goodloved

[goodloved]

i miss honey sm having withdrawals mind ur business if u see me writing drabbles💚💚💚

[goodloved]

[goodloved]

[goodloved]

the smile that taunts along his lips is nothing short of melancholic,  almost accepting of the chasm that had split through their once solid foundation. his first reaction’s to roll his eyes, tip his head back by the neck to act out the sigh that hollows out his lungs  ——  but his body keeps still,  bones and muscles alike still clinging onto the hope that this won’t completely fade away.  neglecting impulse hadn’t ever been his strongest suit,  and maybe the only positive of this torrential downpour of unspoken disdain has made it so charles has no choice but to think before his actions.   “ if i somehow implied i wanted that,  i didn’t mean to. ”  losing her was the last thing he wanted,  even before the shambles.  before the millisecond of hesitance to tuck himself beneath the same comforter,  before the ominous countdown of an inevitable end had set onto his shoulders like dumbbells.  there had been a point where he couldn’t be in the same room as her without crowding her space,  hands all but glued onto any part of her that fingers could hold on to for the simple pleasure of warming fingertips against her skin. 

“ i’m saying i want to try fixing whatever  ..  this is. ”  he’s only realized his line of vision had yet to shift from the edge of the table,  too concerned with keeping the flicker of candlelight in his peripheral to face whatever look might have settled into the fine lines of her features.  green irises serve his sorrow like dinner plates,  he knows,  a flaw that he’s never quite admired.  the side of his thumb runs along the edge of the table as a lone fountain for tension to spout out of,  a loose distraction responsible for keeping any irregularities from his tone.  “ because i’m tired of doing this thing,  of pretending that this is normal.  it’s not supposed to be this exhausting. ”

honey doesn’t realize her throat constricting until she can’t breathe. hesitant hands peek out to grab her glass of water and she’s cups it with fingers perfectly encompassing its circumference. she’s become almost instantaneously shy in his immediate aura. any implication of them ending is somehow easier than bearing her heart to him and he’s right –– it shouldn’t make her bones feel so heavy all the sudden. she shouldn’t be taking long sips only to avoid confronting the matter until she realizes she’s hit the bottom on her excuse to stay mute. impolitely, a finger comes up to wipe at the droplet threatening to spill from a puffy lesser lip and while grateful he hasn’t been paying enough attention to notice, she can’t help but to feel the pang in her chest when she can’t find his eyes upon immediately lilting her head upright.

“ i feel ... ” everything and nothing for him, all at once. how could she put into words the way it feels to not recognize him anymore and still get butterflies on the off chance that fingertips touch? to still love him enough for the both of them while petrified to say so most nights. the yearning and desperately wanting to reach for him while feeling unwelcome; a complete inability to read past this constant look on his face that she can swear is disdain. “ i don’t know what we can do. do you? you w-won’t even look at me i –– ” desolate utterings are cut short as it starts to feel like there’s a timer ticking for her to just say the right thing. it has her palms prickle with sweat and eyes are wide and unruly for a second and more often than not lately she finds herself so close to losing control and then it just ... calms. with a single breath, eyebrows are unravelling and the fixed look on her face is less altogether. 

“ i used to love sitting with you. ” her gaze flickers from his eyes to where they lead and she follows the lightning impulse to gingerly slide her chair back and push herself up though knees are liable to buckle at any second. hands haphazardly begin to gather the plates and honey just can’t wait to create distance between this tension again.

[goodloved]

the corners of his mouth blur with sentiment whenever she moves. he’ll at least have that, he thinks. despite the self doubt that billows out of his nostrils each exhale, it’s still certain he’ll never tire of looking at her. muscle memory serves to keep him outwardly endeared even when a self preserving voice tells him to keep his expression blank.  “ i don’t want to, ”   is given in lieu of any outright transparency. and maybe that’s the root of it all, the phantom tether that’s somehow formed between his head and his tongue in her company. he tries his best not to think every second has it spreading through the rest of him, ligaments becoming rigid beneath the weight of too much that he hasn’t said. that he can never quite bring himself to say because the timing isn’t right, because of an ugly discontentment that perches on his chest every morning for a reason he still can’t place. 

