#and I find myself stuck there mental illness wise where I believe that you have to emphasize and bolster as much happiness and goodness

[nullcoast]

The world is fucking disgusting

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Nineteen: I May Think of You Softly

The angst is starting to hot up now, because we can’t have a Chishiya fic without it :) 

As always, you can also read this on AO3 here. 

Just adding this because I’ve gotten a few messages about it, but once this fic comes to an end, I’ll start reading the manga properly so I can eventually write a part 2/sequel! 

While I’m reading it though, I want to make a collection of one-shots based on this fic from Chishiya’s pov. I have a few scenes in mind to focus on, but if there are some you’d like to see, just drop me a message, comment, carrier pigeon etc... and let me know! 

----------------------------------------------

‘It’s time.’

They were simple words, but they carried an awful lot of weight. The plan had to go perfectly, otherwise we were finished.

Arisu’s voice sounded from the other line. ‘Is everyone getting into position?’

I picked up the walkie talkie and headed to the door, only for Kuina to grab my arm and stop me. Perplexed, I opened my mouth to ask her why, but her pleading expression silenced me as she took the walkie talkie from my hand.

At the same moment, a new voice – Usagi’s – came through. ‘I’m in the hall, keeping lookout.’  

Never taking her eyes from mine, Kuina’s hand tightened around my arm. She pressed the button to activate the walkie talkie. ‘We’re watching over the elevator to the top floor.’

Except we weren’t. We were here, in my room.

Kuina??

Once again, I began to ask her what was happening, but she shook her head, shushing me. The guilt in her eyes was unmistakable. ‘The coast is clear,’ she said into the walkie talkie.

Then it became awfully, awfully apparent what was going on.

‘The new leader is making a speech in the lobby,’ Chishiya said, ‘and all the executives and militants are at the annex. I’ll let you all know if there are any changes.’ There was a pause. ‘This is our only chance. I’m counting on you, Arisu.’

Shrugging out of Kuina’s hold, I sat down on the bed, trying to process the situation. This had been his plan from the start. Not the official plan, but a fake one: to use Arisu and Usagi to locate the safe, and to let them take the fall. Chishiya may know the passcode, but the location of the safe is something that can only be discovered once you actually go into the room.

He’s using them as his guinea pigs.  

‘I’m in the Royal Suite now,’ Arisu said. ‘Though I can’t see anything that looks like a safe. Just give me a minute.’ My knee began to bounce nervously as the line went quiet. Then his voice crackled through, triumphant, ‘I’ve found it!’

A puff of air sounded from the other line, and I could practically hear Chishiya’s smirk. ‘The code, it’s 8022.’

There was a pause. ‘How do you know?’ Arisu asked. ‘Did you see inside the black envelope?’

I leaned forward, curious about how Chishiya had managed to figure it out simply by sitting in the same room. There were two possibilities here. Either Chishiya knew perfectly well what the passcode was, and he would concoct a lie to give to Arisu, or he only had an inkling about the passcode, and he was using Arisu to test it out.

‘No,’ Chishiya said, ‘but I didn’t need to. Aguni’s expression told me everything. He was surprised at first, then he was confused. I believe the paper inside was blank.’

‘Blank? But what about the passcode you just told me?’ Arisu asked.

There was an amused hum. ‘The wax seal. You remember Hatter’s ring… it was stamped with the word ‘BOSS’. When the wax seal was stamped, the embossing left numbers. That was the true code.’

You really are incredible, and not necessarily in a good way.

It certainly sounded convincing enough, though until Arisu tested it, there was no way of knowing whether this was the genuine truth, or an impressive sounding lie. And judging by the way things were going, he would find out very quickly.

My heart broke for Arisu as he spoke with pure, blind amazement. ‘Chishiya, I’d hate to be your enemy.’

I held my breath, waiting for the worst as silence ensued. This was a setup, after all. I glanced at Kuina, but she only looked at me apologetically.

Why does he have to be so cruel?

‘Chishiya??’ Arisu’s voice shook. ‘Chishiya, the code’s wrong?’

The static shut off into silence.

------------------------------------------

Even the stale air of my room tasted bitter as I gripped my walkie talkie, turning it over in my palm. It was tempting to just toss into the dustbin and wash my hands of the whole thing, yet I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Chishiya had backed me into a corner. It would be too dangerous to stay at the Beach now that the militants had taken over, but I also resented Chishiya for stringing me along in such a dreadful scheme.

Kuina was waiting for me in the hall outside. Now that the militants were busy with Arisu and Usagi, the royal suite was unguarded. This was the final test. The real plan. But as for whether or not I joined them…. I didn’t have a choice, or at least, it seemed that way. I remembered the words that I’d told Hatter when I first arrived at the Beach.

‘I still have a choice. It’s just that one of the options doesn’t look too great.’

There was always the option to stay and pretend that I had nothing to do with it. Except there was an obvious downside; Niragi wouldn’t settle for that. He’d be out for blood. My blood. It was either possible death or certain death… freedom or confinement. I knew which one I preferred.

‘Though wise men at the end know dark is right, because their words forked no lightning they do not go gentle into that good night.’

It was funny how fittingly Dylan Thomas’ poem sprung to mind now. I was going to die. That was inevitable. But I still wanted my voice to be heard. I still wanted to chase the meaning of it all.

Pocketing the walkie talkie, I walked towards the door. It almost felt sad. All the textbooks I had been given, the books that had kept me sane this entire time… I would have to leave them behind. They were gifts from Chishiya, but after what he’d done to Arisu, they were tainted. I shut the door behind me, quite possibly for the last time.

Kuina was leaning against the opposite wall, and when she saw me, her expression was one of relief.

‘For a minute, I thought you weren’t coming.’

I tried to smile. ‘For a minute, so did I.’

The hotel was quiet as we made our way to the top floor, it became apparent how quiet it was. The militants and executives were likely dealing Arisu and Usagi by now, and I hated to think of what was currently happening to them. Perhaps this was another reason Chishiya wanted to use them; as a distraction.

‘I don’t like it either,’ Kuina said. Her jaw was rigid. ‘I really don’t like it. But I have to get home to my mother.’

Some of the bitterness I felt softened. I couldn’t fault her for that. Not really. She had told me once, while we were on the rooftop, about her mother being the only one to accept her after her gender reassignment, and now her mother was ill, yet she was stuck here, unable to help. She had tried asking about my own life, although I’d brushed it away at the time.

‘My brother,’ I said after a moment. ‘I want to get back to him. He’s older than me, a psychologist. He went into psychology to research treatment options for certain mental health conditions. My mother isn’t happy… to put it mildly. She’s a mess. Probably it’s something to do with being married to my dad, or maybe it’s genetic.’

Kuina went quiet at first, then took the quit-smoking aide from her mouth. ‘Are you two close?’

I shrugged. ‘I suppose we are. We both grew up in the same place, and we both have that understanding. He was always the one who went first, and I’d follow him. He wasn’t scared of anything, not even my dad.’

Kuina and I didn’t say anything more after that. We were nearing the top floor now, and even though I couldn’t see him, I knew that Chishiya was lurking somewhere, waiting for us to give him the all-clear.

As planned, Kuina handed me a second walkie talkie, and I took my place at the end of the hall, looking out for any executives. Meanwhile, Kuina took watch outside the royal suite, where she could see Aguni’s room. So far, Aguni had remained in his old room, despite being the new number-one, and since Arisu and Usagi’s capture, he had yet to emerge.

Chishiya’s voice sounded through the walkie talkie. ‘You two, how are things on your side?’

Just the sound of his voice brought with it a mixture of anger… despair… betrayal… relief… and love. Even that. How was it that now, when I had never been more hurt by him, I still craved the safety I found in his voice.

I don’t know who I hate more, him or myself.

I didn’t particularly want to speak with him. But ignoring him wasn’t an option either. ‘You’re all good to go from where I’m standing.’

‘Aguni’s still in his room,’ Kuina’s voice crackled through. ‘We’re getting bored now.’

‘Then should we get going with the plan?’ he suggested.

I clicked my tongue, eyes scanning either side of the empty hall. ‘We’ve already gotten going. It’s you who needs to hurry up.’

‘Patience,’ was the curt reply.

I didn’t hear anything, but I knew that somewhere down the hall, Chishiya was entering the royal suite. ‘I don’t know if Arisu is stupid or intelligent,’ he said. ‘Hatter was paranoid. He wouldn’t have hidden the cards in a normal safe.’

Did Arisu try breaking into one of the hotel’s guest safes?

‘Where’s the real one then?’ Kuina asked. She sounded tired and weary.

‘When Arisu was caught,’ Chishiya replied, ‘Aguni wasn’t paying attention. He was looking towards a certain picture on the wall. It turns out the paper wasn’t empty after all. It contained a drawing instead.’

It was impressive how Chishiya was able to figure these things out through body language alone. For someone who seemed to have no concept of how people behaved, he sure paid attention to our behavioral patterns.

‘So, you had no idea where it was until then?’ I asked.

‘Exactly,’ Chishiya said. ‘What happened to Arisu was necessary if we were going to find the real safe. Speaking of which, I’ve found it.’

The way he talked about it was chilling. Not so much the words themselves, but the ease in which he spoke them, the lack of hesitation.

Kuina seemed to be thinking the same thing, as she sighed into the walkie talkie. ‘You used him just for that?’

The response was immediate. ‘In order to gain something, you have to lose something. He’s just a sacrifice. Things like this happen a lot, don’t they?’

The level of self-assurance behind those words… it was brutal. I always knew he was like this, but what did that mean for me and Kuina? Were we just pawns like Arisu and Usagi? Would our deaths be necessary too?

‘No, they don’t.’ Kuina said. ‘Not at all. I really don’t want to be your enemy.’

At this, I almost laughed. When I first met Chishiya, I had thought the same thing, and earlier today, Arisu had said something similar himself.

‘I get that a lot,’ Chishiya replied.

Perhaps everyone is his enemy. Perhaps the only person he sees surviving the Borderlands is himself.

The idea was a harsh philosophy, but it made sense. Chishiya had always made me feel like insignificant just through his calculating gaze alone. In that sense, he was just like my own father, and chances are that was why I was drawn to him. In this crazy parallel world, feeling small was the only thing familiar to me.

Maybe, in order to gain my own freedom, I have to lose Chishiya.

--------------------------------------------

Now that the sun had set over the skyline, the evening had turned still and cold. Aside from the hum of cicadas and the chatter of crickets, it was quiet. Leaning against the outside wall of the hotel, I wrapped my arms around me, although it did nothing to stave off the shivers that tickled my skin. Nor did it melt the wedge of icy determination that had buried itself within me.

I’ll follow him for the sake of leaving the Beach… but I refuse to let myself love him.

I had never been a good liar.

To my right, Kuina was leaning against a lamppost, staring guiltily at the ground. Meanwhile, Chishiya removed his numbered wristband as he strolled towards a decorative brick archway that led out of the hotel grounds. ‘I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.’

‘Don’t you feel sorry?’ Kuina asked quietly.

He stopped. ‘Sorry?’

I looked at him curiously, wondering how he could seem so calm. ‘About what happened to Arisu… I feel really sorry for him. We both do.’

Kuina nodded, folding her arms tighter. ‘Don’t you?’

Chishiya’s eyes flitted to mine, and for the first time, I saw genuine surprise there.

Show me a sign… please give me a reason why I should trust you.

‘Is there anything we wouldn’t do in order to survive?’

A shudder ran through me, and this time, it had nothing to do with the breeze. His words confirmed my every suspicion, but I couldn’t let myself feel so disappointed. I needed to block it all out… block everything out.

Then he smiled. It would’ve been easy to mistake it for his usual smile, if not for the hint of bitterness there. ‘If you both feel so worried, then maybe you should go and help him.’

Kuina looked at him, eyes wide with regret. However, she didn’t move. Neither of us could. We both had our own reasons why we needed to survive and return home. Knowing this well, Chishiya took a step towards the arch, only to stop once more. His brow furrowed as he whispered something under his breath.

Growing impatient, I pushed away from the wall and walked towards the exit… towards freedom.

