#(tbf the pain isn’t constant)

[peonyblossom]

you know i used to think i didn’t really have sensory issues but then i realized that the way i feel about wearing shoes is Not Normal

[fadingdaggerr]

hello :] i had an idea / req for you!

melissa/reader where r is new around (new teachers aide, teacher, anything rly), they’re just new so melissa isn’t exactly head over heels yet. but then maybe smth happens to r where they’re in trouble or hurt and melissa ends up being to one to find and take care of them, and melissa realizes how quickly she’s growing attached OMFG THIS IS SO LONG AND SUCH A RAMBLE SORRY! run with it however you’d like xoxo -🧛🏻‍♀️

blush to ruby

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! think i stuck pretty true to it, i went with r getting hurt rather than an altercation just bc my last fic was more that route

warnings: hurt/comfort (but literal hurt. like pain hurt), mentions of blood and a non-serious injury, r should’ve had a that’s so raven moment tbf, kinda short oops

note: title is light to darker shade of red to show deepening feelings, in case u were curious. i wanted to call this “unfortunate foreshadowing” but it’s a little on the nose

melissa hates lunch duty. everyone does really, she wasn’t alone. but what no one ever really talks about, recess duty. the worst part was the screaming, the occasional crying, and the constant whining when it was time to go back inside. somehow after running around at top speeds for twenty minutes straight, the children the even more hyperactive.

maybe it wasn’t so bad. ever since you started at abbott last semester, melissa found herself enjoying the extra time with you. she liked the little one-on-one conversations with you that this time allowed her. melissa thought it was rather sweet how you interacted with the little eagles. she’d watch as you ran down the line of swings, pushing each student as they giggled and yelled higher, higher! but this week was a blessing to the children, mr. johnson finally inflated the sad looking dodgeballs in the recess bins. four-square is a very, very serious matter.

“alright little eagles, huddle up,” melissa shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth.

“time for the rules,” you say, getting a collective groan in return, “don’t give me the uuugh stuff, half of you break them before the game even starts.” you hear melissa chuckle beside you, making you visibly struggle to hide a smile.

“no hitting the ball when it’s not you’re turn. only hit the ball with your hands, not your face. i’m looking at you, tyler,” you give him a playful glare, he sticks his tongue out in response. “hit the ball out of the bounds, you’re out. if it bounces more than once in your square, you’re out. catch the ball, you’re out.”

the kids create their teams and start playing, you and melissa are really only there to stop them from literally butting heads, and to grab the ball if it rolls out. four rounds in and everyone was laughing and having fun. melissa particularly enjoyed being gifted a dandelion flower crown that you helped one of her students make, gently laying it on top of her hair.

“last round, then we’re heading back in!” you call to them. when they change players, it’s all fourth graders, only one of which was from your class. melissa could recall that when yasir had been in her second grade class, he mentioned his sister played volleyball at the high school, and she taught him all about it. melissa turns to give you the heads up right as the game starts. the ball bounces into yasir’s square, to which he smacks with all his might. the sheer speed of the ball gave you no time to duck, smacking you straight in the face.

your hands fly over your nose, eyes already watering from pain. melissa can hear the muffled string of swears under your hands and immediately jumps into action, although shaking a bit with need to help you. she ushers the kids back inside the lunchroom to get them to their teachers. she runs to janine and asks her to watch her kids, and teacher lee to watch yours, while she takes you to the nurse.

“nurse alayna isn’t here today, but her office has the same key as the conference rooms. just leave her a note if you take anything other than tissues,” lee says as they wave your students over to their group.

melissa settles on guiding to the office with a hand on your lower back, quietly telling you she’ll help you and that you’re okay. she sees more tears form in your eyes when your pull your hands back, blood covering your palms. her hold on your waist tightens with reassurance, your tears making her protectiveness over you grow. when you get into the office, she holds tissues to your nose as you wash your shaking hands.

you cringe when you sit on the paper covering the bench, the sound of it making the pain in your head worse somehow. melissa noticed and watched as you stood up to rip away the paper violently, muttering asshole under your breath. even when you were in pain and crying, you were still you.

she replaced your hold on the tissues as she carefully wiped away rogue tears and blood with a tissue, apologizing when you winced. “okay hon, i’m gonna have to look at it for real now,” she speaks softly, as if you’re a scared animal.

you shake your head and ramble, “no, no, i can do it. you don’t have to look at it, it’s probably disgusting.”

she drops the tissue to hold your hand, “i’ve seen worse, i was married to a man,” this makes you chuckle, then wince from the laugh. “i want to help. i’ll be careful, i promise,” she holds her pinky out to you. she feels your smile under her hand more than she can really see it, but her heart rate quickens when your pinky wraps around hers as tight as possible.