“ there’s .. ”  begins to part his lips, but is intercepted by a breathless chuckle instead. it’s the first time he’s earnestly speechless, every word that treks up his throat somehow always losing grip and adding on to the knot in the pit of his stomach. “ all i want is to be normal again, you know ? ”  the words splatter against the table top, sloppy and haphazard like a drunken night his freshman year.  “ and i know that that’s selfish and .. i don’t know, idealistic but i don’t know how we even managed to get like this in the first place. ”  lungs sputter out a breath in punctuation as if they’d just finished a marathon. verbalizing emotions shouldn’t feel so exhausting, he knows, but all charles can think is how he doesn’t know what’s worse anymore  ——  folding both hands between themselves, tucked beneath the table to keep them from reaching out for hers or letting them and shoveling more detachment into the hollows of his eyes if her fingers twitch with the instinct to pull away. 

honey’s face glows with melancholy while the tension grows solid between them, something tangible. the shift in his intonation, evident weariness, outright admittance that somethings wrong here. it’s enough to give her whiplash from the daunting ( and somehow exponentially preferable ) silence they’d been slumped in mere moments ago. she’s taken to blame herself less, or at least would rather internalize the mountains of self loathing than to dribble them in puddles at charles’ feet. even if she’s ridiculing herself for things out of her control. she can’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to so much as shed a tear in front of him and maybe that in itself is a form of neglect to their relationship. it wouldn't be so far fetched if she'd sabotaged it all –– set herself to fail in this for some sort of self fulfilling prophecy that she's not enough. she offers up nothing but a tired sigh for the few seconds that follow, adjusting in her seat in awkward discomfort. thinking it might be nice if he could be just a nudge closer because even them not being skin to skin is wildly uncharacteristic.

“ are you waiting for me to throw in the towel? ” a plain-spoken quip enters the uncomfortable fog they sit between before she can bite it back. it’s said in a tone dipped in playful tease. there’s the ghost of a giggle that dots her i’s and crosses her t’s, offers up some ease to its blunt roughness because it wouldn’t be her if anything but soft. it’s a challenge, an honest wondering that nearly triggers the nausea in the pool of her belly to shoot up her neck and spill out in chunks all over the dining table. there’s a glint that decorates irises now, a tilt of her head that invites a fresher breath of air into her lungs. “ i’d do it if it made it easier. ” there isn’t an inch of her that’s prepared to give up, but it less and less matters what she wants. she’s coming to resolve that there might be too little time to put him second anymore, whether or not it leaves her feeling empty and unwanted.

[goodloved]

it feels a bit like there’s a stranger in front of him. and that’s mostly his own fault, he knows that. and he can still see fragments of her that ring almost painfully familiar :   a sunlit glazed hue of irises, the strands of hair that frame her temples, shadows emphasizing the divots of collarbones. the sound of her voice cements it for him, simple syllables coaxing memories of his cold palms finding the form of her rib cage in the middle of the night to swallow their warmth and a head on a shoulder with paired laughter rumbling from a video watched for the fourth time in a row and   ——   well, his mind seems to do more talking than his tongue these days. ( in truth, the fear of losing her has paralyzed him in the most inconvenient way. ) 

muscles do their best to keep his features resolved. lips absent of a frown despite the initial twitch of either corner of his mouth, eyes sure not to widen with the allusion of impending doom that begins to snake its way up his throat.  “ sounds more like a nightmare, ”  manages around his tongue almost too casually. there seems to always be a debate within him now, whether it’s in his best interest to play stupid to the atmosphere that weighs heavy around them most mornings or corner her into an admission neither of them want to say aloud for the sake of peeling away some of the exhaustion that’s become a second layer of skin. a hand lifts to mold fingertips into the corner of his jaw, giving his eyes an excuse to shift their gaze from her for a moment.  “ we haven’t actually gotten that off track, have we? ” 

a devout wonder roams his face, hazel hues intently imploring for more. pupils are blown wide and there’s a hazy longing settled into her features. she can feel him and how he’s held back, suddenly wonders if the elbow that props up on the table and cheek that squishes against her palm is wildly inappropriate for the rigidness of the room. its always proven difficult for honey to corral herself around him, even like this –– with the desperate feeling that she isn’t privy to whatever it is that makes the room feel so still. she finds it a challenge knowing what to say, thinks it easier to hum a soft agreement into the space between them and lower her eyes down to the plate sat before her. a nightmare, she recites to herself, wondering if he were to say the same about this dreamlike limbo they sit in now. 