‘Stop.’

Chishiya’s hand clasped around my wrist, dragging me back. I yanked my arm away immediately, both hating and loving the feeling of his fingers on my skin. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

Kuina appeared at my side, and the three of us watched tentatively as Chishiya tossed his wristband through the arch. A red laser burst through the plastic, leaving behind a singed hole.

I stepped back, horrified. This couldn’t be… could it?

The Beach is a game arena??

[dropintomanga]

“My Broken Mariko” Reveals a Broken Real World

“I’m so broken...I don’t know where to start fixing myself anymore.”

As someone who’s experienced thoughts of suicidal ideation, I can say that Waka Hirako’s My Broken Mariko is a title that hits me harder than most media do when it comes to the topic of suicide. The manga, which I think is one of the best manga of 2020, does not hold any hands throughout the story and there’s so much to unpack. Reading this has made me think about my thought process on suicide and my belief that suicide is a very systemic issue that involves everyone.

My Broken Mariko is about a young woman named Tomoyo Shiino, who just found out her best friend since childhood, Mariko Ikagawa, killed herself a week after they hung out. Filled with despair and unable to process Mariko’s death, Tomoyo decides to go to visit the home of Mariko’s parents and steal Mariko’s ashes from them. Mariko had a history of being abused ever since she was little, so Tomoyo felt it was her duty to free Mariko from that burden. After taking Mariko’s ashes, Tomoyo goes on a journey to a place called Marigaoka Cape as she remembers Mariko wanted to go there with her. Tomoyo goes through hell and back to let Mariko’s ashes be free in nature, but she does eventually start to realize that the best way to honor Mariko’s life is to keep living.

I’m not sure where to start with this. I’ve read multiple interviews with Waka Hirako since there was a good amount of promotion for My Broken Mariko. I wasn’t prepared for how absolutely realistic this story was. And I’m glad for that. Mariko’s history of being abused by her parents (and also a boyfriend when was an adult) shows how prevalent victim-blaming is. Mariko tells Tomoyo that her parents blame her for acting in ways that aren’t to their standards. Everything’s her fault, Mariko says. While Tomoyo was there to support her, Mariko didn’t have extra help beyond that. She had no one else, professional and/or peer-wise, who can empathize with her struggles. Mariko felt too defined by her circumstances to the point where she didn’t know who to turn to anymore for the help she truly needed.

In one moment of her journey to Marigaoka Cape, Tomoyo lashes out in anger at Mariko and herself at a bar. The words she says made me think about how suicide is treated by almost everyone.

“My memories of her keep fading away, even as I stand here! I’ll only remember her as perfect...even though - I thought she was such a pain...so many times..!”

The last part where Tomoyo where she said that Mariko was annoying due to her constant troubles says a lot. Almost everyone doesn’t know how to deal with heavy issues. We’re not equipped to talk about darkness because emotions are placed in this dichotomy of being either good or bad. I sometimes thinks no one wants to admit that we might end up in bad situations ourselves compared to anyone we love who’s suffering/has suffered.

I’ve been thinking a lot of suicide prevention lately as suicide rates continue to rise despite more awareness and helplines. There’s a question posed by a mental health professional about where to go with dealing with loss in this Mad in America article about suicide hotlines tracing calls to the harm of disenfranchised people who need help.

“Is it the path where everyone is so terrified to talk about suicide because of consequences, like having the cops called on you even by confidential hotlines? Or is it the path where we know that we’re going to lose people, and we create as much space as we possibly can to be with people in darkness and talk openly about this and support people?”  

I wondered if people like Mariko were so afraid to talk about their emotional pain due to fear of consequences. I also wondered if people like Tomoyo are unable to deal with so much darkness. I remember how I was hospitalized back then and how my high school friends all distanced themselves from me slowly but surely. No one wanted to put up with my mental illness back then.

Also, I wanted to kill myself back in 2016. I made an awful mistake of saying that I wanted to die on Twitter. I thought someone wanted me dead. A colleague of mine thankfully called a hotline for help. Police actually came to my door that night after midnight. I calmed myself before then after realizing I couldn’t do it. My interaction with the cops ended up with no consequences.

To be honest, I’m afraid of dealing with cops and hospitals due to my mental illness. I didn’t enjoy my hospital experience because it felt so limiting. I also realized at the time, my mental illness wasn’t as bad as it was initially perceived. I did discuss that I faked hearing voices in my head for attention. It’s tricky for professionals to handle cases like me because you do have to take things seriously when it comes to mental illness. 

But I also realize that the mental health system is sometimes too standardized for its own good. A bunch of its solutions do not work well with people (especially minorities) that experience trauma from societal circumstances. A mental health treatment that works well with middle-class white folks may not work at all with a black person stuck in poverty. Yes, Mariko was so broken that she was beyond help. But what if the help she got wasn’t enough or made things worse? 

I loved how Tomoyo tells Mariko in her own mind that it was never her fault and that it was the people in her life that projected their insecurities onto her. Tomoyo does wish that Mariko asked her to die alongside her. I can’t blame her for thinking that as there’s so much hyper-individualism ruining what it means to connect with someone in a meaningful way. Tomoyo and Mariko had a genuine friendship that was still maintained despite their evolving lives.

At the end of the story, Tomoyo opens up a final letter from Mariko mailed to her before she died and the contents of the letter are unknown to the reader. All we see is Tomoyo’s response, “Mm-hmm,” while she holds the letter to her face. It’s very open-ended, but I think that’s the point. Human beings are complicated creatures full of entanglements that make and/or break them. We all have kinds of feelings that can’t be easily labeled despite whatever perception is given of us. We’re all open-ended in our own ways. 

That’s why I wish more people “open up” and realize that suicide is a people problem. There’s people who say having suicidal thoughts is abnormal. Let me say this - if you are oppressed by all kinds of stressors and impacts that are usually caused by other people and no one truly cared about you, I think it’s normal to feel as if dying is your option. I sometimes feel that we have too many people well off compared to people who aren’t. Maybe that’s one reason why thoughts related to death are so taboo. 

I’ll reveal something that most people don’t know - I still think about death sometimes. I just don’t let it overwhelm me. Or maybe I realized that I’m sick of certain injustices in the world. Thinking about suicide was somewhat of a stance against that. It’s similar to what martyrs believe. However, I do feel that you need to focus on the light hidden in that darkness (sounds Kingdom Hearts-ish, but it’s also true) and make it so that living is a better option. It takes a people solution to find that. I found that I wasn’t alone in how I thought at times and it helped me a bunch to process what I was feeling.

There’s a wonderful line near the end of My Broken Mariko and it’s found on a beach sign. It said “Suicide isn’t a crime, but littering is.” I sometimes feel that suicide is still treated as a crime even by those who want to help. I think that’s why you hear questions like “Why did they do this? How could they?” Most police responses to people with mental illness do not end well. Sometimes, psychiatric help does more harm than good. I’ve had bad psychiatrist/therapist experiences that felt too “medical.” That’s why I want more community efforts emphasized to tackle suicide and not just only rely on the standard solutions.

This is what I think My Broken Mariko is calling for - a communal stand against the injustices that lead people to consider suicide as an option. And I’m glad someone like Waka Hirako feels the same way I do.

There’s a wonderful guide on Psyche, “How to talk to a suicidal friend” with resources and books. Also, please remember that it’s possible that you can’t save someone in the end even if you tried as best you could to help (like Tomoyo did for Mariko) and no one should ever shame you for that. Here’s a list of resources for suicide bereavement.

[macattackp]

Lies Chronically Ill/Injured People Tell Themselves:

1. I Am a Burden Who Only Takes From Others and Can Never Give Back

We all have things that we feel we SHOULD be able to provide. As a guy, it KILLS me that I can’t do things like shovel the driveway, help carry heavy items, or have a job that could make me a breadwinner for someone.

Don’t undersell what you do bring though! For one thing, chronically ill/injured people tend to be masters of empathy, not to mention we get pretty knowledgeable on the medical system. If you aren’t... don’t fret over it! If you can’t do something, then don’t! Focus on what you CAN do instead!

2. I Am Undeserving of Love Because Who Would Take on a Burden Like Me?

This one is another huge struggle for a lot of people. I know as a guy, I feel the added pressure of being worthless if I can’t provide financially for a girl. (No matter how progressive people may be, this progressiveness tends to vanish when their daughters’ well being are concerned), but I know just as many girls who say the same things.

“How can someone love me when I just am stuck in bed all day?” “Why would someone choose me if I could never have kids?” “Who would choose a spouse who may not be able to have sex?”

Look. I’ll be honest, I have no wise advice on this one as to find someone who is willing to support you on your struggles. Nor can I be dense and say “You’re just misreading people!” because let’s admit it... our lives are tough and there are many who would choose not to join us.... what I can say though... is I have had friends who had chronic illnesses. Some could never have sex. Some would require tons of medical expenses. Some were missing limbs or body parts. One was even pretty much guaranteed to die before she turned 30.... And they ended up getting married, and loved, and supported. I don’t know what the future holds for you, but I do know it IS possible! So don’t put yourself down or give up hope!

3. I Have to Work Harder to Keep Up With Everyone or Else I Will be a Failure!

This world has a main road, but that main road has a lot of cracks... and there are probably more people in this world who have fallen through the cracks, than walk on the main road. But we feel like everyone in this world is on the main road because once people fall through the cracks they tend to be overlooked even though there are so many of them.

It is not fair, nor is it doable to be expected to keep up with others when you are carrying a different burden. We have the Paralympics for a reason. Would you ask a man with one leg to race against the Olympic sprinters? Would you ask someone carrying a massive boulder to outrun someone without one?

And in all honesty, it is not always as cut and dry as “Accept you’ll get 4th or 5th place.” Our world tends to try to put us on rails. We make everything systematic and anything that doesn’t fit within our metrics is considered broken. We often judge people more by their process than their results! But the way laid out by others as the “Right way” isn’t always the only or even the best way! 

Learn how YOUR body works! I was a horrible student in school until I finally gave up relying on teachers and just studied the way I enjoyed it. I figured at that point “As long as I pass, what else matters.” but had the added surprise when I jumped from a 60′s-70′s student at best to my lowest grade being a 94! It doesn’t always work out this well, but your body is yours. No one else can tell you how it works. Learn from what people have done in the past but look for the way YOU work best! When you look back you realize, none of the biggest world changers really ever lived their lives by the book anyways!

4. I Have To Get Better So I Can Have a Life!

To an extent, this makes sense. Without energy, or finances, and with a schedule stuffed to the gills with doctors appointments meaning you can never go far from home... it is hard to feel like there is really much you can do... but... at the same time....

YOU ARE ALIVE NOW!

You may not have the finances to do what you want. You may not have the social life that you enjoy. You may not have an overabundance of time or energy... But you are alive RIGHT now! You are allowed to live!

Write that book you always wanted! Learn a new language! Cook yourself a big meal! You may tell yourself “BUT I HAVE SO MUCH OTHER STUFF I SHOULD BE FOCUSING ON INSTEAD!” 

Look! That stuff will be there whether you focus on it 24/7 or 12/5! Don’t let it get out of hand, but if you aren’t going to be able to solve it by worrying about it more then don’t! Spend your time doing things that will revitalize you, help you grow, and give you some interesting stories to tell once this is all over!

5. I Am Not Allowed to Be Happy or Have Fun Until I Am Better!

This one is a tough one as it ties into our impostor syndrome. That horrible feeling that we get every time we start to enjoy ourselves or smile in public of “Oh no! What if people assume I’ve been faking this whole time?!?!?!”

You are allowed to laugh. You are allowed to smile. You are allowed to have good things happen to you. Yeesh, there is no time in life that it is more important to have happy moments than through hardships!