“what’s the damage, dr. schemmenti?”

pulling back the tissues, melissa can see that your nose and the area around it was swelling a little. she used a featherlight touch to graze her finger up the bridge of your nose, checking to see if it had been broken. a hiss of pain from you has her hand retracting, apology hot on her tongue.

“sorry, sorry. i’m a wuss with pain and blood and all that,” your hands have a vice grip on your knees as you rush your words.

melissa’s thumb caresses your wrist, “don’t apologize, it hurts like a bitch. i just need to lightly pinch the bridge to feel if it’s broken, okay?” you grimace at the question but nod. “just squeeze my hand if it hurts, don’t worry about hurting me,” she reassured you, holding your hand, interlocking your fingers.

only about three second later, with an almost broken hand, melissa concludes your nose is not broken. she gently cleans off the blood from your skin, so gentle you can barely feel the touch except for the fabric of the towel. your hand stays in melissa’s, the looser grip allows her to feel the anxious vibrations still running through you.

she decides she has to make you feel better, “once we get you all patched up, how about we raid the lollipops? i know she’s got some around here, she saves me the bubble gum ones.”

you laugh a bit, careful not to disrupt the last of her work, “bubble gum? what’s wrong with you?”

“they’re horrible and i love them, okay? what do you even like? strawberry or something else boring?”

“root beer. obviously.”

“you don’t even like root beer, you’re a diet coke purist. you told me root beer tasted like minty iced coffee,” melissa says as she throws out the tissues and disposable towel, making a note of them and the future candies.

your free hand rises, “listen the lolly version is better than the soda. and there’s no diet coke lollipop, now is there?”

melissa relishes in your laugh for a moment, “you got me there.”

you’re able to run out to your car to grab a sweatshirt to replace your stained shirt, melissa standing guard as you changed in the backseat. she held back a cackle at seeing a delicately embroidered cursive, reading bon fromage, with a small stitched image of a wheel of cheese on a boat beneath it. you try to hold back your own laugh as you say, “don’t even start, it’s all i had in the car.”

“no, it’s cute. it’s ridiculous, but very cute,” she responds with a stifled laugh.

“if you’re done laughing, i’ll take that lollipop now,” your say, holding your hand out.

melissa drops your root beer lollipop in your palm, but you quickly switch them. her eyes never leave you as you unwrap the candy and place it in your mouth. her heart rate picks up and her skin warms, she blinks rapidly to erase the totally platonic thoughts she was having.

intent eyes watch as your tongue moves the candy to the side of your mouth to speak, “okay, maybe it’s not so bad. but root beer is still better.”

“i told ya,” she mumbles as she unwraps her own lollipop and tries it, “dammit. you were right.” you laugh and give yourself a little round of applause at her response.

you clear your throat, suddenly nervous, “thank you. you didn’t have to, even if you say it’s fine. just, thank you anyways. i really do appreciate it, melissa.”

she wraps an arm around your shoulders, leading you back into the building as she thinks about how to respond, “and i’d do it again in a heartbeat if i had to.”

the rest of the day has melissa has this nagging need to check on you, even with only two and a half hours left in the day. she had to wrangle with herself to not rush to ask how are you or peek through the window and see for herself. the deep-seated feeling to protect you only quadrupled in size after seeing you in pain, feeling you grip her hand for support. taking care of you had felt second nature to the redhead.

when the kids cleared out, she quickly grabbed her things and walked to your classroom. she lingered in the doorway as she watched you pack away your planner and a couple folders for grading away into your bag. she knocked lightly on the doorframe to announce herself before she was caught staring, only to be met with soft eyes and a smile, a hand motioning her closer. as if she’d ever stray far from you again.

on the nose. get it :D i’m sorry.

feedback appreciated, love y’all big time

[myymi]

Hii! I live your HC rants, so can you please tell me about any of your wholesome or unwholesome HCs about Tails? (Mainly angst please because angst is fuel)

Keep up the good work!