brows twitch at the blunt acknowledgement of their state and she must remind herself that it’s healthy to speak candidly. honey’s never in good conscience known any other way than honesty and though anticipating the worst she feels it in her only to say what she really feels. the air between them has taken a shift to something more delicate, feeling susceptible to crumble with any wrong word and she must wonder when it began to feel this way. if it started for him long before it did for her. “ i feel far from you. ” wet lips exhale with a tender sweetness, a withdrawn blush blooming across her cheeks to match a sheepish expression that she hopes he can’t delineate through the candle light. how embarrassing it all feels. her bijou hand loses itself in her hairline to tuck unruly strands away from her line of sight and the precise gaze that finds his face again begs to be let into his thoughts. 

“ feel far from me? ”

[goodloved]

@pyrlte​

an innocent pensiveness weighs down the corners of vermillion lips as honey fidgets with tousled strands that pirouette down her chest. her hair has gotten long. longer than she likes it. her back is up against her chair and the expression is tired; a peppering of fear shading her eyebrows as round eyes stare across at charles. it’s a rude habit –– she’s embarrassed finding herself doing it yet still can’t ever get enough of just looking at him. a fondness sits behind her pout in lieu of an i love you that doesn’t quite fit the climate of the room. ( feels like it hasn’t for months and honey’s grateful to not yet have made herself sick wondering why. ) she thinks she might prefer talking to the static silence perched between them at the table alongside a golden candelabra. the quietness earns her to feel more nauseous than the nights before. like perhaps she's done something wrong though she really can’t remember what. 

“ keep having this dream, ” she breathes out evenly, tone carefully soft though desperation is rupturing between syllables of each word. “ it’s d-dark and i don’t know what i’m running from but i hear you calling my name. your voice feels closer and closer but ... i never get to you. ” honey watches his face faintly illuminated by the flickering of candles and wonders if it’s all a metaphor –– if the part of her subconscious that feels him indefinitely out of reach finds a way in to their bedroom every night after she closes her eyes. she wonders too if he can feel her body slick with sweat at seven in the morning, wisps of hair clinging to skin and freckled cheeks glistening under the light of sunrise. when she trembles an out of breath good morning and her grip around him refuses to let up she hopes he can’t tell how badly she wants to believe it’s just a dream.

[goodloved]

“ORPHEUS: How will you remember? EURYDICE: That I love you? ORPHEUS: Yes. EURYDICE: That’s easy. I can’t help it.”

— Sarah Ruhl, from “Eurydice” (via medeae)

[goodloved]

[goodloved]

he hadn’t realized how much he’d lacked decompressing until this moment,  a bunch of nothings in the moment now clustering between his cheeks to finally divulge every fleeting annoyance and childish joy.  he imagines mountains of words sitting atop her gentle shoulders heavily,  threatening to swallow her whole.  his posture reads sheepish :  hands awkwardly misplaced on his lap,  slight tilt of his head,  features painted a kind soft.  “ i don’t know. just everything, i guess. always been kind of an impatient nuisance. ”  fingers find his hair and give it a lazy nudge from his face.  “ i’m just perpetually .. searching, it feels like. as generic as that sounds. but i just want everything to, like, be already. so maybe i can finally feel settled. ” 

it’s impossible not to watch her ;  always captivated by the simplest of motions.  his heart’s still numb just by being in her company still and charles shifts to commit fully to sitting on her bed,  any hesitance now long gone. it’s tempting to reach for her again,  just fingertips to her shin or inviting himself to completely lay beside her.  charles keeps his place beyond arm’s reach and dares to picture this an every day occurrence,  falling back into the rhythm he wouldn’t have ever chosen to step away from in the first place.  “ forever’s a pretty long time,  you know, ”  parts his lips gently.  but he knew he’d always be available for her,  there wasn’t room for opposition even if he wanted it. he would be tied to her for the rest of their lives and charles had always known that. 