Being happy or enjoying yourself from time to time through hardships isn’t a sign that your hardships were never that hard. It is a sign that you are fighting forward. That you aren’t letting this take over your life. And plus, as human beings we NEED hope and happiness... we die both mentally and physically without it

6. There is No Future After This

This is one that I personally struggle with... if we count the 6 years of trauma as a kid that originally gave me PTSD, and these last 7+ years of pushing as hard as I can only to fail harder and harder (including these last 2.5 years that have been giving me a whole new layer of trauma on top of my previous trauma) I’m reaching the point where more than half my life has been going through miserable, destructive times where I lose most things that matter to me and find myself alone at the start again in a dark place. It is hard... honestly... Anyone who follows my account and sees my tagless venting posts know that there are more than enough times I question why I even try anymore when I don’t even know what’s left of me...

But there was a movie I watched a while ago... another cheesy hallmark movie, but it was a good one as far as hallmark movies go. I remember they had this one line in it that really stuck with me.

“I’ve lost everything 3-4 times now! It’s the perfect place to start!”

Now I’m not as optimistic as that ambitious old man from the movie was... but I do know this.... You never know what life can hold. The same way you can lose everything that matters to you in a year, I’ve seen people gain more than they ever thought possible in a week. Not to say we are all about to win the lottery or by some miracle wake up completely healed of all afflictions... but I do believe that if it was possible to have things go this bad, it is also possible for things to go much better.

And let’s admit it. You might be thinking “Oh! But I’m not strong enough to make it happen!” and you’d be right... you aren’t. But honestly who is? We live in a world where tons of people succeed or fail... and very few I can say “earned it.”

Life IS unfair, but if it wasn’t, we’d all be dead! What we really get upset about is that it seems to be more unfair in some peoples’ favour than our own. But life is tough. The fact that any of us live is a miracle in itself. Don’t limit what the future holds for you based on what you feel you’re able to do. You aren’t a static person, and this world doesn’t rise or fall on your shoulders either! (even though it feels like that most mornings). Give it your best with what you’ve got every day, and realize even if each day feels like a year, this is still only a season of life. Personally I want to fight and survive long enough to see a day where this all seems like it was worth it!

7. I Will Never Be Self Sufficient!

The lie in this one isn’t that you will be self sufficient! The lie is that people assume ANYONE is self sufficient!

Look. Do you see people growing their own food? Even if they do, do they grow their own fertilizer? Even if they do, did they build their house from scratch, their car, their fridge, do all their electrical work, never once look up anything on the internet?!?!?! No!

We are NOT a self sufficient species. From the minute we are born we NEED people just to stay alive let alone to succeed! So you have to rely on people in a way you don’t see others needing to rely on people! Does an electrician complain that he needs to call someone to fix the backed up pipes when the plumber doesn’t??? No! That would be stupid! And to try and fix it on his own would be stupider! 

You are ALLOWED to rely on others. You are ALLOWED to ask for help. This doesn’t make you any less of a person! This makes you human!

8. I’m Not Worth It . . .

This is something I struggled with even before I realized just how much was stacked against me from the start... I remember one time, someone very precious to me sat down in front of me and for 15 minutes she said nothing else but “YOU ARE WORTHY!” She repeated it over and over again in different ways, not letting me talk and refusing to say anything else until I finally just accepted that I maybe was. Times change, and she may not be around to say that anymore, but those words still stick with me, and that moment still pops in my head every time I am feeling really down on myself like a planted warrior to fight against my internal self doubt...

There are many things in our lives that make us feel worthless.... “I messed up and hurt them.” “I have a lot of health concerns.” “I am not attractive.” “I have a perverted mind.” “I don’t fit with what society says I should be.” “My parents/people who I care about said I wasn’t good enough.” The list goes on... but YOU ARE WORTHY!

“But I don’t deserve to be happy!” YOU DO!

“But I don’t deserve anyone to put up with me.” YOU DO!

“But I don’t deserve a happy life” YOU DO!

“But I don’t deserve a second chance.” YOU DO!

Whatever you’re worried about

Whatever is bugging you

Whatever lies are bouncing around in your head right now saying you should just disappear and stop being a bother to others

YOU

ARE

WORTHY!

Don’t let anyone or anything tell you otherwise, LEAST of all yourself!

I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you’re going through. I don’t know what you’ve done or haven’t done.... but I can tell you this right now. You are a one of a kind beautiful life. You are allowed to exist in this world, you are allowed to flourish, you are allowed to enjoy your time with it and interact with others. What’s more, you aren’t just put up with, you are NEEDED! Because there is only one of you out there, and this world needs you. Treat yourself well, and let yourself know just how valuable you are. You are you, and that is beautiful!

[relapseblog]

Dear Father: A Letter I will Never be Able to Send...

I’m unsure how to begin this. I don’t know what words to use. I don’t think there is an adequate or befitting way to compose a thesis or introduction. However, I do have a vague notion of the thoughts I’d like to convey.

I am hurt. I’ve existed in a state of superposition for as long as I can remember; simultaneously occupying space in two separate but parallel realities. One is authentic, one that is insincere. Within the authentic reality I suffer perpetual agony. Within the insincere reality I function through enactment of a false display so skilled that I at times even fool myself, forgetting that my authentic reality is one typified by anguish. To a slightly lesser degree, this remains true today.

Since before I was even born the story of how I would come to exist in such a state was beginning to transpire. You abused my mother ever since the two of you first became associated until the day she took us and escaped from you. You once threw her onto a bed where my baby big brother lied, proceeding to wrap your hands around her throat asphyxiating her, whilst at the same time suffocating infant Trey under her body weight being forcefully pressed against him. You could’ve killed not only my mother, but your infant son as well. This is just one of many incidents of this kind that I’ve been told of. I am certain for each story of your iniquity I’ve been told there exists another three.

I don’t have detailed memories of the cruel torment you imposed on my mother. I have very few fractured memories of the vile things you said and did to her. what I do remember are the feelings of confusion, anger, helplessness, fear, and heartache. Feelings that I’ve carried with me my entire 25 years of life. Feelings so excruciating they placed me on a path of self-destruction where thrice I’ve attempted to kill myself, where I’ve wished for death innumerable times, where I’ve incalculably deliberated killing myself whilst writhing in tears and pain. Feelings that I wanted desperately to banish from my mind. At the tender age of 13 I became a heroin addict who would wish silently every time she stuck a needle in her veins that this would finally be the fatal shot she’d been waiting for. That this would finally be the shot that would end her lifelong torment she’d been subjected to.

It was also around this age I ceased believing in God. I did not believe that I would go to Heaven upon my death; I was not hoping to escape this world seeking refuge in a better place, I was hoping to be annihilated. To cease to exist. As though I’d never existed at all. I’d fantasize about my lifeless body going cold, then stiff, the bloating and changing colors, then beginning the process of decomposition until there would be no remaining trace of evidence that I was ever a living organism that existed on Earth. These thoughts strangely elicited a sense of comfort. But accompanying them were thoughts of how my mother and the rest of my family that loved me would feel. These thoughts were painful. Even more painful were the thoughts I’d have regarding you. I’d think to myself that if I were to die you would never even know, that if you did somehow find out you wouldn’t care because you don’t love me. The comforting images in my mind of my death did not stay comforting for very long before the accompanying thoughts made me feel worse than I previously had. Self-hatred ensued.

Before becoming a heroin addict often I’d dream of you at night. You’d come to where we lived in Iowa to visit me and Trey. Despite the fact she abhorred you and feared you my mother always graciously let you stay out your visit in our home so Trey and I could spend as much time with you as possible. You had missed us, you were happy to be with us, we were happy to be with you too. These dreams were extremely vivid. I would wake from my slumber, eagerly searching the house looking for you only to find that it was just a dream. This was very painful. I had variations of this dream at least twice weekly for four years. Eventually I stopped searching for you upon waking up, as I had accepted that it was merely a dream. Just as I had accepted that you didn’t give a fuck about me or Trey. I mean, you didn’t give a fuck about Aaron either; it was a bit narcissistic of me to believe that I was somehow any more important.

I’d always hated you for what you’d done to my mother; it’s unforgivable what you did to her, and she deserved none of the cruelty she suffered by your hands. For this, I have hated you all my life. I’ve also hated you because during my childhood in California and Illinois you never had a job, you never tried to help support our family, you were never a man. Rather you let my mother run the streets day and night committing illegal acts putting herself and our family in jeopardy because you were a lazy piece of shit. For these two things, I have always hated you. But it was during this time in my life, around age 13, that I started to hate you for what you did to me. Even thought I hated you for what you did to my mother and for what you did not do for our family I still loved and admired you. In my eyes you were strong, intelligent, wise. I loved you with the most unconditional love that anyone could ever have for another person. And you never came to see me. I just wanted to see you. To hug you. But you never came. I hate you so much for that. I loved you so much. No matter what you did wrong I always loved you. Despite my belief that you were evil I still loved you. But you didn’t love me. So, I buried it deep inside.

The first time I ever used heroin I felt brand new, reborn, like I had been recreated by this substance into someone I could never even have dreamed of being. I felt exalted. I felt warm. I felt happy. I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt serenity. Every ill thought and feeling instantly vanished. It felt as if I had been cleansed and anointed by the God I no longer believed in. There was no  more pain. I was unbound, infinite. As I continued to inject heroin into my veins day in and day out I found that I no longer had those painful dreams in which you loved me only to wake and be faced with the fact that you didn’t. For a while everything finally felt okay, better than okay. Exceedingly better than okay. Heroin comes to you as everything you could ever want to possess and own for yourself. But that’s the thing about heroin, you can’t own it, rather it owns you. I soon spiraled downward at an exponential rate and became slave to this cruel and beguiling master. i no longer had free will. My thoughts and actions were no longer mine. I now existed only to seek and use heroin. And I was still a child.

Injecting heroin every day, typically multiple times a day, continued until I was 19 years old. But I couldn’t live as a sober individual. I didn’t know how. Aside from the lifelong pain you inflicted upon me, now I had damaged my brain irreparably with heroin. Serotonin and dopamine were no longer being synthesized correctly in my brain, leaving me extremely depressed and angry all the time. I became violent like you. Moreover, the person I was at this point was someone I hated; someone I was ashamed of. I no longer recognized who I was. In my mind I was a filthy, immoral, lowlife scourge upon the Earth who had done nothing but degrade my own self and sadden, disappoint, and horrify my family to no end. I viewed myself as innately bad; I even went so far as to say to myself that I was evil. Because of the anger and rage I harbored I thought I was just like you. Which to me was the worst thing possible. I’d rather be like anyone, like anything, rather than be like you.

Even though I quit using heroin I continued to use methamphetamine and by the age of 23 I had relapsed on heroin too. Also at the age of 23 I got arrested for the first time. Then I was arrested again. And again. And again. The last time I was arrested I decided I needed to change. I was, and still currently am, in school studying criminal justice and psychology. Despite my deteriorated mental health, I always yearned to by successful. To graduate college, have a career, make my mother proud. I had spent half of my life putting her through a living Hell that I’ll never be able to comprehend. She has always felt that my addictions, my feelings of confusion, anger, helplessness, fear, and heartache, my wish for death, was all her fault. My wonderful mother whom I owe nothing less than everything believes that she has failed as a parent.I need to prove to her that she didn’t fail. If I succeed she will believe that she has succeeded. So, I quit using methamphetamine and I quit using heroin. My goal in life, my purpose for living, is to make her proud. To instate within her an overwhelming feeling of joy, success, and peace.

I have been clean and sober now for almost two year, though not without a couple of brief and minor lapses along the way, I am very proud of myself. I have not allowed these lapses to dishearten me or lead me to believe that the time I have managed to remain clean is null and void. I am affording myself grace. I am relearning how to live life. I have come to realize that I am not a bad, immoral, or evil person. I am simply a product of my upbringing which was less than favorable and of no fault of my own; though I also know that it is on me to become better, and that my past is not an excuse to continue to choose to be a bad person. I’ve come to realize that the circumstances of my birth and upbringing are not things that I can allow to define who I am and who I become. I’ve come to realize that my suffering is not in vain. I can help others who suffer as I have.

I am a heroin addict and a meth addict. This is something I must continue to manage and will continue to struggle with for the rest of my life. There is no cure for addiction. There is no cure for my bipolar disorder either. I am permanently afflicted, but I am not worthless, bad, immoral, or evil. I am a strong woman, but at the same time I am a very sad and broken little girl.

