#the problem with Instagram is that people will send me reels which I hate already but then they'll also the most unfunny thing ever

[neverendingford]

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[bronzeagepizzeria]

Get To Know Me

Thank you for the tag, @demdifferentstories-29 !

What is your name? Niyati

For how long have you had this account? since 2018, i think? only started using it during the pandemic though

Favourite food? i have a massive sweet tooth, so anything sweet, really. also pizza

Favourite drink? i don't drink anything interesting xD just water and even then a bitch is severely dehydrated

Do you have any siblings? yes, one older sister

Do you have pets? yessss i've got three cats!!

How old are you? 19

How many languages do you know? i'd say i'm most comfortable in english, but i can speak hindi fluently as well. i understand tamil entirely and sort of understand marathi + a few words of kannada bc i lived in bangalore for 13 years

What's your all-time favourite movie/tv show? fav movie has got to be the godfather part ii. i've watched it a million times. fav show will forever be game of thrones, no matter how badly it crashed and burned. i really imprinted on that shit lol

What are you enjoying to do in your free time? read fic hahaha. or watch movies. recently i haven't managed to watch anything except reels on instagram though, send help

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? mostly an introvert, but i think i'm just bad at small talk. i don't have issues with public speaking or anything, and i can talk about stuff i'm interested in for hours and hours to virtual strangers xD

Your favourite music genres? i don't listen to a lot of english music tbh! i'd say pop? mostly i just listen to film soundtracks and bollywood songs

Your dream place to visit? i used to be fuckin OBSESSED with australia as a child so i hope to still go there? but i'd like to visit all over, really. i haven't travelled much. definitely wanna experience living in the US/UK for a while. i plan to do my post-grad abroad

Something you wish you were better at? not procrastinating. it's a serious problem

How long do you take to respond to texts? immediately lol. sometimes i respond to ao3 comments within minutes, which must freak people out

Do you have any tattoos? If not, would like to? nope. look in theory it's a cool idea but i'm famously indecisive and if i can't even settle on a pfp for more than a month i just know i'm gonna pick a tattoo and end up fucking hating it

What's your sexuality? straight

Do you like reading? If yes what's your favourite book? i don't read much anymore, unfortunately. but i want to get back into it

Have you ever been in love before? ehhh no. i usually just trick myself into liking someone i suspect likes me lol

What's your relationship status? single

Have you ever been heartbroken? nah

Best memory you could think of? this question is super hard for me lol. recently my roommate and i did an hp rewatch and she asked me what memory i would rely on for my patronus and...i literally do not know. like i've had a decently happy life, but nothing stands out, you know? there isn't any one instance i can think of like that

Worst memory you can think of? same thing again. my 2023 has been so fucking bad it's not even sad to me anymore i just find it genuinely funny. but it hasn't been all bad either? i really don't know if i've just repressed my emotions for this year or if i'm over it already lol. maybe it'll come back to bite me in the arse later

Do you have any fears? moths and butterflies (i don't discriminate) i also don't like small birds/plants that are beginning to dry up/balloons losing air. i was a weird kid

Are you a morning or a night person? oh, night definitely. i spent the entirety of last year getting like 2hrs of sleep a night and napping during class

How many pictures do you have on your phone? 5001 + my icloud has not been backed up in 462 days

Who was your favourite childhood crush? first guy i ever liked was shahid kapoor. first guy i actively fantasized about etc has got to be chris evans. the captain america movies were my personality for a long time in middle school lmao

Are you a romantic? hmm i don't think so. i have pretty old-fashioned tastes when it comes to love and romance i guess, but i think i'm more of a cynic

What’s your dream date? showing my s/o movies/shows that i love. honestly that's my love language

What are your hobbies? i draw a little, watch movies, read fic. i used to play professional-level badminton but that hasn't been fun for me in a long time :(

Tagging: if you read all the way and you feel like it, go ahead!