she knows impatience ; specifically when it comes to things that aren’t always are guaranteed. though the not knowing part of it is what bothers her more than the waiting. makes her fidgety and desperate. “ yeah, ” she hums, rolling her tongue over her teeth. “ but ... i think when you f-finally get there, w-wherever that is, it’ll b-be wonderful. ” there’s a saccharine smile paired with the vote of confidence, little squint of her eyes and nod of her head so he knows just how much she believes in him. not that he needs that, she suspects. he’s always had such an impressive head on his shoulders, so sure of himself –– little to no hesitance in doing what he wants. it’s so admirable, she thinks. undoubtedly one of the reasons she regards him with such high esteem. “ i don’t know what i’m gonna do when i g-graduate. it's s-scary. ”

the sigh she gives is slight and short lived. it’s too much to think about losing him again, with him close enough for her to reach. she knows he’ll have to leave florida soon ( it’s an unforgiving thought that presses into the back of her mind as a gentle prod for her not to get too attached again ) but she’s got him for the time being. and even when he’s not physically there, she thinks, she’ll keep a little piece of him wherever she goes. “ mhm, i know. ” a flicker of her gaze back over to him gives her the urge to nod over at the vacant space beside her with a hidden longing in her eyes. “ i m-miss you way over here. ”

[goodloved]

he no longer cares for formalities, can’t even bring himself to wonder if this is going to be a single instance, if this’ll be the exact moment he can pinpoint the beginning of his downfall four months down the road. it’s simply too nice to be in her company again, renditions of comfort that he hadn’t been able to find anywhere else.  (  hadn’t even tried to, if he were to be completely honest. )  there’s no fidgeting, no spikes of self-doubt ;  just a deep ache in the center of his palms to keep her close.  “ i’ve been .. ”  there’s a split second where he thinks of omitting the gritty truth ;  sparing her the worry that she already wallows in, but it wouldn’t really be them if he wasn’t honest with her.   right ?   both shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug.  “ keeping myself busy.  not thinking about too much, or anything at all, honestly. ”  the smile that settles along his lips is only soft, doesn’t quite reach his eyes in a way that one can only hope translates as a kind barrier.  a silent request not to be pried open.  “ but i’m good, you know ?   all things considered,  i can’t really complain. just impatient sometimes. ”

idly, he thumbs at the hem of his shirt and tries to put together words that’ll make sense rather than let the floodgates pour nonsensical babble. there’s just so much to say and it doesn’t feel like there’s enough time to try sandwiching it all in ;  can’t even really decide if running down every detail of the last couple of months is even something she’d want to hear.  charles shovels in a deep breath through his nose then quietly admits,  “ i missed you. ”  his hands lay flat on his lap finally before his eyes shift from the mattress to meet hers again. the tilt of his head is lightheartedly resigned, as if he’s fully aware three words weren’t quite a confession to her at all. 

her face has adopted an expression of solemn curiosity now. she gives a tentative nod as he speaks, entirely involved in him. it’s not like it’s any much different than the first time she saw him –– in fact she’d be willing to argue he’s had her complete attention for much too long now. ( not that she can foresee that changing anytime soon. ) he’s speaking vaguely. she thinks that must be the complete opposite of her, who beside the right person spills everything in her mind all in one breath. with him, she’s left hanging off his words like a child. wanting to probe ‘why?’ and ‘what do you mean?’ at every other one of his utterances. she won’t though, not so much to preserve her dignity but to spare him the energy. “ impatient for w-what? ” the innocent query rushes into the space between them like an accident. with wide eyes her fingertips come up over her mouth and she gives her head a little shake. “ if i can ask. m’sorry. ” it’s been a year, the least she can do is give him the space to tell her what he’s comfortable sharing. 

“ i’m so happy you’re g-good. that’s w-what you deserve, charles. ” her lips pucker off to the side to keep back a smile. round eyes trail down his face and arms like they have a habit of doing before meeting his again. she breathes, elbows giving out for her head to plop back onto her pillow. hazel hues face the glow in the dark stars that are stuck up on the ceiling from years ago and honey smiles up at them with a soft, “ i missed you. ” there’s a short pause and turn of her head to face the other side of the room before the next admittance. “ y-you know i hope i know you f-forever. ”