Last night (the other night at this point) I had that dream again for the first time in probably 12 years. I was little. Trey was little. Mother was gracious. You were with us. We were happy. I woke up wailing with tears streaming down my face as I placed my hands on top of my head and pulled my hair tight into my fists. All the painfully familiar confusion, anger, helplessness, fear, and heartache came flooding back. I wanted to run. I wanted to get high. I wanted to die. I wanted to disappear. I went to work that night at the emergency youth shelter here in Des Moines on overnight shift. All the boys on my unit were sound asleep throughout the entire night. I was alone in an eerily silent dimly lit room. I sat there a cried virtually all night because of you. Yet again, all the confusion, anger, helplessness, fear, and heartache resurfaced.

I don’t think these feelings, which are the product of being witness to the horrible things you did to my mother, will ever leave me. They are a permanent part of me. This is what you’ve given to me rather than love. Where your love was supposed to go, instead you have placed confusion, anger, helplessness, fear, and heartache. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with these things aside from using them to help others who feel similar things. But that still does not tell me what I am supposed to do with them when I dream of you, or when I am crying all alone for hours in pain because no matter how much I hate you I can’t unlove you. I wish I could. Living would be a lot easier if I could.

I used to view you as strong, intelligent, wise. I cannot say that this perspective has changed entirely. I will think that you are intelligent to a certain degree. My mother used to refer to you as a “smart dumb motherfucker.” To me this is an accurate statement. You’re intelligent, but mindless. I no longer view you as strong. You succumbed so easily to the vile and sordid influences of this world, being whisked away by them falsely thinking they somehow made you powerful. That they made people respect you. That they gave you control. Fact of the matter is that you were too weak to fight to retain your moral humanity, so you forfeited it. You had no power, respect, or control. You allowed the depravity of this world to control you thus becoming depraved yourself. Though I once thought you to be evil I never thought you to be ignorant to what a proper sense of morality was. I know you understand right from wrong, yet you could never summon the willpower to make the right decisions. Your trepidation of fear and lack of strength always prevailed.

In my eyes today you are a coward. You are a coward for your acts of violence and abuse toward my mother. You are a coward for being too ashamed to attempt to reconcile with the children you have forsaken. You are a coward for being too afraid to turn inward to fix whatever it is that’s inside of you that makes you so angry, calloused, and violent. To my dismay I am quite a bit like you. I’ve got your temper. I’ve got your rage. I had begun to become cold and calloused like you. I’ve got your propensity for violence. But the difference between me and you is this, I am no coward. I will admit that once I was afraid to turn inward and look at myself for who and what I was. I was afraid of what I would see. I was afraid of having to deal with the horrible things that I’ve done. I was afraid of having to relive moments from my past that I’d tried for so long to banish from my mind. Most of all, I was scared to think too critically about you. But none of this is true today. Unlike you, I am brave. Unlike you, I am strong enough to not allow this, at times, cruel world to corrupt me. Unlike you, I am not afraid of the pain associated with accountability and personal growth. I would much rather endure that pain than be forced to endure the pain of self-destruction. I would much rather endure that pain than become a monster who inflicts the pain I feel inside upon others.

I know that you were, and probably still are, in pain too. Hurt people hurt people. It isn’t an excuse for one’s shitty actions, it’s merely a fact. I no longer think that you are evil. At least not by some sort of malign nefarious nature. Any evil that exists within you is present not because you’re innately malevolent, rather it’s because you relinquished your control over the one and only thing you did have control over. Yourself. I can’t speculate much more than this about you. You’re a person shrouded in mystery and I think that I’ve finally accepted that I don’t have to fully comprehend the reasons for your actions and inactions.

I hate you. I love you. I hate myself for loving you, but I am learning to be gentle and kind with myself because regardless of anything you were my father. Regardless of how cruelly you treated my mother, regardless of your lack of ambition and failure to provide, and regardless of the fact that you abandoned me and Trey, for a short time when I was a small child you were an active and doting father to me. You made me feel like a beautiful and powerful princess in a world that does not readily subscribe beauty, power, nor prestige to black women and girls. You encouraged me in everything I did. You taught me many things that I carry with me to this day and will continue to carry with me for the rest of my life. This is the person I love unconditionally. The person that I’ve mourned the loss of for 16 long years who exists now only in my memory.

The person who victimized and tormented my mother for years without remorse as her two small children witness it crying a pleading that it stop, the person who failed to ever contribute to society and help provide for his children, the person who so easily cast his children aside, the person who seemed to delight in feeling evil. That person is not my father. That person is someone that I’ve had the grave misfortune of knowing. That person is someone that I’ve allowed to wreak havoc on my life for as long as I can remember. I don’t love that person. i abhor that person. That person is the exemplification of everything I never want to become. That person is who I fear every day that I will become because he is the reason for my anger, hostility, and predisposition for destruction and violence. That person is the cause of my greatest everlasting sorrow. That person is you.

For what you’ve done only God can forgive. If there is a God I pray that you find serenity and peace that you’ve never known on Earth. If God doesn’t exist and annihilation follows our death, then I hope that you somehow manage to make peace with yourself before death. I know pain, and it is not something anyone should have to carry with them to the grave. Not even you, Arcell.

[everlarkficexchange]

Unmasked ~ Six

Written by: ~ M ~

Prompt #88

Rating: E (Explicit) This fic will contain consensual sexual content; mild language; discussions of injuries, illness, and amputations in a historical setting; discussions of miscarriage; discussions of minor character suicide; references to non consensual sexual situations.

My thanks to the moderators of @everlarkficexchange for always running an entertaining event, and for playing along with a little fun and mystery. Please enjoy the sixth chapter of this adventure. Previous installments can be found here. Regards,

~ M ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~ Chapter 6 ~~

If I found some of the townhomes and wealthy mansions we have visited in the past month gaudy, the Capitol estate of the Duke and Duchess of Cashmere qualifies as obscene. Not even located in the city itself, it takes near an hour simply to reach it. When we do, I have to remind myself not to gawk.

The lane, lit with a long queue of torches, seems to extend past the horizon. They pass the carriage windows in streaks of orange and short bursts of heat before we reach the next. The wheels churn on the rocks and I contort myself to see the house without leaning out the window. It rises up into the evening sky, more palace than house, set against magnificent hues of pink, red, vibrant orange, purple, and deep blue.

“It’s beautiful,” Madge breathes, having leaned across my body to peer out the window as well.

“Of course it is. Cashmere would not settle for anything less than spectacular and the Good Lord Himself wouldn’t dare provide less than a spectacular sunset to grace her affairs,” Effie announces and Haymitch grunts from beneath his tipped forward hat. He hasn’t moved since we left, making me wonder if perhaps he were napping, but his response suggests that he is wide awake. Effie catches on to this and swats his arm with her fan. “Haymitch! It is a masquerade. Put on your mask!”

Madge leans back in her seat and smiles at me, adjusting her own mask, which is already perfect anyways. The carriage jostles slightly and the loud clacking of hooves followed by the bone jarring rattling alerts us that we have reached stone. The house embraces us, a giant U shaped around a cobblestone courtyard. Almost every window shines, ablaze. I cannot imagine the expense of candles to light this place.

We have time to wait, already a long queue of arriving carriages has formed. When it is our turn, a footman in dark blue livery opens the door, and bows low enough for us to see the purple bow tying back his long hair before assisting all of us from the carriage. Haymitch leads us up the stairs, Madge laces her arm with mine and we clasp hands. I can tell from the way she looks around as I am that even she has never seen such wealth.

I scramble with mental hierarchy to figure out where Lord Mellark, Marquis de Vale would be placed in wealth and privilege, somewhere between a duke and an earl, I believe. Such things were unimportant to my parents since we had so few out of the area visitors to Everdeen, let alone anyone with a title besides Madge’s family. Unlike most young girls my age, I did not have a ranking list of the peerage drilled into my brain. My parents never cared and therefore neither did I. Effie has given me at least half a dozen lectures on it, yet all I can now remember is a vague buzzing noise in my brain, like a persistent fly. Now it seems a disadvantage that I did not pay closer attention.

If I am right in my guess at rankings, that means Sir Robert is used to more wealth and fine things than Madge, although perhaps not this much. I hope not, at least. As we climb a grand set of stairs lined with more torches, it is yet one more reminder of all the things I do not know about Sir Robert or the sort of life I will lead as his wife. I formed plans for Everdeen and failed to consider that, if Sir Robert is expected to present himself and act as though he is first in line for the title, as his wife, I will be expected to act as a future Marchioness. I have no idea how to behave around such wealth and nobility.

Once, I overturned a  log deep in the woods, uncovering a writhing pile of worms. At the time, I had been happy to see them, signs of growth and the vitality of nature in the soil. Now I feel as though they have taken residence in my stomach and they are most unwanted.

What have I done? I’ve engaged myself to a stranger. I panicked when I agreed to his proposal, afraid that if I rejected him, another such proposal might never come my way. I do not have time to seek out another unless I decide to forsake Everdeen to the control of our steward, sever my thoughts and care from my home and her people. No, I cannot do that, not while my father still breathes and the responsibility for the land and people rests with my family. I must repair the damage done in my impulsive reaction and learn exactly who my betrothed is, ensure that I will not be expected to neglect Everdeen simply because I choose to paste the name Mellark over the one I was born with.

Now, I tell myself not to panic as Effie jabs her fan into my side, prompting me to stand straight as Haymitch hands over our invitation to a gentleman in a uniform that matches the footman’s only with more braiding on the jacket, and we are announced. Announced at a masquerade, how ridiculous. Tis no wonder everyone knows who everyone else is here.

We glide regally down another set of stairs into a wide, marble and gilded foyer. The ceiling soars up to a magnificent painted ceiling. We descend down to a cloud grey marble floor and are almost immediately swallowed into the crowd.

“Now girls,” Effie snares my hand and reminds us one more time. “If we are separated, you two stay together. We will meet here at the end of the evening.”

And then we are separated, the crowd deftly dividing us into pairs as I cling to Madge and we are swept along.

“Shall we find the food or Sir Robert first?” Madge asks.

“A drink!” I gasp as a hand caresses over my backside and I jump forward. I whirl around to yell at the man who accosted me only to find no one I can easily accuse. Whoever touched me has already disappeared into the crowd. So then that is what Madge meant about inhibitions being discarded or forgotten. “Something to drink.”

We search for the refreshments and finally find them, gulping down a clear, fizzy wine. We ogle the spread of treats to eat and decide on a few we will need to try later. There are so many beautiful gowns around us, and we spend some time admiring several. Whispers seem to follow us and I wonder at their cause until I ask and Madge pulls me towards the dancefloor as we hear the orchestra tuning their instruments.

“It’s your gown. They are all wondering who you are and talking about your gown, Katniss. No one will be able to forget you tonight.”

“We were announced.”

“No one paid attention to that,” she waves it off as insignificant.

I glance down at my gown, searching for a reason it might attract attention. Perhaps the tones of the dress are darker than the pale colours that seem to be the fashion. I am not the only one here dressed in dark shades; however, I am the only one wearing a single sleeve. The silver painted designs curling over my bare arm adds a touch of almost scandal. I’ve never had so much skin on display and suddenly feel quite out of sorts. Apparently I am doomed to continue making poor decisions this week. I take another drink of the wine and let the bubbles carry away some of my thoughts.

We stand on our toes as couples line up for the first dance, eyes scanning the crowds for a familiar profile or gleaming blonde curls.

“I do not see him,” Madge says, confusion in her voice.

“Nor I.” The worms have discovered a feast in my stomach as the music begins and with a few cheers, so does the dancing. The Duchess wisely chose to begin the evening with a lively tune and while it appears to be a great deal of fun, my promised partner is absent.

“He must be here somewhere,” Madge insists, with a squeeze of my hand. “We will wait near the floor and he will find us. That is why you sent him the note describing your mask and gown.”

Halfway through the first dance, we’re approached by a gentleman in a blue and silver mask, dark copper toned hair and sea green eyes. He asks for the next dance and I refuse, insisting that it is already spoken for. Another man asks Madge for a dance and she refuses as well.