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

Here We Are, Born to be Kings - AUgust Day 9

Title: Here We Are, Born to be Kings

Author: Purple_ducky00

Rating: Teen

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: Rhodey/Tony

Square Filled: G2 Dramatic Proposal

Link: Read on AO3

Summary:  Prince James is in love with Lord Tony Stark, a childhood friend. However, the Starks have been disgraced due to embezzlement charges. Can they overcome this?

++++++++++

“Your Highness. Lord Stark is here to see you.” Quentin Beck holds up his nose.

 Prince James Rhodes rolls his eyes. It’s not like Beck should judge. He was only hired because his family was in serious debt.  Tony is working out of his.

 Tony walks in a few minutes later, hair askew. “Wow, Rhodey, your servants hate me. I call it an achievement.”

“They just think it’s ok to judge since their scandals happened long ago enough for people to forget. You don’t deserve this.”

 “I probably do.” Tony shrugs. “It doesn’t bother me. Actually, it gives me the chance to ditch my politeness because they already dislike me.”

 “Oh for that luxury,” Rhodey sighs. He hates the protocol he must go through. Maybe that’s why he finds Tony so refreshing.

 They first met at a football match. Tony was on the other team, and he told the young prince, “We’re not playing any easier because you’re the prince. So, be ready for that.”

 Rhodey laughed and started playing. Tony’s team was clearly better, and they defeated Rhodey's team easily. After the game, Tony invited him to grab some lunch. They have been fast friends ever since.

 Now, Rhodey is 22 and Tony is 21. Tony’s father died last year, and Tony inherited his estate. After going over the numbers, Tony’s godfather, Obadiah Stane informed him that Howard had been falsifying records and was basically bankrupt.

 Dazed and reeling from his parents' sudden death, Tony doesn’t know what to do with this information. He reaches out for help, but as Howard had been stealing money from his peers, everyone refuses to help him. Rhodey offers to bail him out completely. Tony won’t let him. He decides he will work to pay off his father's debts.

 Tony was always incredibly smart. His patented inventions were used worldwide. He decides to start his own company, Stark Enterprises, where he builds and sells hi-tech machinery and entertainment devices. As his company quickly grows, he branches out into clean energy and satellites. Not even a full year after starting his company, Tony is very successful. With only Stane and his PA, Pepper Potts, at his right hand, Tony makes sure that he himself takes care of the books. Every entry is painstakingly entered and checked by the big boss himself.

 Rhodey is very proud of his friend, but it seems that his family is the only one in the kingdom that is. King Terrance and Queen Roberta love the young man as a son, but they often wonder if he is taking on too much, causing his sleepless nights and unhealthy eating habits. Tony waves them off saying he had had those problems before his parents had died.

 Prince James’ PR agent tells him that finding someone to date might be a good look for him. Everyone is looking for news of the royal family, and they will only assume the worst if they don’t hear from each member. Queen Roberta’s cooking classes and bingo games are televised. The king does a podcast twice a month. Jeannie plays tennis professionally. James is the only one without a big public profile, and he prefers that. However, there are some people who think that James is being pushed out of the spotlight or being abused in some kind. To quell any quickly rising rumors, Rhodey agrees to attend sports matches and talk to the press for a few minutes each time. When Tony’s not working his ass off, he often accompanies Tony.

 What Rhodey doesn’t tell his PR agent is the reason he doesn’t date. He is hopelessly in love with Tony and admitting that would be bad for a few reasons. 1.) Everyone in the country is against Tony. They would slander his name even more if they thought he had got his “money-grubbing claws” in the prince. 2.) Tony is straight. He had never told Rhodey otherwise, and he has only dated women as far as Rhodey knows. 3.) He doesn’t want any reason to make Tony uncomfortable in the only place he is welcome other than his home. So, he skirts the topic because fake dating is not his idea of fun.

 Now, Tony’s here and Rhodey knows he’s giving Tony heart eyes. “So, you’ve got a day off from me. What’s the plan, Rhodey?”

 “You pick today. I’m up for anything.” Rhodey trusts that Tony won’t do anything Rhodey can’t.

 Tony sits on the chair beside Rhodey. “I need to sit. I don’t think I’ve stopped moving for a week.”

