, dude.

Like, 2014 was a really shitty year for me. If someone asks how I managed to fall into alcoholism so hard, I can point at two things. A) Genetics. I’ve seen my families and I’ve been to our gatherings. One half is the fun-loving, beer-drinking, moonshine-brewing redneck sort who are there for a good time, and that time is all the time (at least, that’s how it seems like to me). The other half are middle- to upper-middle class people who are overly-obsessed with pettiness and family politics, and most of them seem desperate to drink just so they can tolerate each other. The other reason is B) I spent a majority of 2014 in the presence of a man who was bombastic and ambitious, with massive, far-reaching goals and a vision that was incredible in scope.

and he treated me like absolute dog shit.

I was degraded. Constantly. Harshly. My ideas were stupid or nonsensical. He insulted my dad’s parenting ability because I wasn’t confident or didn’t know how to change my oil or my tires. I was to blame for things going wrong. I was lazy and unmotivated and stupid.

I literally dropped everything for this man to help him work on his short films, school projects, and, ultimately, the feature length film that we spent over a month shooting -- one full week at the beginning of the month of nonstop filming, and then broken up shoots over the next 6 weeks because everyone in the cast and crew had to return to work or school. I watched several people show up on the first day of filming only to ditch the second day because of how abrasive he was, and, at the time, I sympathized with him, because they just didn’t understand and were hindering him and the movie. I listened to him rant about how unmotivated these people were, how simple and content they were with mediocrity, despite one of them being a professional make-up artist and fashionista of the sort who travels across the country to work for models and makeup companies, and the other just being a college kid who was super passionate about music and sound mixing. I stopped hanging out with friends, playing video games,  and pretty much doing anything independently, really. When I went to a movie, it was with him. We’d spend entire nights in the corner of an IHOP or the truck stop editing and working on projects. I spent hours upon hours listening raptly as he told me all about filmmaking and his opinions on subjects and things he learned.

If he weren’t straight, you’d think we’d been dating. I was infatuated with this man and his ideas. There were nights where he’d call me down to his car to verbally berate me, and I didn’t know if I just wanted him to kiss me, fuck me, or just finally beat the shit out of me just so he’d stop screaming at me. I can take physical pain --  I mean, shit, I like physical pain. It’s visceral and real. I grew up doing every sport I could get my grubby little hands on and I spent a lot of time climbing on shit, falling, flipping. My hands used to be one massive callous from gymnastics, parkour, larping (electrical tape grips can do a number on you after a few hours). Physical pain I could handle just fine, and it’s something I understand.

I couldn’t take the emotional pain. I was a fucking failure at every turn with this man. I went up to a pack and a half of smokes a day. I started drinking more and more beer, and eventually just started buying liquor because it was cheaper and could get me even more drunk. The few times I got to go out with my friends to the bar earned me a full inbox of texts from him about how I was wasting my time and money and how stupid I was to drink at a bar. I once owed him about $900 after my truck had some issues and I’d blown a tire, and after we’d agreed on how much I’d pay him back per paycheck (which, keep in mind, were terms that he set for me and left me with about $50 after every check), I’d gone out with my friends to the cowboy bar that one of them was obsessed with, my phone died, and when I got home and charged it, there were 3 voicemails and my inbox was full of texts of him screaming about how if I had the money waste at the bar, that I was effectively wasting his money because I could have given him the fifty dollars he’d left me with. Never mind that he was allowed to make excuses as to why he had to delay paying me back again and again because he spent the money on his projects, by god it was his money that I owed him that we’re talking about. I literally showed him my bank statements and check stubs showing him that the only money I had was the fifty he’d let me keep. I had to defend myself and my actions constantly. 

He said right to my face that we weren’t equals, making it very clear that he was miles above me. He told me I was lazy and stupid, and condescendingly told me that it was okay if i was content with being a loser. There was no way I could understand his ambitions.

It was after he told me that we weren’t equals and I was beneath him that I realized that the whole situation wasn’t right. I spent more time with him than I did at home or work combined. I opened myself up to him. I gave up sleep and spent hours with him in his car as he talked about his problems and his life. I talked my dad into helping us build some equipment. I betrayed my dad’s trust for him to help make this movie by taking my truck before I’d gotten insurance back on it, which seems like a minor issue but my dad had helped me buy the truck, and had talked his friend into fixing the carburetor for cheap. My dad had done nothing but help me and the only thing I needed to do to get my truck was put insurance on it, and I betrayed that trust because I was putting his needs above my dad’s very simple request. It still messes me up so bad that I can barely talk to my dad anymore. I didn’t very much before then, but that’s just because it’s never been easy with my general mental illness and disposition to remember to call people. Now it’s difficult for me to be around him because I still feel hideously guilty about the whole situation.

It absolutely threw me for a loop that after all I’d done for him, not because of any ulterior motives, not because I wanted that easy meal ticket to success that he was so guaranteed to bring me, but because he was my friend and I wanted to help him because he not only needed it, but it was fun, that he’d treat me like I was nothing. Tell me in so many words that I wasn’t worth the stress that I caused him because of my negligence and ignorance.

And it was fun. By God, it was fun. I loved so much being on set, shooting the films, reading the scripts and working with the actors and the crew and the camera and everything. I loved it. I loved the late nights shooting and the long days driving between locations. I loved being in front of the camera, behind the camera, on the computer and recording devices watching and listening to what we’d recorded that day. I loved it so much, and it was honestly the best thing that had ever happened to me up to that point. It was absolutely, unabashedly, unequivocally incredible.

And now I have this painful aversion to it. Revulsion. I’m subconsciously terrified and passively apathetic to the whole process.

He poisoned it for me, God damn it. 

He’s poisoned me.

I’m sorry for word vomiting so much, it’s just some stuff that’s really been haunting my mind and I can’t seem to resolve it. My nightmares involve him coming over, and everything is just fine and he’s better and I’ve forgiven him. I wake up in a cold sweat those nights, my heart racing, one hard thought away from crying.

In two weeks, I’ll be seven months sober, and as time passes without alcohol to suppress my emotions, I’ve been able to more clearly think about them and process them, and I just needed to put some of these thoughts into words.

I still can’t see his name without suppressing a shudder, or talk about him without feeling nauseous and my anxiety spiking. I check and double check the white pages with every unfamiliar number that rings my phone in case it’s him. I can’t go to IHOP anymore without having a panic attack. I can’t go to my favorite coffee shop anymore without having a massive breakdown, because I’m so afraid that he’ll be there or he’ll walk through the door. 

I’m so afraid that I’m broken and I can’t be fixed.

I know it’s not true, but the terror is there, and, in the back of my mind, he’s there, too, and I’m so afraid that he’ll never leave.