“You should dance,” I tell her once we have reached the third with several more invitations to dance and still no sign of Sir Robert.

“I won’t leave you alone.”

When the first gentleman returns during the fourth dance to request Madge partner him for the next song, however, we have run out of excuses. “Surely you are not still going to claim you are spoken for? You have not moved a step!”

Madge accepts his invitation with a concerned glance back at me and I motion for her to go and to have fun. As soon as her attention is claimed by the dance, I allow my smile to vanish. I glance up towards the grand staircase and see several late guests wander in, although the servant who announced guests at the start appears to have ceased his duties.

That is it, I tell myself with a confident nod. Sir Robert is late, as usual, and I have missed his arrival or perhaps he has not yet arrived at all. I need only wait a few more songs.

After the fifth, the orchestra takes a short break. Madge returns and we test a few of the treats, although we do not linger for long. The crowd is near impossible to navigate and I am concerned that Sir Robert will not be able to find me at all.

Another set and I am tired of the whispers following me, of being asked to dance by several gentlemen but not the one I want. Madge is claimed for dance after dance, and I cannot seem to find my family. It is more humiliating than being stuck in the mud and needing Peeta’s assistance. I turn back to the tables of food for solace, then away when I see how crowded they’ve grown. Just as the orchestra begins the third set of dances, I spot him.

A head of blonde hair standing perfectly still in the sea of people moving around him. He calmly surveys the dancers, as though looking for someone. I do not know how he managed on such short notice, but his attire matches mine. Dressed in a dark grey coat and vest, ivory trousers, shirt and cravat. His mask, painted deep hues of red much like the ones adorning my mask, covers almost the entirety of the left side of his face, but only down to the cheekbone on the right. The asymmetry mimics my dress and I wonder if he somehow planned that. Did Effie or Cinna speak to him in advance? I shake my head, gather my ire and my skirts, and charge towards him. Effie insisted I bring the matching lace fan Cinna made for this gown and now I am happy to have it as I wield it as a weapon of irritation.

Thwack! Into his chest. His head snaps to look down at me. I do not even attempt to disguise my annoyance.

“You are horribly late.”

He releases a soft puff of laughter, his smile fleeting but warm. He then sobers, taking my hand holding the fan in his and bowing low over it, the motion slow and deliberate.

“A thousand apologies for keeping you waiting, Miss Everdeen. There was a bit more traffic than I expected to encounter.”

“Will you be late to your own wedding then? Your funeral?”

“Hopefully not the first, and could you fault me for the latter?”

I laugh a little at this. His dry tone is not one I am used to him using. I rather like it on him. Laughter makes forgiveness easier, but not assured.

“You owe me a dance, sir. Perhaps several for keeping me waiting so long.”

“Ah…the floor looks quite crowded. Perhaps later?” I ignore disappointment as he gestures back towards the food tables. “A refreshment instead? It is quite warm in here.”

He extends his arm and I take it, settling into a careful walk through the crowds. It takes some time, avoiding merry people and those who have already managed to imbibe a little too much. Sir Robert speaks not a word, not even when he steps back, fingers lightly grasping my elbow to maneuver through tight spots with me in the lead. His fingers swipe gently over my bare skin and then are gone, once more replaced with his arm, just in time to steady me as I have to halt abruptly for a passing lady too preoccupied with her dessert to notice us.

I catch Madge’s eyes then and her mouth rounds out for a second then turns to a smile as she spots my companion. She waves once, with excitement before the gentleman she is with steps between us and claims her attention again. She laughs at whatever he says, her cheeks pinkening. I am happy to see my friend enjoying herself and glance up at the man beside me, hopeful once more that the evening will be fruitful for me as well.

He secures two glasses for us and hands me one with another slight bow.

“I am glad you are here, if a trifle late,” I say, uncertain how to breach the silence.

“As am I.” He leans close then to whisper in my ear. “In truth I am surprised you bothered to wait. Half the gentlemen here are mesmerised by you and those who are not are clearly foxed.”

“And which half are you?” I ask, warmth blooming in my chest at the compliment.

“I’ve not had anything to drink yet,” he murmurs. My pulse flutters madly at his words and the heat of his breath on my ear. “I am thankful no one ran off with you before I could make it here.”

I have to shake my head to free my senses of the thrill, and hide my smile behind my wine. “Flattery will not save you from my annoyance. I still expect that dance.”

“Normally I would dance, except I become clumsy after the reel.”

“You’ve not even danced one, how could you become clumsy?”

“It is a rare talent and requires a great deal of practice.”

Once more, I find myself laughing. Relieved and wondering if perhaps I should talk him into wearing a mask and banishing his brother for the next few months if this open and witty man is who he truly is when unguarded. Peculiar that society’s masks hide more of our true selves than a physical mask.

I have so many questions, but before I can even ask one, his gaze is drawn away from me to a girl with lustrous red hair. She can be no more than sixteen, the same age as Prim, and hides on the fringes of the crowd. She holds her lips tight together and glances about the room. She produces a small mirror from the pockets of her gown and releases her lips. They are stained bright red and she gasps, tears trickle down her face from behind her mask. She grabs a glass of wine off the table near her and moves to drink, licking her lips. When she once more checks her face and nothing has changed, I understand her dilemma and move towards her.

Shielding her body from view of the crowds, I take the wine from her. “What happened, darling?”

“The punch! The red punch! My mother is going to be furious!” Panic makes her talkative as she spills half her life story. “She says my red hair is a mark against me. That only ladies of a certain nature have red hair or red lips. And now I’ve both! It is my first ball!”

“Hush. It will be alright. We shall find your mother and explain.”

“That won’t work!” She wails and it is then that I notice her teeth are stained as well. Sir Robert excuses himself. I send an annoyed glance his way before focusing on the torrent of words spilling from the poor girl’s mouth. She hardly takes a breath, leaving me no room to comfort her as she babbles on about all the ways she has already disappointed her dear mother. I have half a mind to find the woman and lecture her in the hall. “She told me not to drink the red punch. I might spill it and stain my dress and…and–”

“Here.” His hand brushes my arm and I glance down to see a glass of the red punch. My hands move to accept it of their own volition. When my eyes jump up to his face, he’s already drinking from his own glass.

“Sir! No!” The girl cries and he smacks his lips in satisfaction.

“That is quite delicious. Hm, and now we shall start a new trend.” He turns away from us and speaks to the closest passer by. “Good sir! You must try the red punch!”

He begins to tell everyone who will listen that they must try the punch, or that the wine appears to be running thin but there is still the excellent red punch, any number of extortions given with smiles and a joke or two, his mouth not yet stained enough to reveal the danger in drinking it to everyone he encourages.

The girl gasps as several people begin to brave the red punch. Glasses are fetched for ladies who await refreshment. Matrons hand them to their young charges.

“Miss Everdeen,” he lifts his glass to mine and a wide smile spreads across my face before I take a healthy swallow as he does the same. In an astonishingly short amount of time, half the guests have red stained mouths and our new friend has a dance partner with lips that now match hers and who pulls her towards the floor with a smile on her face.

We watch her for a moment and I feel an odd sort of pride as she says something that has her partner laughing before he twirls her. I glance up at the man beside me, astonished at his handling of the situation. It was not the behavior I would expect of the shallow fop concerned mainly with his dress, the latest gossip, or the status of his stables that I thought myself engaged to. It hints at someone with more substance, more care for the people he shares this world with, and even in our current silence, I feel more comfortable with him than ever before.

“May I ask you something?”

“Anything,” he says.

“I know so little about you.” His eyes meet mine and for one second, I am the one mesmerised. His eyes seem a deep blue in the shadows created by the mask. Dark and wonderful.

“We are wearing masks. You are not meant to know a thing about me.”

“I think I might like to change that. Do you know of a place in this monstrous palace where we might talk easier?”

He seems to hesitate then looks over the crowd for a moment. Setting both our glasses aside, he takes my hand in his and leads me through the crowd. Once again it is slow going. For one moment, I think he is perhaps leading me towards the gardens, a veritable den of wickedness and sin at these balls, if Aunt Effie is to be believed. He has misconstrued my intentions!

I begin to panic as I realise that yes, I had planned on kissing him tonight, but now that I am faced with the possibility, I am mortified. Or perhaps terrified. I do not know what I am thinking except that I wish to talk more and then decide if I even want to kiss him. That is the courtship I should have pursued, I realise now. Oh how my father would be disappointed in my headstrong, stubborn pursuit of matrimony first and trust later.

Sir Robert turns away from the doors leading out to the gardens and instead leads me through a tall arched doorway and into a long hall that seems to span an entire arm of the house. Tapers line the walls on both sides and windows framed in heavy drapes show the black night outside. A handful of guests wander up and down the checkered floor. Within a few steps, the noise from the ball lowers considerably. Only the sounds of shoes on marble and whispered conversations, a sprinkling of laughter float on the air.

“Oh,” I breathe in relief. This is perfect. It is quiet enough that we might converse, empty enough that we shan’t be overheard, but contains enough witnesses that a wise person would not try anything untoward. He slows his step and I notice that one foot seems to drag a little. “Did you injure yourself?”

“Nothing serious,” he explains and then releases my hand, setting me free to walk.

“But perhaps aggravated by dancing. You could have simply said that instead of making excuses,” I say with a smile and he seems to be examining me. “I was beginning to think you did not want to dance with me at all.”

“I would dance a hundred dances with a broken leg were that the only way to make you happy.” I laugh nervously at his flattery, although this is closer to the Robert I am familiar with. How horrid. To have a husband who flatters and compliments at every turn. But will he flatter and flirt with every other lovely lady of his acquaintance? Or me and me alone?

The question disturbs me as his blue eyes follow me down the hall, his footsteps slow and steady behind me. Deliberate and methodical.

“What is this room, then?”

“Portrait gallery,” he explains as we reach the first painting and I make a noise of understanding. “I believe the last time I was forced to sit in conversation with the Duke, he explained that these span… thirteen generations?”

“Thirteen?” I ask, glancing back at him with a quirk of my lips.

“I am guessing. I honestly don’t remember what he said.” Another laugh rises in my chest and bursts free. He gifts me with a sweet smile.

“Perhaps we should try to count then.” I turn back to the portrait and he stands next to me. Shoulder to shoulder as we examine the face of a long dead ancestor. At least, I am guessing he is dead, based on the ruffled collar he wears.

“Do you think anyone choked wearing those?” The laugh that rings down the gallery is his this time. On an impulse, I grasp his hand and drag him to the next. This one is of a couple and I find myself mimicking her pose.

“I think you have all the makings of a duchess,” he says. “Or perhaps not. There is too much laughter in your eyes.” I glance at the serious woman in the portrait and then back at him, his quirked smile. I attempt to keep my entire face somber and only earn a slowly widening, red stained smile until he laughs, shaking his head and unable to believe my act as I too laugh. Odd that I have never noticed his smile as being lopsided. I am learning all sorts of new things about my fiancé tonight.

We wander the gallery, commenting on the stern faces depicted in each portrait. He turns it into a game of sorts, concocting stories about the inhabitants of canvas, forever frozen. Most of them are silly and ridiculous and have me laughing until I can hardly breathe. Then we reach a set that dampens the mood and yet reveals so much.

“This poor lady was told to appear more cheerful and cannot.”

“Why not?”

“Her husband brought home another hunting trophy to clutter up her drawing room.” He points to the portrait immediately to the right, a stern looking man standing triumphant over a dead tiger.

“The poor creature. Why would you kill such a magnificent animal?”

“I was led to believe that you hunt,” he says and I lift one shoulder to convey a sort of indifference.

“If there is a use for the animal. A stag provides a bounty of meat, skin to be turned into leather for shoes or tack, antlers carved into tools such as needles and more. But this…have you ever eaten a tiger steak?”

“I cannot say that I have.”

“Perhaps if one were desperate or close to starving, but this man is garbed in gold buckles on his shoes and the finest velvet coat. It is needless and cruel to kill such a creature simply as a trophy. All that accomplishes is to satisfy your vanity.”