heyy!! 💛🌼✨

wholesome:

when listening to music, his tails will move along to the beat of the song playing without him realizing

when he’s tired, he finds his nearest sibling and just flops on top of them, they’re trapped now cause baby needs his sleep

he’ll talk about anything to anyone who’s willing to listen to him

he chases his tails when bored or frustrated

he’s really protective :] say smthn mean about his friends/family, you’re in for a fun ride

he keeps a calendar in his workshop that’s completely full of birthdays and other important events (wether that b important to him, or important to one of his friends <3)

he keeps literally every gift he’s given, no matter how bad or inexpensive it is. he cherishes EVERYTHING (he marks down who gave him what in a notebook, just in case he can’t remember)

the rest are under the cut, but read the tws first;

(TWs//child abandonment, past torment, war, death, kidnapping, ed)

angsty:

he has constant nightmares. whether they be from his past, one of times he’s been kidnapped, the war against infinite, etc.

when he first started running around with sonic, he would force himself to run/fly until he physically couldn’t pick himself up

the reason he froze up when faced with chaos zero is because he saw sonic’s “dead” body on the ground in front of him

he fully blamed himself for sonic getting captured by infinite, part of the reason he ran from the resistance was to punish himself. he thought he didn’t deserve to be near his loved ones, and was also a little scared he’d get them hurt too

he’s a little insecure still, even after all this time spent with sonic </3

he gets super scared when sonic isn’t back when he says he will be (scared that something might have happened to him, or that sonic decided to leave him for good)

he’s still got a lot of bad habits he picked up from his time on westside (randomly stops breathing, makes his tails morph into one when meeting new people, etc.)

he’s got tons of scars from the bullies on westside :(

he refuses to build anything that’s not useful in battle/everyday life unless it’s a gift for someone. he’s convinced everything he builds needs a use or purpose

he hates it when people tell him he’s “just a kid” because he doesn’t feel like a kid anymore (he never really has tbf)

he really enjoys doing things normal 8yos do, but is so incredibly embarrassed about it that he’d never let anyone besides sonic see him do it

when he first started tagging along on sonic’s adventures, he developed an eating disorder from over eating because his body wasn’t used to regularly digesting food </3

^due to that, it stunted his growth :( he's gonna be a little guy for the rest of his life

the bullies on westside caused so much pain to his tails, he can’t feel practically anything that touches them. they’re too usued to being pulled, stepped on, broke, etc.

he hid his astraphobia from sonic for a while because he was worried he’d be left behind because of it

(this is two hcs in one lol)

even though his parents abandoned him, he still loves them and actually misses them </3 and he hates that he does :(

[fleetofshippyships]

Oh man, I missed living rural but also damn the downsides suck too XD

Pros:

THE VIEW, I got up early enough (tradies coming early to work on the house) to catch dawn breaking this morning and 👌👌👌👌👌👌

Go outside and fresh crisp air and nothing but birdsong and maybe some animals and maybe the distant (or not so distant) comforting rumble of a tractor

ALL THE FRUIT TREES, no seriously, they have like ALL THE FRUIT TREES, I’m so damn excited for good citrus fruits again and not the shit at the far south supermarkets, and what they don’t have (apricot, cherry, nectarine, peach), Emily is as keen as me to plant and should grow and fruit well enough here, also, there are several feijoa trees and Emily doesn’t like feijoas so MORE FOR ME YASSSSS and also the persimmon tree is fucking loaded I can’t wait until they’re ready cos I haven’t had persimmon in years but I’M SO KEEN

THE ANIMALS, I mean, they only have sheep and a couple of pigs, but still ANIMALS, there’s also, oddly, a lot of quail (the pretty ones too), a bunch of them just passed by outside the window actually XD also, FANTAILS! seeing a fantail fluttering around outside just fills me with joy! I’ve also already seen rabbits around, and right up to the house, though I have to temper the RABBIT reaction with BUT THEY’RE A PEST 😒 but still...RABBITS. and we’re absolutely gonna get a non-farm dog at some point, and there’s a cat arriving from her parent’s house in May. (there is a farm dog, his name is ‘dog’ XD I met him when he was slinking into the kitchen knowing full well he wasn’t allowed in the house XD)

Cons:

SPIDERS (tbf the house isn’t sealed yet, so once the architraves are up and the skirting boards on, I will make it spider free, oh boy, just you wait you little shits! I was pretending not finding a white-tail meant they weren’t around and that was going great for me UNTIL I FOUND A GIANT ONE IN EMILY’S ROOM, I can live with other spiders if I must BUT NOT WHITE TAILS SO NOW I LIVE IN TERROR)

MOSQUITOS (altho tbf this is more of a north vs south thing, I was just lucky it was too cold for them where I was living before, so they never appeared even in summer, it’s autumn now and there are still some around and I am 😒)

SHITTY SHITTY INTERNET (I have been spoiled, spoiled rotten by gigabit and now I’m on rural broadband, so now my ping on genshin shoots up to 999 sometimes and the game becomes totally non-functional until the internet sorts its shit out, tumblr(web) won’t load images, internet randomly drops sometimes (in particular my phone can’t seem to hold onto the wifi even when my laptop has a perfectly fine connection, which is bloody odd but I guess I’ll finally be using the data on my mobile plan XD luckily tkrb doesn’t seem to use much), will probably have problems livestreaming tkrb performances 😭 I’ll find out soon enough, it’s still a couple of years until fibre is installed out this way cos the rural roll out is slow af so 😭😭😭😭 altho, tbh, I was on dial-up (and dial-up that dropped frequently when there was a shorting fence) right up to and through Uni whenever I visited home so it’s not like I can’t adapt, just ugh I have been spoiled and so much of my life and pain management tools are online now since I’m so housebound by my condition)

POLLEN. I don’t know yet cos it’s autumn but I suspect I will be highly allergic, my hayfever tends to get more and more severe the further north I go, while down south it was not a problem and easily removed with a single anti-histamine during summer, I am primarily allergic to trees and grasses and just moved to the country again 😩 really hoping it won’t be bad, but...😬 not looking forward to being shut up inside with all the windows shut in the height of summer just so I can breathe and not do myself a damage with constant sneezing fits cos taking max anti-histamines does absolutely nothing for it when I’m north

No takeout delivery when I have no spoons for cooking 😭

Neutral:

Mice (the house is not sealed yet, so yeah, mice). tbh not bothered, spent the first half of my life catching them after the cats let them go so meh, but Emily’s reaction to them is fucking hilarious so they’re almost a positive now XD and the urge to catch one just to tease her with is immense XD (Emily is raised townie so in general her reactions to shit are hilarious and I’m still so salty I couldn’t be here from the get go to see her adapt to rural life XD)

anyway yeah, I have missed farm life but living 10 years in a city has spoiled me rotten. but anyway, have this rambly post XD I was waiting for Emily to get back from an early appt in town and she’s back now AND SHE BOUGHT ME BACK BAKED GOODS FOR BREAKFAST 🤤🤤🤤

[illuseyes-blog]

WHAT SHAPE DOES YOUR PAIN TAKE ?

a glass cage

You feel disconnected from the world around you. You can see everything, everyone can see you, but you're not really there. No one can really communicate with you, can they? You're isolated, even when you're around people. You're alone. You want desperately to be close to someone, but you're afraid of what will happen if you shatter your glass prison. You don't want to let someone in, you don't want to leave, and it's a constant battle of your own will. It's easier to be alone, where no one can hurt you... Isn't it?

tagged by: @fcrtunestold ty !! tagging: anyone who hasn’t done this yet tbf!

[wavemaker9]

I've mentioned about 20 times that i love speedster/teleporter friendships and how i wish there was a speedster in the superpower au for kyle but like. why not lowkey throw blake in with speedster powers because they already have pretty damn close to the relationship i'd want from that. friendly but also constant rivalry and having to one up the other. for an instant i was gonna argue the idea because my headcanon for how nz behaves isn't that fast energetic type that speedsters always tend to be, like they're more energetic around friends but kyle's always more energy go go go than nz is imo. but i also kind of like that? break that fucking stereotype. this kid that's relatively quiet and polite. can be sarcastic and mocking and friendly and energetic and trouble too but very subtle about it, and similarly, keeps the superspeed pretty under wraps. kind of a middle ground between toni and kyle. Toni is relatively secretive about his powers and doesn't use them much, while kyle, as someone who is scared about his secret coming up, still uses his powers like. a lot? always in private but he uses them constantly. Blake using the superspeed in public more often because they know they can get away with it, and they do use it, but they don't tend to do such risky constant use as kyle does. tbf though, kyle absolutely being a bad influence on them and getting them to use their speed more, mainly for goofs, both on others and, unintentionally for kyle, on kyle himself. you've encouraged this speedster to use their super fast speed to do stupid pranks on people, you've created a monster, kyle.