 “So, what you’re saying is you need sleep.” Rhodey retorts.

“No, I need to spend time with my Rhodeybear. We never did that Star Wars marathon after Rise of Skywalker came out, did we?” Tony pokes him. “We can order like tons of pizza and greasy foods and bro it out like the old times.”

 Stuck in a theatre room with only Tony and highly unhealthy food? “Sounds like a great day. Let’s queue up the movies. I’ll have |Miss Cabe order our food. The usual?” Tony nods and heads off to the theater.

 Rhodey pulls out his phone and texts a maid, Bethany Cabe, to place an order for the following: an extra-large bacon pizza, two orders of cheesy curly fries, mozzarella sticks, and onion rings. Rhodey has cases of Tony’s favorite beer, so they did not need to worry about drinks.

 As they settle in to watch the movies, Tony tells him, “Wake me up if I fall asleep. I don’t want to miss Episode Six again.”

 “Come on Tones, Return of the Jedi isn’t the best.” Rhodey smirks.

 Tony glares at him. “It’s my favorite. Leave me alone. Go ahead and like Empire or whatever one you like the best. Geez.”

 “You know mine is Episode Three. The tragedy, the pain, the John Williams’ scores? A masterpiece.”

 “Anakin deserved better.” Tony mumbles as he eats a bite of pizza. Rhodey sighs. He’s heard this rant many times, and he’ll probably hear it again tonight. Tony really gets into these movies.

 Tony falls asleep at the end of A New Hope, his head falling on Rhodey’s shoulder. He looks so exhausted so Rhodey lets him sleep through Empire since Tony thinks it’s overhyped or something. Rhodey likes it. When Return of the Jedi starts, Rhodey nudges Tony awake. “Episode 6? Honeybear, you are an angel.” Tony kisses his cheek.

 By the time The Last Jedi comes on, both of the men are sleeping. Jeannette comes in to check on them and snaps a picture of Tony lying on top of Rhodey, both snoring away.

 Rhodey wakes up a few hours later and freezes. Tony is sleeping peacefully on him, his head on Rhodey’s chest. He doesn’t dare move in fear of waking Tony up. He slowly reaches for his phone and scrolls through Instagram and other social media apps until Tony wakes up.

 Tony wakes up slowly, but when he’s fully awake he jumps up and goes. “I’ve got to get to work!”

  “Hey Tony. It’s Sunday. We were going to spend Saturday and Sunday together, right?”

 “Oh. Oh. Whew. I thought.” Tony slumps. “Probably hallucinating from all that grease.”

 “Maybe we should get a little more sleep in a real bed.” Rhodey suggests. Tony nods, and they walk up to Rhodey’s room. Since they were kids, Tony always slept in Rhodey’s bed with him. They only ever slept and/or cuddled, and Rhodey has a king bed in case either of them needed their own space.

 They go to Jeannie’s tennis match then accompany her to an expensive Italian restaurant for dinner. The next morning, there are pictures splashed across the tabloids. Stark trying to get in with the Royal Family? Read more on page 3! One says. The Apple Doesn’t Fall far from the Tree – Another Gold-Digging Stark! Rhodey shakes his head. He was afraid this would happen. He calls his PR agent, Maria Hill.

She answers with a “Now do you see why having a partner would be good?”

 “Yes. Do you have any candidates who would be willing to date with no sex and/or strings attached? For public only?”

 “You don’t know how many celebrities only hope for that. Let me see which ones I can get. I’ll send you over a packet when I get them.”

 When he gets the packet, Rhodey isn’t surprised to find that 75% of them are women. Skipping through them, he tells Maria to reach out to an A-list actress Natasha Romanov. She is a beautiful woman, and they seem to have a lot of the same likes and dislikes. She agrees to meet with Rhodey at a small café near the palace. He introduces himself as Rhodey, then corrects it to “James or Jim” when Romanov gives him an odd look. “I’m sorry. My best friend always calls me Rhodey. It’s just what I expect now. I mean, if you want to call me that in private, it’s fine. Maria thinks it’s better if you call me James or Jim when talking with the press.”