The look he gives me stirs something deep within. I feel as though we have somehow charged the air with our conversation and if one of us so much as speaks, the entire place with erupt. He leans towards me for a moment and then steps abruptly towards the next portrait and I wonder if he was about to kiss me in the middle of the portrait gallery. But why? And then… Why didn’t he?

After that, we continue our game with a touch less levity, although in between portraits we answer superficial questions.

“What is your favourite colour?”

“I am appalled by your question and shall fetch my Uncle at once to defend my honour,” I protest lifting my nose and turning from him with a smile still on my lips, earning a warm chuckle from him.

“I doubt that you need his help. Perhaps if I tell you mine?”

“Green,” I say, not really wanting to put up too much of a fight and flattered by his comment on my independence.

“Green?”

“Yes.”

“I imagine for your countryside that you love so much.”

“And my forests. I need trees as much as I need air to breathe.”

“Which explains why you are so fond of riding in the park, the only real source of abundant trees in the city. There are trees in the gardens here, I believe,” he suggests and I pause. He seems to realise my hesitation and alters course. “Orange. My favourite colour is orange.”

“The fruit?”

“No, not quite that bright. A shade of orange that you might find in a sunset.”

“Similar to tonight’s,” I whisper, seeing that beautiful panorama from tonight again and feeling my heart speed at the sudden idea of pausing in evenings to watch the sunset over green hills with him.

“Exactly like tonight’s.”

“Unorthodox, but I like it. We have this wildflower at Everdeen that blooms in the spring. I missed it this year, with our haste to reach the city and… anyways I think you might favour the shade.”

“Might I?” his fingers brush mine and I shiver, disappointed when he withdraws his touch. “Tell me more about your home?”

I lose myself telling him all about the hills and the forests, my time as a girl, my father, Primrose and mother with their healing hands and welcoming hearts. The families who rely on us, the faded golden and green and purple hues of the harvest. I am astonished at how he listens, asking all manner of questions at exactly the right time. I talk and talk until I am sure that he must be bored with me and then realise that we have traversed the entire length of the gallery back again, to the doorway where we began.

“It sounds lovely. I hope for the chance to see it one day.”

“You shall,” I promise with a smile and he seems to fidget nervously for a moment.

“Miss Everdeen,” he begins and then stalls for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts before he continues. “There is something I should confess to you.”

A strong breeze curls in through the doors to the gardens, setting the thin gauzy curtains to dance. It distracts me and I catch the scent of the flora, the cool night air. The music beckons, and yet as much as I want to dance with him, the pull of the gardens is stronger.

“Not in here,” I insist and take his hand, leading him outside and into the night.

His steps falter and I hasten, hoping that we will not be seen and that I will not regret this decision. I have spent unending hours with him for the past week, always with someone else present, and now that I have him to myself, I am discovering that he is an excellent listener, kind and thoughtful. He possesses a wicked sense of humor, steady and calm but with an unexpected heat in his blue eyes. I am curious to see that heat unleashed, yes, but beyond that, tonight is the first I have felt that perhaps I could build a life with this man. Only a few questions remain. Can he reveal himself to me as I have to him? Will he be repulsed by the last remaining secrets I hold? And if he kisses me, will I feel nothing at all or will I find the rapture Madge spoke of?

As we reach an orchard, the boughs of the trees hide us from the night and I inhale a deep breath, releasing it in a content sigh. “Now it is your turn. Tell me of your home.”

“Ah, that may prove difficult.”

“Because there are so many?” I tease and he shakes his head.

“Not quite.”

“Then tell me of your family. Start with your brothers. You once said there were several of you and yet I only know of the one.”

“Alright. Simple enough. There is Ethan, the heir, oldest and most responsible, obviously in line for the title.”

“Obviously,” I tease and he smiles.

“He is married to a lovely lady of irreproachable breeding and education named Sara. Sara prefers eating between meals and sneaks treats of all kinds to everyone she cares about whenever she is eating out of the routine and yet, she has never once been caught doing so. None of us wish to see her in trouble nor the end of the treats. She is also an excellent card player. Never wager against her, always partner with her.”

I laugh at this image of a doting woman handing out sweets and fleecing her family and acquaintances of their funds with an angelic smile, married to a stiff man of impeccable manners.

“They have five children, one son and four daughters, and the rest of us are constantly reminded how far behind we are.”

I blush at this, thinking in that moment of him playing on the floor with a small gathering of children, dark and light hair mixed together and laughter on the air.

“Then there is Henry, the spare, and also a scholar. He prefers the company of books to people. You will be lucky to get more than five words out of him unless it is to discuss the latest treatise on the ancient philosophers or the newest development in astronomy. His wife is named Angelica and she is…well the Marquis prefers to pretend she does not even exist.”

“Why not?” I ask, oddly defensive on this Angelica’s behalf.

“Because she is a professor of science, although no one beyond our family knows it is her. She conducts her classes via correspondence and a series of guest lecturers. In truth her real work is in the laboratory and in writing about her discoveries. You cannot tell anyone of this, Miss Everdeen.”

“Because it would ruin your family’s reputation to have a woman professor of science?”

“No,” he says and stops walking. “That is why the Marquis would wish for your silence, but not I. I ask for it because were she to be found out, she would no longer be allowed to continue her work.”

“You trust me with this?” I ask and he nods.

“Somehow I cannot see you doing anything that might jeopardize a woman moving through a man’s world.”

“You have figured me out,” I say and continue walking to avoid the odd tears gathering in my eyes. That he would trust me with such a secret, almost as though he already sees me as part of the family.

“Not yet, but I do feel as though we have made some progress tonight.”

“So then do Henry and Angelica have any children?” I ask, ignoring the happy flutter his words cause, knowing that we both entered this evening with similar goals.

“They adopted one child, a girl named Emma who had been abandoned near the Marquis’ estates.”

“And your father does not approve.”

“Hardly. But he approves of very little.”

“Would he approve of me?” I ask and hold my breath.

“Likely not,” he whispers. I shiver in delight as one finger traces the designs up my arm, starting from my wrist. He stops at the elbow and withdraws his touch. “I apologize, Miss Everdeen. I should not be so bold.”

Again I feel a pull towards him, like in the portrait gallery. His father would not approve and yet he does not care. An urge to move closer nearly overpowers me and I divert once more. There is more I wish to know before I lose all sense and kiss him.

“So then after Henry is you.”

“Yes,” he still whispers. “If a second son is a spare, you can imagine how superfluous a third or fourth son are.”

“And what profession would you choose to make your way in the world? Your twin, as you call him, has already covered the military.”

This seems to surprise him and he moves away from me, coughs slightly to clear his throat. “Yes, Peeta does have that one covered. Perhaps the church.”

“Somehow I cannot see that,” I say and he laughs. “Your father then has steep expectations of all of you.”

“One could say that. He is not…not a warm or affectionate man. He is kinder to his children than most other people in the world, at least.”

“And what of your mother?”

“That is…let us not delve into that tonight.”

“Very well,” I concede, curious but not willing to push too far. “There is yet one brother we have not covered.”

“You really wish to know?” he asks with a strange bite in his tone, almost defensive and stronger than it was when he spoke of his sister, Angelica.

“You seem close to each other. I wish to know of the important people in your life, even if he was born on the wrong side of the blanket.” Even from behind the mask, I can see his eyes darken and narrow.

“The simple version of it is that he came to live with us when he was eleven. Before that, there were no real connections with him.” This surprises me and I know it shows on my face. “We were born on the same day, two years apart, Peeta is technically the older, although most people refer to him as the fourth son, the same man fathered us, and the Marchioness despises Peeta’s presence in the world and in her house. The only reason she tolerates him at all is because it is rather impossible to deny the blood connection given the physical similarities and because her husband ordered her to do so. Anything else, Miss Everdeen?”

“I do not mean to offend,” I gasp out, uncertain how this changed so quickly. I have never seen Sir Robert angry or indignant about anything. He seems to float through life for the most part, and for one moment, I think that now I truly see the brotherly similarities, right before he seems to wilt and shakes his head.

“No, it is I who should apologize. You are asking out of a desire to know more of the family, not to malign, are you not?”

“I am.” I swallow and think of what Madge said, about how Peeta protects Robert the way that I protect Prim. This new information, this detail about Peeta being older than Robert sheds new light on their relationship. I can envision a young Peeta being ushered into a school room and ordered to conform to the expectations of the son of a marquis, being held responsible for his younger and more privileged but also more gregarious younger brother. Sir Robert perhaps providing levity and fun while Peeta provided the steady seriousness required of them. I can picture him providing a solid buffer between Sir Robert and trouble, protecting him and plucking him from sticky situations. Protecting him from fortune hunting ladies who might take advantage and break his heart.

The image causes unwanted sensations and a phantom touch that graces my legs along with a deep whisper in my ear and I turn away for a moment to regain my bearings.

“Miss Everdeen?”

“I should apologize as well. He is your brother. And if your relationship with him is anything like mine is with my sister…then you would do anything to protect him, and he you.”

“I would,” he says, and it sounds so much like a vow that I smile. We understand each other then. And now we arrive at the real test.

“Then I have one more thing to confess to you and then I expect that dance.” He moves to stand behind me, keeping enough space that we do not touch, yet close enough that I can feel the atoms of the air moving between us, around us. I feel the space as a tangible thing and close my eyes as I speak. I whisper to keep the air around us from igniting.

“I am…marked, sir.”

“Marked? How so?”

“By fire. I was…very young. Fifteen. My sister had a cat that was meant to stay in the barn and catch mice. He was an excellent mouser. We dubbed him the defendender of the lambs and pigs.”

He laughs at this and I feel my heart lightening a little. Enough to tell him the rest.

“She turned him into her pet and would bring him inside in secret, whenever it stormed. When my parents were gone for several weeks, we stayed with our neighbors. Their daughter is still my closest friend and we would often pretend we were sisters ourselves.” I swallow and his fingers find mine, tracing between them then up over the back of my hand, the touch so intimate and comforting. With his touch, I find the courage to continue. “My sister smuggled the cat to the manor with her. While we were there, my friend…her father had recently suffered a severe reverse in his fortunes. He told no one and sealed a marriage contract for my friend to a complete stranger.” I pause to breathe and cannot seem to continue.

“The Countess?”

“Madge, yes,” I say and feel his head bend towards mine. The delicate touch of his forehead to my crown and the whisper of breath over my scalp.

“He…he took his own life and Madge was devastated. She vanished somewhere into the estate and no one could find her. I knew where she was hiding yet told no one, thinking she needed some time to herself to grieve. My sister thought differently and sought her out. That evening, a fire started. No one quite knows how, although Lady Undersee was quite ill before her husband died. She often complained of headaches and Madge always preferred spending time at our home. We were…not required to be quiet at Everdeen. Lord Undersee’s death seemed to break his wife and she secluded herself. Many suspect her mind simply gave up that night and…”

“And the fire grew out of control before anyone knew what had happened?”

I nod and his hold on my hand tightens, draws me in closer as he turns me to face him. I stare at his chest as I continue. “I made it outside, as did the servants. But my sister and Madge. They were still inside. So I went in after them. I found Madge first, since I knew where to find her. She told me that Prim had wandered off, chasing the cat who had been terrified by the flames. We searched for Prim but, a beam fell, separating me from Madge. I told her to make her way outside, eventually found my sister and the cursed cat. I broke a window to escape and the air… it fed the flames. My dressing gown caught without me knowing. We made it out, all of us, barely and…” I cannot finish and blink to keep my tears in my eyes. A mask will not afford me privacy from tears. A gentle touch slides beneath my chin and lifts my head. I dare not look at him, afraid of what I shall see in his eyes.

“You saved your sister, and your friend.”

“And was left marked. Disfigured. The doctors remarked how it was a blessing that the flames never touched my face and yet… My parents chose not to set me loose on society and instead kept me in the country, fearing that the world would turn away from me in disgust if they learned of my scars. Worst of all, my friend lost both her parents that week. Had we not needed to find my sister and that daft cat, perhaps we could have saved Madge’s mother instead.”