whether it's blake or someone else, kyle racing with the speedster (i'm just gonna say blake because i do love that and until i find someone better i'm running with it). who can get from this part of the city to this part faster? probably doing it at night so less obvious, blake on the streets while kyle jumping from roof top to roof top because the flashes are brighter in the dark, but the height above the city helps cover that up plus help him more easily see where he can jump to next. one night blake getting there way before kyle, like at least a minute or so before, usually they're neck in neck, blake has speed by kyle doesn't have to cover the whole distance that blake still has to run over. starting to kinda get worried and debating if they should head back to check on him or if htat's a trick of his and he'll jump in once they leave so he can say he got there before he saw them their. however, that kinda settled when their phone starts ringing. kyle on the other end sounding in pain the moment blake answers, says the building he's on and admits it was dark and he couldn't see that well and he kinda teleported into some metal fencing and caught part of his leg on it and he barely managed to teleport out of it again, but he's worn out and in pain now and he can't really walk to climb down without help so- suddenly blake's telling him to hold on, they need two hands to climb the ladder. a moment later they're racing up the final bit of the fire escape and up onto the roof looking for him. blake sitting with kyle, helping him wrap his leg, and talking shit about what a rookie mistake that was, getting careless with his powers, but also like with the clearest tone of huge concern. probably calls ivan to have him help get kyle down since his teleporting isn't super stable when he's in pain and he doesn't want to risk hurting himself more trying to teleport so he can avoid the part of the firescape that requires straight up and down climbing.

[diary4]

11/6/18

I want to pick up on yesterdays ‘to be continued’ and finish filling you in on the ‘major breakthrough’, but first, quick catch up. I couldn’t finish telling you about it yesterday because I’d been cooped up (locked in the bathroom, sat on the floor, leaning against the shower door, crying etc) for a long time and thought I ought to go downstairs and be with Dad. When I came down Amrit and Manjeet were there, sitting outside with Dad and Uncle Johnny and Tony and Angie on the patio. They had olives and salami and tapasy things out and people were chuckling and talking about Brexit (Manjeet’s in the cabinet office now – friends in high. Really should enquire about experience). It was strange because it felt like everything was back to normal and I kept catching myself looking around the table and wondering where Mum was or which seat Mum would sit in. Strange. Anyway Anne-Marie and Harriet and Chrissy came round (intrigue – really must find out how the marriage broke up) and then Max arrived, and it all started to feel nice. The tone was not happy necessarily but somehow celebratory – maybe it was something to do with everyone keep banging on about how Mum had lived her life exactly how she wanted to and really had had the best life she ever could have, which gets truer the more I think about it. She never went without, she never knew great pain, she never had to come to terms with significant loss (Larry keeps saying how, because Grandma and Grandad were so estranged from their families, they’ve never been through death and funerals before). She travelled widely, she lived well, anything she wanted she got and she never had to kill herself working for it, but rather kept busy with a job that she loved. People mention such facts with the tossed around label ‘small mercies’, but really they’re very big. At the end of the day, everyone has a limited time on the planet, and the only consolation we get for it isn’t a decade or two tacked on at the end, but the quality of the time you’ve had. For how much better it makes me feel, I reckon that’s a pretty big mercy.

Another small mercy that’s actually pretty fucking girthy – Chrissy parroted month younger me when he said about how the whole thing feels unjust and unfair and why me. Dad answered for me, saying that you get over that, because really it’s a nonsensical way of looking at things. There are babies, children who haven’t even learnt to walk yet who get diagnosed with the very same thing. Against eighteen months Mum’s fifty five years look pretty bloody kushty. And it’s not just that. There are people who lose their whole village in wars or get born into abusive families. What about that bitch that got chained up in the basement and raped by her Dad for twenty years? Where’s the justice in that? Fact is we live in an unfair world and you’ll go mad trying to right all the wrongs in it so all you can do is try and stick a big fuck you up to the whole lot of it by being very very happy.