“Tell me about this best friend.” Natasha leans forward. “He sounds like a nice guy.”

 Rhodey launches into a detailed description of Tony: his strengths, his flaws, his quirks, etc.  When he’s done, she asks, “And you’re dating me because you can’t date him?”

 “How did you…?”

 “You’re in love with him. Just look at your face. It’s ok. I won’t tell the press. I have almost the same problem. I’m in a poly relationship with a different celebrity couple. However, since Hollywood, even with its sex scandals, still looks down on poly relationships. I need a beard to keep our activity on the downlow. Is that acceptable for you?”

 Rhodey nods. “Of course. And you’re right. I love Tony, but I need to keep the press out of his life. His father put him through a lot, and he’s trying to make up for Howard’s sins. He doesn’t need the extra press coverage. Also, I don’t know if he likes me like that. I’ve never seen him date a guy.”

 “Well, I’d like to meet him.”

 +++++++ Natasha and Tony eventually meet. Tony is happy to meet her, but Rhodey feels that Tony is wearing one of his many masks. |When they kiss goodnight, Natasha tells him, “Rhodey, he likes you.”

 “Not that I want to doubt you, but I’m highly doubtful on this one here.”

 A few months pass, and Natasha and Prince James are photographed at red carpet events, at sports games, and at galas. Rumors are spreading that Prince James might propose soon. Natasha shows up at the palace for a surprise visit. “Hey, can we talk?” She pulls James from his family dinner.

 She tells him how the couple that she is dating are planning on coming out to the press as poly with her because they know some younger people who are receiving hate for their relationships. They want to be allies for such people. And they want her there when they come out. “Can we say we amicably split? I’d love to keep in contact with you.”

 “That sounds good.” His phone pings. He has a google alert set up for Tony because the press likes to come up to him for hostile interviews at the most inopportune times. James does his best to save him. “Listen Nat, I will talk to my publicist, but I have to go.”

 The press has trapped Tony on the palace driveway. “What do you think of Prince James marrying Ms. Romanov?” One reporter asks.

 “I didn’t know they got engaged, but I think they are an excellent match. Well-suited for each other.” Rhodey can see Tony is keeping his press face on but was not ready for the sudden press conference.

 Another reporter sneers. “We know you were trying to get a piece of the royalty. Will you try for the princess now that the prince is spoken for?”

 “Excuse me?” Tony reels. “What are you talking about?”

 “They’ll never have you. You’re just a charity case to them. What do you think of that? Did you think Prince James really liked you? Especially after what your father did?” Another reporter shoves a microphone in his face.

 Tony loses his mask. “Do I think Rho- Prince James really liked me? I have known the prince since we were young teenagers. I know he likes me… as a friend. But anything more? No. He never did, never will. I know what my father did; I know what I have to do to fix it. My father and Prince James have no correlation. What are you even trying to say here?” Rhodey can see the pain in Tony’s eyes. They flash when he says that Rhodey will never like him as anything more as a friend.

 “Excuse me.” Rhodey steps forward. “Can you step away from him, please?”

 The press apologizes and steps away. “Now, I want to say this once more and hopefully never again. Lord Stark is not his father. Lord Stark is paying his father’s investors back as quickly as he can. He started up his business on his own with his trust fund from his maternal grandmother. Howard never saw or added to a penny of that fund. What is the point of hating a man for the sins of his father? Keep rolling. I am talking to the country as a whole. Leave him alone, please. I want to say one more thing. Tony Stark, you are the love of my life. The reason I have not dated is because the only person I have ever loved was you. Yes, Natasha and I dated, but we did to keep other things hidden. I’m sure she will let you know at some point. It’s not my job. Tony, again, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and perhaps rule with you. I do not have a ring yet because I had not planned to propose to you in front of live TV today, yet here I am. Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

 “You’re serious?” Tony gasps.

 “Completely.”