“Perhaps. But I doubt that, if what you say about her grief is true. What you did was incredibly brave and selfless, regardless of who you saved and who you could not save.”

“Incredibly stupid,” I contradict and finally look up at him to find a deep blue well of sadness staring down at me. He shakes his head slightly.

“The two are so often intertwined it is impossible to tell them apart. You risked your life for another and should not feel shame at the marks left on your body. It is nothing more than flesh. What is in your heart is far more important.”

That same organ speeds up at his words as his gaze shifts to my shoulder, the one covered in fabric. He tilts his head and smiles softly.

“This shoulder. The scars are on this shoulder, are they not? That is the reason for your unique gown design.”

“Yes,” I whisper as he releases my chin to trace the edge of the fabric. Heat burns through me to such a degree that I fear more scarring and yet do not want to turn back. He has revealed so much of his true nature from behind the safety of the mask tonight. It only seems fair I show him mine.

“May I?” he whispers and I nod once. He will see them eventually, after all. What difference does it make if it is tonight or our wedding night? There is a small part of me that braces for his disgust, despite his gentle words.

Slowly, he peels back the fabric, revealing my damaged skin. I shiver and take deep breaths that turn to soft gasps as his lips touch me. Soft. Warm. Gentle, and dare I say it? Loving. Sensations radiate through me, and my knees quake. He kisses over my scars, then back up to my neck. “I should stop.”

“No, please,” I gasp and let go his hand to grab hold of his sleeves. The world pitches and tilts as he kisses beneath my ear and groans.

“Katniss.”

I smile and shudder beneath his kisses. It is the first time he has spoken my name and I sound beautiful and cherished on his tongue. I can easily imagine a lifetime of hearing my name whispered thus in the night. He knows me now and it thrills me beyond measure as his hand slides up my bodice to cradle my face and his kisses trail over my jaw in a slow burn towards my lips, even as his other hand soothes the memory of burns and pain in gentle strokes over ravaged skin.

“I wish you had never had to feel such agony. Never been called upon to be so brave so young.”

I tilt my head as though on instinct, heart pounding as his clean scent fills my head and the warmth of his lips tempts me deeper into this tryst. And I need to know. I wish that I could do it. Wed and bed with no feeling. Keep my marriage to business and contracts. Practical and cold, but I cannot. I need to know there will be some comfort, some connection at least if not love. His hand squeezes my shoulder and his lips swerve over my cheek, back towards my ear where he almost nibbles, taunting me.

“Never allow anyone to lead you to believe that you…” his kisses return towards my mouth just to the corner as I pant and cling to him, wishing for something I cannot name, afraid of wanting it so deeply. “…are anything less than exquisite.”

He breathes the words between my parted lips and still does not kiss them. I smile and shake my head, his hold on me gentle enough to allow the motion with ease.

“Such pretty words, but do you mean them?”

“Their beauty lies in their truth.”

It takes great effort to open my eyes and look into his. I can only stand it for a second before I pitch upwards and kiss him on his red stained lips. For one second he turns rigid as a statue, his grip on my shoulder tight and almost painful now. What did he expect with all the words and touches we have already shared tonight? I thought he wanted this as well and retreat, immediately humiliated and shamed. Perhaps it was a terrible kiss. It is my first, after all. Perhaps like riding a horse, kissing is a skill that takes practice. Or perhaps he truly is scandalised by my boldness. Tears prick at me but his hold is iron and I cannot escape, though I admit my attempts are feeble.

“Forgive me,” he moans and then his hand slides into my hair, his arm wraps around me and his lips join with mine again, crushing my small sound of surprise between us. His lips caress over mine and the sound melts into a soft moan that echoes down to my toes. My arms wrap around his neck, my body pressed to his, seeking more of whatever this delicious feeling coursing through me is.

So then this is what they whisper about behind laundry tubs and changing screens. Silken whispers of desire and passion and fire. Kisses that brand and claim and leave you wanting for more. He is everything in this moment. Everything that I want and need and crave. Bodily temptation and sustenance for my starving soul. Rapture. I feel my spine arch, molding my body to his. His lips on mine, gently demanding an answer.

Yes! I want to scream. Yes! a thousand times over to the thundering of my heart in my breast.

Something wet traces my lips and I shiver in delight, hands grasping bunches of fabric when he lifts his head to whisper to me.

“Open your mouth. Please, my pearl, open your mouth and let me taste you.” My lips part on a deep breath, a little stunned at the tendril of desperation in his tone and the salacious suggestion. His thumb traces my lower lip, tugging it down for a second. “Exquisite.”

And then I’ve no room for thinking. His lips drink every breath or word I might exhale. His tongue learns the shape of my lips. He swallows my stunned desperate gasp and then his tongue is in my mouth, hot and giving and greedy all at once. Taking and demanding but somehow bestowing far more than he takes. My body sags against him, relieved and overwhelmed, made boneless at the feel of him exploring and tasting, at the invitation I feel in his kisses to reciprocate.

Let me taste you, he had said. I slide my hands into his hair and boldly swipe my tongue past his into his mouth. He grunts and then retreats, drawing me in deeper. Inviting me to take control. My head spins and I accept the invitation. Kissing him as deeply as he kissed me. His hot exhales burn from his nose over my cheeks and then…

He steps back, hands gripping my shoulders and holding me away from him. His breaths heavy in the fragrant night.

“No. We cannot.”

“Why not?” I ask, voice trembling as cracks open across my heart. Tonight, for the first time, I have felt close to and possibly as though I could love the man I am meant to marry. More so than any moment before this, and yet he wants to withdraw. “We are to be married soon, Robert, remember? Or did you not mean your proposal this morning? We will spend the rest of our lives together. Why is it wrong for me to wonder about this? To seek an answer?”

“What?” He shakes his head and releases me, stepping back out of my grasp, towards the shadows. Silence stretches between us as I watch his shoulders sag, as though defeated. “It is not wrong. Your curiosity and need for an answer is not wrong.” His voice trembles in a way I cannot identify. “Did you find your answer?”

“Yes. Did you?” I ask, reaching for my dress to pull the sleeve back in place. He reaches for me and then seems to think better of it, pulling his hand back as though burned.

“I did,” he says, although his voice cracks. He sounds miserable. “Katniss, please forgive me.”

That is the second time he has beseeched me thus. Before I can tell him that I do not understand why I need forgive him, he steps towards me and touching me with only his lips, kisses me one more time. Brief. Passionate. Desperate. And then over.

“Exquisite. The man who marries you is the most fortunate bastard in the world,” he whispers. “Never let him forget that.”

Then he disappears, leaving me burning and reeling and somehow giddy. One crazed laugh escapes my lips and I cover my mouth to contain it. To hold in the heat of his kisses for just a moment longer. I take another moment to secure my cowl, to set my dress and mask to rights, and then I march back into the mansion with a spring in my step. I catch one flash of blonde curls shimmering in the candle light as he departs the ball, bowing to the Duchess and saying something that makes her smile and laugh before he disappears into the night.

I hope that he will dream of me tonight and then scold myself for such fanciful thoughts. Ours is still a marriage of convenience. And yet, our time together, his kisses tonight suggest possibilities. Hope lifts me high into dreams of a future. Could I be so fortunate as to have stumbled my way into a love match?

I am still pondering it when I collapse in the carriage after the ball, keeping my face as stoic as possible while Effie prattles on with the gossip. Haymitch grunts at intervals, pretending to listen. Madge examines me from across the carriage and it takes all my efforts to not blush or burst into a fit of giggles under her examination, especially when I see that all three of my family members in the carriage wear red stains on their lips. I hold it together until we are changed for bed and the maids have left us alone. Then I cannot and when Madge arches one eyebrow at me, I collapse into bed and squeal into my pillow.

“Now you really have to explain yourself,” she says. I feel the weight of her joining me on the mattress and turn my head to smile, uncaring how ridiculous I look.

“He kissed me.”

“And?” she prompts when I say no more. A sigh escapes me unbidden and Madge smiles. “That good?”

“It was…exquisite,” I tell her and she shoves me.

“You little minx! Tell me more than that.” We talk late into the night, into the early morning hours as I share my secrets with her. She takes my hand in hers as we yawn and drift closer to sleep as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. “I am happy for you, Katniss. I wish you happiness and love together. Truly this venture turned out much better than I expected when we left Everdeen.”

“It truly has,” I say and squirm deeper into the covers for warmth. What will it be like to sleep beside my husband? I shall find out soon, although perhaps not soon enough. I think of the announcement no doubt waiting to be printed in the papers and of Father back home.

The thought dampens my good mood. I need to return. While I’ve been drinking punch, laughing over portraits, and kissing a man, my father suffers and my mother languishes. Such liberties I allowed him tonight! Here in my bed, shame overwhelms the joy I felt in his arms. I was not aware that one could kiss by caressing tongues until this evening and it seems such a brazen thing for me to have allowed him on our first kiss. Guilt follows, rising up inside me, swirling together with an unpleasant mixture of feelings in my breast. I have been selfish and now that I have accomplished what I set out to do, I must focus on my duties.

Perhaps Robert will agree to a hasty wedding and damn the gossips, or perhaps I should leave the wedding planning in Effie’s hands while I return home and see to some business as well as my family. Surely a long engagement cannot hurt.

I slip into slumber, resolved to speak to him about it tomorrow.

To be continued…

[lovemesomesurveys]

How are you today? I’ve been up for a couple hours, but my mom brought me food and coffee so that was a good start ha. Now I’m doing this and watching the Halloween episode of Lizzie McGuire lol. What is your favorite medication that you take, and why? I only take my prescription pain med. What is your favorite vitamin, and why? Uh, I don’t have a favorite vitamin.  What color hair did your first crush have? I’m pretty sure he had brown hair.  List 5 people you know who have never been mean to you. My parents, brother, my aunt, and my doggo. I mean, I bicker with my parents and brother sometimes and my brother used to do little brother things and annoy me when he was little, but I don’t consider those things to be mean.