[goodloved]

she’s always thought she was funny. its obvious in the way her voice is when she says stuff like that. she clearly finds herself entertaining to some extent. but except for the times he’s plowing into her over sweaty bed sheets he finds her far from it. “ oh shut the fuck up! ” he scoffs, letting his head fall back to take a breath. there’s a look of disgust on his face that won’t budge now as he hears he speak. he can’t help but think everything she’s saying now is fabricated to make herself feel like less of a monster about this. it’s a minute before he looks her back in the face and he wishes he hadn’t seen all of the genuine sympathy written all over it. almost wants to take it upon the palm of his hand to do away with it. “ then what’s it about?! what’s it about honey? because you sound like you’re off your fuckin’ rocker. ” his eyes narrow and jaw clenches before he brings a hand up to curl around her chin, aggressively grasping her face and forcing her eyes to keep on his. he’s seeing red now. “ tell me i didn’t give you everything. ”

this is how honey should’ve prepared for it going. perhaps it would’ve been more decent of her to end things via text rather than put him through the sheer pain he’s in now. and she shouldn’t care. shouldn’t still be trying to get crying eyes through to him while he’s got a hold on her jaw so firm she’s sure it’ll bruise. “ y –– ” the five words threaten to spill past her brims but she can’t seem to manage breathing them. the terror of his hostility is feeding on all that valor she’d mustered when he sauntered into the room. every single one of the ways he’s reacted acts as another reason for her to run, yet here she stands too petrified to. she uses two shaky hands against his chest to push away, stumbling back some to wipe at her cheeks and shake her head with something of pity. “ i-i’m not crazy. i am not crazy. ” she speaks the words more to convince herself because every time he puts her down she struggles so much not to take his words for truth. she believes that’s the way it’ll always be. “ and you didn’t give me everything. you hardly gave me a single thing. and i’m leaving now. ”

[goodloved]

advice for writing a stutterer from an actual stutterer;

okay no shade at all I just want all of u to learn and grow and become better writers! so here’s a handy tip list!

we don’t stutter on every word. okay, sometimes it can seem it, but honestly, we don’t, so leave a few words in there to give your readers some breathing room.

we stutter more on specific sounds. for me, f and s sounds are big ones. everyone has their thing and most stutterers have sounds that are harder to get out.

we don’t just stutter at the beginning of words and sentences. okay, honestly this is a big one for me. sometimes, a word starts off really well and goes down the drain at the second syllable! and the stutter doesn’t disappear once we’ve made it past the first word - it clings in there, so don’t forget it.

some of us don’t always stutter. some, not all, of us have what’s known as an anxious stutter, which generally comes alongside anxiety disorders. so, while it may be usually present, when a person with an anxious stutter is particularly comfortable with a situation, it tends to get better (or even almost disappear).

we don’t stutter when we swear. this is why some of us can stutter and stutter and stutter on a word and then shout fuck and everything’s cool. as far as science knows, this is because swearing is from a more primitive part of the brain, and so it bypasses the bit that makes us stutter! it’s so cool honestly.

we don’t stutter when we sing. the biggest two reasons for this one is 1) music comes from a different part of the brain to talking (language=left; music=right), and so it once again bypasses the stutter, or 2) ‘easy voice’, which is the voice that people sing in, is softer and smoother, and the sounds are longer so there’s less opportunity to stutter. either option is way cool but we don’t stutter when we sing.

sometimes, we give up on words. after a certain amount of stuttering on a certain word, you may see a stutterer take a deep breath and either try again, or replace it with a synonym. sometimes that word just won’t fit right in our mouths!

we hate it when people try to guess what we’re trying to say or try to speed us up. this might be a more personal thing for me, but there’s nothing I hate more than that clicky sound people make or the weird hand gestures or being told to “spit it out.” because we can’t control this shit and it gets tiring. it’s better just to let the person get it out and take their time with it, so when you’re writing, keep this in mind!

it gets worse when we’re anxious or stressed, and when we’re excited! I get really really stuttery when I’m enthusiastic about the topic of conversation, because I know so much about that thing that I try to talk really fast and my mouth can’t keep up! it’s the same when I’m anxious or stressed - when there’s more on our minds, the more everything gets a little muddled.

I hope this was helpful! feel free to add on and spread around!