 “Then Rhodey, my Honeybear, my Platypus, my Sourpatch, I will marry you in a heartbeat.” Tony smiles widely, and Rhodey kisses him deeply, in front of the cameras. As they turn to the palace, Tony turns back to the cameras, lifts his middle finger, and says, “Fuck you” whilst smiling sweetly.

 ++++++ The country is so shocked at Prince James’ dramatic proposal. People wonder if Tony is a good fit for the prince due to his blatant disregard for protocol. Princess Jeannie posts the picture she took of them sleeping in the theatre room on Instagram, the caption “I knew it.” She broke the internet with the most likes on an Instagram post.

  Tony goes through his numbers and his father’s numbers again to make sure everyone is paid off. While looking at his father’s records again, he notices some discrepancies from Obadiah’s report. The truth comes out – Howard had not done anything wrong; it was Obadiah. He falsified documents, records, and even bills to give him much more money. Obadiah is fired and imprisoned. Tony’s name is cleared. Anthony Stark marries Prince James Rhodes a happy man.

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #9

This is to narcissistic mothers/ parents & anyone who is willing to understand.

(Written by me-for and through the lens of my dear friend, i wish you nothing but freedom from her chains. i wish you TLC)

Their ability to make everyone think they’re loving parents.

Their ability to make their kids believe that abuse is normal.

Their ability to make you believe you owe them everything.

Their ability to make themselves believe that they are right.

Their ability to turn the tables and make you believe that it was your fault.

All of this rings so true.

They do make you feel crazy; they suck the energy and ability to reason logically right out of you- and, by very nature of their narcissism, it never occurs to them that *they* might be the problem.

You can’t expect a relationship to happen with someone highly dysfunctional. how do you stoop down to the level of someone who aside from work & put all energy into keeping up an appearance can only abuse substance, speak to empty friends & post garbage.

In truth, I think the alcoholism is a symptom of her larger mental illness or narcissistic personality disorder- but it’s no excuse. Her parenting is unreliable, inconsistent, and unpredictable. There never is a sense of safety and consistency, allowing me to thrive.

I’m told to forgive & keep peace & ignore all your craziness. All the advice I've been getting on dealing with a narcissistic mother has been saying to avoid her as much as possible, or to try communicate & ‘keep peace’ as if I haven’t tried to communicate, as if I’m purposely singling her out from our already empty relationship. Well now I'm stuck at home all day, or every household or friend I bring over, she decides to involve. So much for distancing myself.  The worst part is she isn't even doing it herself, she just sits around watching tv, having friends over & phoning everyone while Im expected to clean up after her and "contribute" to the family/ financially support my self for college.

- Yes, absolutely, I am the crazy one. You know what, I’m not even going to deny it, I probably have a ton of issues, most of them mental. But guess where they came from? Guess who made those problems worse and maybe even helped create them? No mom, you’re not to blame for everything or the “war in Iraq” as you so eloquently put it. But you are to blame for some it, at the very least. it’s time to take account & I will no longer be made to feel like the obligated for for an entitled narc.

I feel your claws sinking in less and less.  You no longer have me in chains, I will break free from your emotional bondage even if it takes me seeming boring & silencing myself around you to not endure & tolerate your nonsense. Your words no longer fill me with despair like they once did.

This year long cold shoulder would have once filled me with anxiety but now all I feel is bliss. I no longer feel jealous when others talk about their seemingly perfect parents because I may not have that luxury but what I do have is a chance to be a "perfect parent" myself potentially one day. To be everything you couldn't and wouldn't somewhere far away and isolated from your poison.

I wonder how you feel...  but I simply can’t understand or pretend to care anymore. I’m tired of putting energy into a source that doesn’t put out. When children don't talk to you unless prompted- it’s because there is nothing to be said after the plenty opportunities given to converse truly & openly.