I know it sounds like I’m really really okay with everything and even happy about some things, and I suppose that in a sense I am because in a way, there’s a great sense of relief, that now the suffering is over and were on the upwards slope. We’ve got past the halfway nadir and now its back on the up – bizarrely, things are looking up. That’s not to say I’m not devastated and I don’t miss Mum every minute of the day and that whenever the doorbell rings I don’t have a moment of wild hope that she’ll come shuffling through the door. But what it is is that I’ve gotten used to being devastated, and I can’t really remember what it feels like not having a hole in your heart. Maybe that’s just growing up – learning to live with pain is symptomatic of living itself. Life is a disease an incurable disease of which pain is a primary symptom (others include happiness, joy – expand the metaphor).

Anyway. Yesterday panned out pretty much as expected. Had a mish mash buffet for dinner. Made pesto to have pesto pasta then didn’t fancy it so jarred it and fridged it (even better the morning after – will have tonight). Did some shooting with Max and Harriet. Watched Love Island then, when everyone except me and Dad and Ellie had trickled away watched the end of Pulp Fiction. Front room felt empty without Mum. Anyway, was suddenly knackered and kept falling asleep – what is it about that final scene of Pulp that I can never seem to make it through without falling sleep? Still don’t know really understand what happens with Tim Roth.

Went to bed. Dad came woke me up in the morning coming in for a hug. One thing I will say – I was very worried things would be difficult and awkward between us and Dad, but I’ve been happily surprised. Yes, it’s a little awkward because we’re all having to adjust and he’s heartbroken and we’re all very sad – but I think we’ll be okay. We’ve been speaking very freely, and I keep going over and hugging him or holding his hand – not just to make a point, I’m glad to say, but because when I see him looking heartbroken across the table my whole being yearns to cuddle up. He’s the only parent I’ve got left.

I started writing this entry this morning when Janet and Chris, and then a little later Sarah, we’re around and Dad was out arranging the funeral. Made awkward chat with Chris and Janet, then, to my pleasant surprise, had a very enjoyable and ‘free-flowing’ chat with Sarah when she came over (look here, her daughter is closer to my age than she is yet she clearly views me as her equal as opposed to Paris’s – symptomatic of our biological relationship ‘cousins’?). Chatted about driving instructors and stuff, then Dad came back with Uncle Tony and John and Johnny and we all sat outside and sorted through lists of people to come and stuff. Its odd but I take a strange joy in funerals. I thoroughly enjoyed Nanny and Grandad’s (apart from that horrid bit with Dad crying), was thrilled by Aunt Lizzie’s and rather excited for Auntie Mary’s. I thought it would be different this time and that I would absolutely fucking hate it – my position for much of the past few months has actually been that I would ask to be excused from the whole thing. And while there’s still a lot of apprehension, it was nice planning it today – made me feel like we had a purpose, maybe like there was a reason for the whole thing. My mood towards the funeral in general has shifted since yesterday, and I’m now viewing it exclusively as a celebration of Mum rather than a lament. After all, why must death be a sorrowful occasion? Why must we mourn loss? Isn’t life’s ephemeral nature what makes it so beautiful after all? I don’t know. Maybe I can only say all these things coming from a perspective of having already been in mourning for a month – or, more terrifyingly, from still being in shock and unable to process the death. Maybe I just like feeling like part of a big family, and feeling like everyone is around to look after us – maybe I just like seeing how much better Uncle Johnny is doing these days (really, really – glowing, I have to say. An act put on for our benefit?). Or perhaps (more cynical) I just can’t wait to be the attention, to see all my friends, to get pissed and finally be the punter rather than the waiter, to sit outside and bask in an open bar. Who knows. Even if it does seem a bit irreverent, I think Mum would rather I enjoyed it than dreaded it.

Anyway that turned into a fucking long recap but it does cover the whole of today/ yesterday afternoon so.

But back to the breakthrough:

I think it may be partially responsible for the good relationship with Smarl we’ve enjoyed over the past 24 hrs. Truth is that the next thing I found in Mum’s manila memories envelope told me more about him that anyone else. They were three letters to Mum from Dad, which he scrawled on hotel stationary in the early 90s. So the first thing that struck me about them was that Mum and Dad’s relationship as presented in these private, pre-parenthood letters was exactly the same as the relationship I’ve known them to have my whole life. The jokes were the same (Toady, ‘A Toad Abroad’) – the bloody syntax and lexicon were the same. I don’t know, I feel like all children suspect their parents are putting on a show for them, and that really there’s something strange that they never see. Of course, the suspicion tends that this hidden je ne sais quas is of a *sexual* nature, and I was steeled for mention of this as I tiptoed through the letters. And, of course, it did rear its head when halfway through one letter, which takes the form of a lodged complaint about Mum not spending time with Dad even though he took the morning off work to be with her, he mentions a lack of ‘The Naughties’. I paused there. So that’s what they called it. I suppose every couple has a codeword – Charlie and I have ‘sexy time’, don’t we. Not going to lie, it felt pretty perverted prying on my parents sex life like that. Anyway, I was grateful to Dad for encoding the thing because it made me feel comfortable enough to read on. Cue the phrase that’s still kind of doing my head in because it’s so achingly beautiful and beyond anything I thought my parents were capable off, especially my mid twenties father. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a hell of a lot of affection in the letters – Dad is clearly smitten, he talks about keeping a photo of Mum with him on his travels and about always wanting to be with her and talk to her and missing her constantly and I mean ffs no boy has ever written me a bloody letter despite my constant requests so he obviously had it bad. But the tone of the relationship was banterous, friendly – again, don’t get me wrong, in a good way. In places Dad is just downright hilarious – one of the letters is addressed as being from ‘Paul Murphy, International Businessman, The World’. They sound like relationship goals tbf – jokes guy, beautiful woman he’s head over heals with, comfortable friendly rapport (at one point he calls for more naughties with the parenthesised ‘Better effort next time Boyce!’). But while there’s clearly an incredible amount of love and affection, there isn’t a lot of room besides all this for morbid sexual passion. They aren’t thrusting hips and craving lips etc (thank god). Except for this one place, this one line, which stands out like, idk, like a graveyard in a flowerbed, like a bullet in a plate of pee, like a human heart in pile of heart shaped pillows. Dad writes how much he’s been missing Mum, and how it’s tough for him to have not seen her for five weeks because ‘every time I see you I want to jump on your bones’. ‘Jump on your bones’. God, I fucking wish I’d come up with that. I had to reread it twice over to make sure I had it right but there’s no mistake, that’s what it says, the handwriting is clear. What is that, a quote. What does that even mean? Jump on your bones… God, what an expression of absolute longing for another person.

The sexual references did get more explicit. On the page after the bones Dad writes ‘have a nice time on holiday, bring me back some porn films’ which I actually laughed at but which was also something of a ‘caution: danger ahead sign’, because at the bottom of the page was a drawing of a dick with an arrow and caption of something like ‘he needs attention’- but I slammed the thing shut before I could read more. No one needs to know their parents that well.

So yeah. That was revealing. I think the main thing I got from it was, like I said, an insight into Dad rather than Mum, and an insight into just how much she meant to him. This was more than just the love of his life – it was one of the greatest loves of any life. He’s a generous and caring person with an excellent capacity for loving other people, but what she brought out in him was special even for that. That relationship, those early days of dreaming and just wanting to be together all the time. He must be fucking dying. I wish there was more I could do. My first thought was to return those letters to the drawer so that he could find them and have them, but now I’m not sure. I’m afraid they’ll make him really sad. Don’t know if it’s my decision to make. Need to talk to someone. Don’t fancy talking to Charlie about it – if I’m honest, the whole situation has made me rather cool towards him. There I was thinking we had something akin to Mum and Dad. I don’t think it’s even half of that. And honestly, I don’t think it’s me, I think it’s him. Maybe I’m just being harsh, maybe he’s just not as good as Dad at expressing his emotions. Even so. I think it’s my right to be picky, having something like that to hold boys up against – the bar is very high. Touche Paulie – the bar is very very high.

This morning before anyone arrived Dad, Ellie and I sat out on the patio and had our respective breakfasts in the sun. Felt strange again. Empty chair staring at me across the table. What it felt like exactly was the end scene of a film, which has been cut to suddenly after some great dramatic fight. And what you see in the scene is three characters that you knew were safe talking around a table, but really you’re just sitting on the edge of your seat waiting to see if the person who was badly injured in the fight made it out alive. And all the characters except this one person are just sitting around, and you can see them all but you don’t care you’re just waiting and waiting, and they drag it out right up until the final frame of the film when at last you get to let out that sigh of relief and leave the cinema on a high – they made it! Except, obviously, without getting morose, this isn’t one of those films this one ends poignant and sad and you don’t leave on a hip hop high you leave on a slow mow low.