[goodloved]

[goodloved]

bro, i dont even care anymore. fuck it! *continues to try very hard*

[goodloved]

sebastian leaned into her touch and breathed in deep, baby blue eyes rolling shut. it was normal for him to feel the weight of the world on his shoulders and there was something in her that always made it feel lighter. maybe that’s why he couldn’t get enough of her and refused to let go. it wouldn’t be shocking if he fell apart once whatever this was between them came to an end, and he knew it would. whether she came to her senses and had enough self love to walk away from him or he simply got bored/decided it wasn’t worth it to get any more attached than he already was. he knew this wouldn’t last, it was a ticking time bomb. “ sit. ” he ordered, giving two taps to his lap.

there wasn’t any hesitation ; honey had always been impossibly obedient in his presence. gentle fingers dropped from his hair as she settled onto his lap, taking precaution not to mess with anything on the desk. an arm lazily draped across his shoulder and her head tilted into the crook of his neck, silent prayers made that she’d be able to get a couple more minutes of shut eye ( even if sitting upright in a brightly lit study wasn’t the ideal environment to do so. ) “ m’so sleepy, ” her mumble was more of just a sharing than a complaint –– something she was sure wouldn’t warrant more than a grunt, if that, from him. their dynamic wasn’t so comfortable with expressions of thoughts, moods and feelings. honey didn’t know why she stayed up so many nights, tracing his abdomen and praying he’d ever come around to them. “ gonna shut my eyes, okay ? ”

[goodloved]

every moment before her absence comes cascading over him. every knuckle bleaching squeeze of hands, every soft sentence breathed into her hair, every grumble of concession. it’s a scientific miracle how he’s managed to survive this long without her, that much he’s sure of. words collect at the base of his throat like his body’s own traffic jam, all desperate to finally get out and be heard only to lodge themselves further into an unspoken mess. his mind runs a million miles a minute just like when he’s on the field, an impending downfall heading straight for him in the picture of leather gloves and turf stained cleats. he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to say it or if the three words that left him are already too much and if his mouth should just clamp shut ;  and an apology’s there on the tip of his tongue when her reciprocation hits first and all the weight that had been flattening his lungs finally dissipates. 

green eyes shine with a muted prayer that this moment doesn’t end up their last. the warmth of her hand ignites a reassurance back in him, a daring thread that justifies any actions he might have for the rest of the night despite the fear that still lingers in the marrow of his bones. it all happens in flashes :   delicately setting the stack of letters on the side of himself away from her, hand overlaying her own in the briefest adoration, body pivoting forward so his arms can finally encase her frame and all but crush her beneath the weight of himself. there’s no second chance for his brain to question it, no need for him to run through a hundred and one what-ifs that might all not end up true because she’s spent the last however long writing to the ghost of him. and that’s more reassurance that he could have ever hoped to get through telephone microphones. 

“ well don’t go anywhere any time soon again, ”  finally manages to force its way passed the lump in his throat. “ or else i might just have to handcuff us together. ”

the remorse is still there and it's threatening to keep her from reveling in all of this. she’s enveloped in him and her arms do the right thing in falling on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck but only after a moment of hesitation. it’s not fair. she feels greedy –– like those people who make false promises and take, take, take what they can get without having given anything to warrant any special treatment. guilt of what she’s done starts to make her skin feel dirty in his embrace and she has to will herself to shut her mind off and realize that he’s still here with her. could’ve pretended not to see her at the cafe and gone his merry way, thanking the gods he’d gotten rid of her without even having to try. but he’s here ; has listened and is ready to turn a new leaf ( whether or not she thinks she’s deserving of another chance to be a part of his life. ) a deep breath frees her from her thoughts, familiar scent of him having her frail limbs tumble helplessly into a pit of enamor.

there’s a little giggle and soft squeeze on her part. eyes are shut and when she feels herself settling into the thought that she can sit here in this hug forever, she feels her arms unraveling from around him –– not to grant herself the satisfaction of it. she’s pulled back just enough to nudge her nose against his cheek ; a sweet inkling of love. “ will you tell me how you’ve been ? ” a sincere question, wondering aloud whether she’s allowed to pick his brain because she’s still not sure she’s entitled to. she finds herself letting him go altogether, falling back against her mattress with elbows holding her up to keep her eyes on him. “ been really w-worried that no one’s been reminding you to w-wash your sheets and n-not spend all n-night on the treadmill. ” her face is written with genuine concern apart from the simper left on her lips and honey wishes she were kidding. boy, if she had a penny for every night she sat in bed with her phone in hand, typing some gentle reminder to him about one thing or another just to never send it.