No I don’t want to speak to your 9th friend on the phone today again about surface level things just to please you. No I don’t want to come socialise with your drunk friends & be spoken to like a child

When you have to tell yet another lie to yet another friend to mask the evidence of a broken home When you look in the mirror and only see insecurities When you realise there's no one around you and can't figure out why When you tear down someone close yet again, to feel good about yourself  I wonder how you feel, I wonder if you feel, I wonder if you can...

my mom pushes me away but doesnt wanna let me leave. she doesn’t want to take into account that she pushed me to this extent. part of growth is being able to communicate your emotions properly. how can a whole 43 year old be unable to do so? I Vocalize when I’m not okay with something. Communication helps people avoid being uncomfortable, easily triggered, hostile, or passive aggressive with people. her communication is one sided and I’m the only one who gets to listen while she’s the only one who gets to talk, otherwise I’m ‘answering back’ or ‘telling a woman what to do’ even though I talk sense and out of respect in my responses or when I do try speak.

Worse yet I have to go BACK to the emotionally abusive situation that I basically fled.

What really bugs me is when you’ve given someone so many chances to do better and change. But then once you get tired of their antics, you try to move on and they continually try to reel you back in. Not even trying to change, but instead *trying* to reel you back in for their benefit. It’s unhealthy and traumatizing to say the least.

I guess i should be glad your swinging moods and emotions taught me to manage mine from young. I should be glad that I had to teach myself not to care about what you said to me and what you thought about me. I should be overjoyed that the side effect was me not caring about what anyone said or thought and basically becoming an inert emotionless void. I should be thankful that I always look fine even when I’m in pain and feeling like death and I’m capable of putting up with things that would send any sane person off the edge.

relationships are so much healthier when the goal is to experience life together and not to try to make the person into who you want them to be or to make them do what you want them to do. In my case my mother has de masculated me over the years making me soft and obedient, for her own selfish gain of having a man worship her. she decided since she doesn’t have a man, or never managed to find someone stay at home that’s he truly connected to, she’s decided the man that’s going to worship her will be me- her son. Since I resemble my father who she was in love with, she will always talk bad on me as she resents my father for not wanting her.

through gaslighting me over the years, it’s become harder to speak up, I even feel embarrassed to tell my dad even though that’s probably the only thing that will make her open her eyes and get clean. my pot is boiling though. Independence is obviously healthy but when it gets to the point where i find it challenging to actually be able to even admit that i might need assistance in this situation,  problems arise. And for what? Why I’m I protecting her image? I’ve been taught to & I’m a respectable young man who won’t take joy from her exposure, but I don’t take joy from preserving information & keeping it all inside to deal with myself. I’ve become so hard on myself and still pushing through-it’s not easy, people still expect me to be a super heroe all the time. I have a hard time opening up, allowing people to help me in whatever I’m doing. I hate even admitting I need help most times. I wish I’d been taught early what my mother learned late, thankfully I was observant, self taught & still willing to learn- thankfully I’m not a follower & I know right from wrong.

The worst part about looking at the future and trying to imagine it full of hope, light and emotional health is knowing that you'll always have the scars. Emotional abusers aren't supposed to leave scars but mine managed to. And in my mother's usual style it can even be passed off as unintentional. In my case it was actually supposed to a kind act which ended badly in the way that only events in my life can seem to end.

All the phone calls to your friends, you continuously fake talk about me on a nonexistent relationship. it’s sad how you need to phone 100 people in a day and can only hold the same surface level chats. I wonder if you can grip the fact that nobody ever wants to help you with anything. you’re lucky they even listen and you’re lucky they only know your side of the story every time. you’re a great potter & can mould situations.

It’s sad that if you sense the slightest hint that people do not approve of your estrangement and they are not going to be there for your nonsense, you stir the pot and involve and buss peoples names, further spinning your web of lies.

All the pity you came to relish over the years as single mother warrior extraordinaire would simply dry up. Any attempts to paint me, your only child in a negative light would seem simply monstrous if I exposed you, but I maintain respect, bite my tongue & hold my head up because my real mother figure taught me that.

But really you have to keep up the pretense to your friends, that I was an insubordinate, ungrateful bitch of a problem child and you were a glorious brave single mother at her wits end just trying to make things work. even with the mural I painted, you forced me to mention the single mother narrative; as if that had anything to do with my art piece. I mean how selfish can you be? the art peace was to represent Sheku Bayou & the BLM movement, I didn’t even want to put my real name- I wanted to put my instagram page associated with my art because business is business and personal is personal. but to toot your horn, I added a whole separate paragraph because you wanted your name to be connected to my art piece as though I’m some sort of celebrity and it was my claim to fame. the single mother narrative is bullshit, I know tonnes of single african parents that know how to step up when it’s time to be a mother, but that’s something you’ve never known how to do. I remember you drunk the day I came here and I will never forget the words ‘I will drink myself to death if I want to’ I don’t have sympathy anymore and I’m not a saviour, I have tried and tried through hiding alcohol, attempting to converse & get her to cut down; but you can only bring a horse to the water not to drink it. how is a teenager meant to know how to stop an alcoholic junkie? I’m her son you say? If she truly cared and wanted to fix up, I would be one thing to stop her I thought.

my mother is an alcoholic. an addict. she refuses to wear those labels, but this has far exceeded the occasional ‘binge’ ‘sesh’ or ‘Prosecco party’ .Throughout middle school and high school, I would guess that half or so of the days out of the year she spent in a wine haze. Even my constant begging her to stop drinking did not stop it. Pouring her wine down the drain or hiding it made her angry and transitioned to mental and phsyical abuse. She became increasingly angry and I aged and entered high school but she was always this way since I came really. It was during this time that I would lock the doors to my room and try to hide from her in there. I still barricade my room door to this day just for my own peace. Despite all the horrendous things she did, every once in a while she did give me money, and this gets dangled over my head RELENTLESSLY... as if money buys love.

I needed to get some outside reassurance that I'm sane. Thankfully now I know and all I can do is try stay in my lane, can’t argue with a supposed adult with a brain that resembles a wall or a child.

People who were emotionally abused have spent far too long defending themselves. Justifying their own feelings. Trying to make others see and understand what they went through is a task. Abusive parents are very good at manipulating. that’s why I have ceased contact with this toxic person, i do not owe anyone an explanation.Doesn’t matter if they are a family member or close family friend. Doesn’t matter if they are a friend or acquaintance of yours. I’ve learned just to be boring , save everything interesting and beautiful about myself for those who deserve it.

[thirteenthspirit]

“People don’t kill themselves over love” (Part IV)

Link to part 1 “I would, my friend, Fernando”: http://thirteenthspirit.tumblr.com/post/182269822949/i-would-my-friend-fernando-part-i

Link to part 2 “I wish I hadn’t”: https://thirteenthspirit.tumblr.com/post/183770872439/i-wish-i-hadnt-part-ii

Link to part 3 “I am confusion”:https://thirteenthspirit.tumblr.com/post/184778393699/i-am-confusion-part-iii

It’s been about a month since the last update to this story. I’ve been through the thick and thin, rose high and fell low. I wish I could say I was over you, but… I’m missing you so much today that I couldn’t be further from that goal.

I continued therapy. Weekly sessions, they helped me detangle the mess in my head. But they didn’t really do much to ease the pain of heartbreak, time is the only course of treatment for that. And time did pass.

Not enough. I kept having regular triggers upon receiving your messages, even if they were only to boast about your most recent “shiny” encounter. And as light-weighted and simple as they were for you, they were monumental for me. They ruined my day. Rekindled the connection I was trying so hard to bury. Part of it was my fault, the withdrawal from not actively contacting him made me check his Instagram profile, which was riddled with references to his boyfriend – a bit masochistic of me, I realize.

The last straw happened at an Ed Sheeran concert. Big event, took place in a stadium here in the city. I went with my roommate, she had tickets. We were sited, waiting for the concert to start, when I saw you post on the Pokémon group a screenshot of the arena, with the caption “Looks like Ed Sheeran turned into a Snorlax!”. My stomach dropped immediately. I also commented I was there, and he immediately came to speak with me via private chat. Obviously, he was there with his boyfriend – and 7 other of said boyfriend’s flamboyant friends. He kept complaining to me how he hated the music and didn’t feel like he was fitting in at all, among the people he was with. So his boyfriend had paid him the ticket and he was complaining, to me, while standing next to him? Real mature. Anyway, it ruined the concert for me. Let’s just say the sad songs were a sob fest for me, for about 10 mins straight.

I realized then that the proximity wasn’t doing any good. I had changed houses, I stopped going to any part of the city where I might encounter him, and yet… the tether was still there. Any sign of him was still enough to send me reeling. So I knew the only way forward would be to do what I was most afraid of – completely cut him off. I had postponed it long enough.

It’s the first advice people give you upon a breakup – sever all ties immediately. But since we didn’t have a relationship per se, I assumed normal rules didn’t apply.

So sever is exactly what I did. I took a knife, went straight to his house and – no, ok. Fine. Only in my mind did I do that, sometimes. I just cried and went to therapy. During a session, he messaged me, by pure chance – my session was taking place during the “Cresselia raid hour” and he wanted to let me know he had caught 3 shinies, asking whether I already had one. My therapist saw, live, the effect a simple message from him had on me. She could read it in my face. All the join and mindfulness completely drained away in .5 seconds. So she pushed me to cut him off. In that moment.

I didn’t want to at first but I myself had realized previously I needed to do exactly that. So I filled myself with courage and texted him “Hum… Could you please not text me anymore?”. His reply was “Huh?”, to which I answered “Thanks. Sorry.”. He then retorted with “Ok. Bye.”. It wasn’t exactly “bye” but it’s an expression in Portuguese akin to that – “Fica bem”. Meaning “stay well” but in a more “Peace out” chilled and dismissed way.

And that was it. That was the last time I spoke with him. It’s been over 2 weeks since then and there has been 0 contact whatsoever – I still see him speaking on the Pokémon group all the time, but I just stopped opening that conversation. Sad that I’ll have to sacrifice losing some good friends just to stay away from him but if that’s what it takes… I just can’t deal with these triggers anymore.

The following day I cried my eyes out, which I still hadn’t done. A necessary step in every breakup (?) I’d wager. People go to therapy over losing friends, or so I’ve been told.

Either way, I don’t know if the realization that I’m the bad guy in his story, the mad one who stopped wanting to be friends overnight and needs to go to therapy over his crippling depressive state, helps me or not. It hurt more then than it does now, so that should be the takeaway. Then again, I was never really that important for him, so losing me didn’t affect him in the slightest, right?  So I’m not even worth the label of ‘bad’ or ‘important’ guy in his story. Just a shrug of the shoulders without even a second thought.

So that’s my life now, I guess. I still have my triggers, my moments. I still avoid going to 50% of the city because of him, including my parent’s house… Lucky for me they have been super understanding, and come hang out with me at my place instead. My mother suspects what’s going on but doesn’t know 100%.

The only dark thought is… when does this stop? I’ve done everything I was supposed to and yet there are still days in which I am so lost and hopeless without you. Then again, maybe I would’ve felt the same way with you – your narcissism definitely wouldn’t help me in the slightest.

I took the title of this chapter from something my therapist told me. You see, I had spent the past weekend at my roommate’s parent’s house in the country, which stood upon a rocky cliff. That cliff was a notorious spot of election for suicides. The odd unfortunate soul or two had been known to take their lives upon those rocks, tossing their ID into the garden of the house. And after returning home… I couldn’t stop thinking of the cliff. Couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.

The privilege guilt I felt over that, I mean how could I, a young man with no visible disabilities or hindrances in life, who is only hurting over a stupid love rejection, compare myself to the people who were so desperate that they wound up actually taking their own lives – people with real problems, real issues.

Either way, I couldn’t prevent the thoughts from escalating. My friends made me promise to talk to my therapist about them, which I did. She started keeping a closer eye on me from the on, but her immediate reply was this:

“People don’t really kill themselves over romantic heartbreaks. In most of the cases, it’s about money. The money troubles really take the cake on this one. But love… passes. It doesn’t stand the test of time. So hang in there.”

And hanging in there I (still) am.

                                                                                                    João A. (Xanuda)