Do you have regrets? I have a lot. :/ What is it that you want to do with your one wild and precious life? I just want to be in a better place health wise, mentally and physically. I want to get my shit together and figure out what to do with my life, make something of myself.  Are you living in a dream or a nightmare? Feels like a nightmare stuck on a loop.  Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? My family always has been very supportive and encouraging.  What’s something that most people don’t know about you? Hmm... What’s one common assumption about you that isn’t true? That I’m “strong” and “brave.” Have you ever had a diabolical rumor spread about you? No. Do you love your enemies? I don’t have any enemies.  Do you care about your enemies? ^^^ How often do you make your bed? It’s always made because I sit on top of the comforter and just use a throw blanket.   What is your favorite color pen to write with? Black. Have you ever drawn on yourself with a Sharpie? No. What is your favorite arts and crafts show? I don’t watch any. Would you rather do a craft project or a science experiment? Craft project. Do you get bullied a lot? No. The only person that is mean to me is me. What is your favorite thing about yourself? My sense of humor. Which of your physical attributes do you love the most? My hair when it looks nice. Definitely not now... What are your favorite baby names? I don’t plan on having kids, so I haven’t given that much thought.  Have you ever made a dreamcatcher? Yeah, when I was a kid.  What was the last thing you spray-painted? It was for a school project in middle school. We had to make something with paper mache and I spray painted it. I forget what I was making, though. I think it was something for science.  Do you paint rocks and hide them in your town? I don’t, but that is a big thing in my town. I’ve found a few.  Do you find Scripture encouraging? I do. Who was the last person who was rude to you? *shrug* What color is the trash can in your room? White. Do you say garbage, trash, rubbish, or something else? Garbage or trash. Who did you inherit your smile from? I think it looks like my dad’s.  Do you have any cousins who look like you? We have some similarities, but we don’t look exactly alike. Which Bratz doll was your favorite? I don’t think I had a favorite one in particular. Which Barbie doll was your favorite? All of them. I was obsessed with Barbies. Which American Girl doll was your favorite? I didn’t get into those. Do you collect anything? If so, what? Giraffe stuffed animals and keychains. Do you decorate Mason jars? I only did that once for a wedding gift. Have you ever missed a doctor’s appointment? Yeah, I’ve had to reschedule sometimes. When you have as many doctor appointments as I have/had it’s bound to happen now and then. Which department store do you shop at the most? Walmart. What’s the best thing that’s happened to you so far today? My mom brought me coffee and breakfast. What’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you? That’s hard. Is there a guy/girl you wish you hadn’t let slip away? Yes. Do you miss a friend who betrayed you? Yes. What color band and stone does your class ring have? It has my birthstone, actually. What would be some horrible names for a basketball team? I don’t know. What is the best way to curl your hair? I never could curl my hair very well, it never came out right. Do you curl or straighten your hair more? I used to straighten my hair often. I don’t do either one anymore. Do you have any haters who are jealous of you? Ha, no. What’s one thing you are bad at drawing? I suck at drawing in general. Can you see a lot of trees from your window? I see 2. Can you see the mountains from where you live? No. What was the name of the first dorm you lived in? I never lived in a dorm. What was the name of your first Resident Director at college? Did you ever play pranks on April Fool’s Day? Yeah when I was a kid I did the silly ones like give someone gum that turned their mouth black. Have you ever played a prank and later regretted it? I wasn’t a big prankster. Have you ever made a prank call? Okay well I did do that sometimes in middle school with my friends.  What does your favorite pair of leggings look like? I have a ton of leggings, most of which are just black or gray. I do also have a few pairs of Adidas leggings in different colors and a few Christmas ones. What is your favorite Lisa Frank character? I don’t think I had a particular favorite, I just liked it as a whole. Does chronic illness keep you from doing the things you want to do? Yes. Do you believe in the power of prayer? I do. Are there any good churches in your town? Yes.  Which instrument would you play if you could learn to play one? I wish I had the motivation to start up piano again. Do you ever look at rocks and want to draw them because they’re so pretty? No. I kinda want to paint on one, but I suck. Do you part your hair on the left side, right side, or in the middle? To the right. Do you have bangs? Side swept. Although, they’re so long now they don’t look like it. Do you think you look good with bangs? I feel like I have a big forehead, so bangs were great for that. Do you own any succulents? No. Have you ever owned a succulent? No. Do you have a library card? No. Do you frequent the local library? Nope. I did as a kid, though. What color is your bedroom door? Tan. What made you smile today? My mom bringing me coffee and breakfast. What are some names you like that start with the first letter of your name? Scarlett. 

[wrenchyyyy]

Leaving

It’s time

It’s time for me to move on.  My depression has grown to be a bit stronger than expected...I feel like this site is dying and since i have no one to talk to this is the perfect place to go.  I will not be going back to tumblr .  Maybe ill check in a year on this post to see my progress but I doubt it.  Twitter and snapchat.  I’ll stay on those.   Social Media is toxic.

Anyway yes I have been depressed for the last 2-3 years and honestly I don’t think anyone but John, Ade, and Irene know.  It sucks because i will never kill myself but I honestly don’t want to live anymore.  I just feel like I have no purpose and that’s bad to say.  I know.

My depression is just something that just won’t go away.  It definitely got worse in like 2016-2017.  I saw somewhere this quote and it stuck with me for a long long long time.  

“You will always remember the people that were there for you during the lowest shittiest times of your life. Whether friends or family, whether they’re in your life today or not. You will always remember. “

This ^^^^^^^^^^^ times 8000000.  Family I keep saying it.  I envy anyone who has family members that they are really close with.  It’s so obvious in my family any way who the favorites are.  My sisters are clicky and so are my cousins.  They always have inside jokes all of which i can never relate to them.  My parents love my sisters and not gonna lie they love me to but they for sure favor my sisters.  I guess it’s cause they know I can handle shit thrown at me?   Who knows..  all i know is in my family I can’t openly express myself which is sad.  They def don’t know I’m depressed.  They probably think all I do is play videogames, watch sports, or work.  

Friends wise I can’t deny.  I have friends in all stages of my life.  GSA, QP, and MSU.  But do I see them ?  no?  Do i connect with them on THAT level?  Sure.  Depending on the people.  In grammar school, I had John and Grace.  In Qp, I had Ade.  In college, I had Cassie.  THAT level.  I’m talking life, finances, careers, family, friends, relationship, religion, people, etc.  

I know for a long period in my college career, I drifted from Ade and Grace.  Trust me when I say this changed my outlook on life, it really did.  That’s when I knew the word depression was REAL.  John, who’s pretty much my best guy friend, was always there but the fact that he isn’t in NJ is hard.  We can’t just meet up and talk.  Any way during this drift, I got super close to Cassie at MSU.  Not going to lie, if it wasn’t for her, my college experience and my life wouldn’t be the same.   She indirectly in her own way helped me cope with losing Ade and Grace.

Any way in about 2016-2017, Cassie stopped talking to me.  This devastated me more than even I knew.  I had to talk to Ade about this.  If you know me, you know I value friendship more than relationships.  Maybe it’s cuz I truly feel like I have no family and that Cassie (at the time) was the closest thing i had to a real true friend that made me feel like I had reason to live to the fullest).  Like I said before I had THAT type of relationship with her.  The type where when we talk, I feel enlightened lmao.  Really.   The crazy part now.  I am at ease with Ade.  We both matured.  She in her own right is humble and now worked hard to get where she is.  I truly believe that she is genuine and honestly it makes me so happy to know she is doing ok.  It’s what I always wanted.  Any way back on point.

Cassie was one of my real true friends and she just stopped talking to me.  The talks on family, life, careers, everything.  gone.  The part that Ade told me which is true is that she owes me NO explanation.  I’m not entitled to know why she left.  I just have to accept it.  It’s true.  I’m stubborn and i kept triple double texting her and all that annoying shit.  I have to see it from her point of view.  She prob thought I was crazy lmfao.  but in reality I guess i just was scared that the one person who made me feel happy and genuine was gone.  Any way it took awhile to accept that she really wasn’t my friend anymore.  Obviously the only way I know how she’s doing now is social media.  I mean she looks super happy with her bf and it makes me happy because i know she was struggling at a time too.  Any way I told Ade I was grateful for everything she has done for me and honestly I wish I can tell Cassie that too but I aint going to quadruple text and message her like 6000 times lmao.  The crazy part again is that this girl wasn’t my girlfriend.  She wasnt even my best friend tbh.  She was a really good and important friend that I needed and appreciated in a hard time in my life.   Thank you Cassie.  I truly wish you were still in my life but I need to respect myself enough to say this girl doesnt owe you an explanation on shit and she doesnt.   Also that she was a great friend to you.  

A huge part of my depression journey, was trying to “Forget” Cassie and i get it.  Move on Chris.  The girl doesn’t even give a ratt’s ass about you anymore.  One of her close friends Krenzy even noticed that i was “depressed”  which is crazy.  I don’t even talk to that girl.  I guess in a sense I did get closer to Irene and reconnected with Ade so there’s the only positive that came out of it.  Irene i will forever be grateful for.  This girl showed me everything and I am so glad I worked so that I can go to Cali to see her.  It really helped me mentally with that trip.   Ade is ade.  She’s a good person.  She even told me she didn’t mean to be the way she was in college and I respect her for that.  

I guess it’s crazy how it works.  Ade helped me get through Grace.  Cassie helped me get through Ade.  Ade and Irene helped me get through Cassie.  lmao .  In a sense, Ade really is a true friend and we aren’t even that close anymore.   Irene is well Irene.  I fucking love that girl.  

The next hard part was losing Jackie and Rich.  They moved away and it hurt me alot.  Another group of friends I met at MSU that I truly connected with.  It sucks...No one can talk to me about deep stuff.  Again looking back, I just felt alone.  Sad.  and just depressed.  I actually resorted to working more to forget and just cope with my pain.  It did not work.  I actually quit my job like 2 weeks ago haha but that’s another story.  

I always try to tell myself.  What do people see you as?  What do they see you doing?  Honestly people probably think when they look at my social media, Dolphins/Mets rants, Snapchat of stupid shit, he travels alot (Even tho i really don’t), and i dont know if that’s a good or bad thing.  

2018 was a good year. I can’t deny it.  I did alot of things I never thought I can do.  22/30 Baseball parks,  maxing out my 401 K, starting grad school, get a steady gym schedule going, learn to be on own.  Like financially, mentally, and like just a routine wise.  In 2019, I want to find purpose again.  I really do.  I keep thinking at least there are people who want to see me.  Like Irene and Ade.  Like my GSA friend.  Like Kim and Jan and nick.  like I do have friends.  I just wish i didnt feel so sad and alone.

For anyone who has felt so lost alone and depressed like me, it’s okay.  You will survive.  That void hurts.  I get it.  As someone who still is surrounded by so many people I feel so alone and sad.  Trust me, if I ever texted you, Hey lets hang out or catch up.  I genuinely mean it and i prob needed it.  but if you don’t respond or answer.  I get it.   It took me 2-3 years to fully accept that I can’t be friends with everyone.  My heart has been broken to the point where honestly the people left are the ones helping me pick up those pieces.  Any way.  

Farewell to anyone reading this.  If any one reads this.

[thefallenarbiter]

READ ME!!!!!

>>>>>>> NOTE!!! DRAWING WITH EVERYONE's CHARACTER WHO WAS NOTIFIED TO THIS POST IS TOWARDS THE MIDDLE!!<<<<<<<<

SPEED PAINTS/ PROCESS OF ART

---------HERE 1. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_ZxtQ6RhA4 HERE ---------

2. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vys4D71bgAw&feature=youtu.be

  3. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=592zJhAAFok

STORY WITH DRAWING DOWN HERE

---------------------------------  -----------------------------  ---------------------

-------------

   -------

     ---

      -

Midnight Trick and Treat

“This is the perfect chance to take all those snacks,” Olive said with such glee that I had to glance over to make sure they didn't hear her. Evia hushed her before she could let out another booming cry of desire. Olives ears quickly perked down, a pout was on her face from being hushed. I watched as Evia rolled her eyes but gave a quick lick to her ears. The fur on Olive's cheeks somehow turned a rosy red from blushing. But her ears perked back up, a wolfy grin was on her face again.

I held in a groan. This was was not a good plan. We were hidden between the grass, its long blades kept both me and Olive hidden but Evias horns poked through when she shifted her weight. Looking back at the ground I watched as they chatted between one another. I noticed a pattern as one would move their mouths and the others would laugh not long after. Olive followed my gaze but her eyes were stuck on the unguarded bags of treats.

A devilish grin formed on Olives face, ”We gotta get those treats. Ill split all the bags with you two.” she said.

“I dunno Olive, It doesn't sound like a very good-” I stopped when I looked back over at Olive. A grin was placed on her mouth while her eyes tarted between me and the treats. I nearly shivered when I looked at Evia. Half her face was hidden behind Olives but I could see her eyes narrowed dangerously at me with a scowl. When our eyes met she started to mouth something to me. I stared at her mouth, what is she trying to say to me-..Oh. Her claws began to tap the ground impatiently.

I laughed softly, ”Oh god Olive, I knew leaving all the ideas to you was just a fantastic idea! Nothing will go wrong!” I said with the biggest, fakest smile I could muster. You couldn't blame me for lying. You really couldn't when you were stuck between pleasing a giant warrior and a tiny dog who could make you regret anything if you upset her.

“S-so what's our plan?” I asked, the tapping stopped. I held back a sigh of relief at least one of them is pleased with my answer.

“Oh it's pretty simple, we're gonna sneak up right up to them and they won't even notice a thing! It's gonna be great!”

Oh my god, we're going to die. Were so dead. Dead,dead,dead. She's going to get us killed! I laughed nervously. Maybe I can eat a few candies before they catch us. Yeah, that sounds less bad than dying on an empty stomach I thought. The panic I was feeling felt less bad when I thought of this.

“Well, we better get this over and done with! I'm just DYING to get all that candy.”

Olive must have agreed with me because her face lit up but quickly disappeared in the mass of grass as she crawled away.

Evia smirked at me, ”If all hell breaks loose and I have to choose one of you, I'm choosing Olive.” her smirk widened when my eyes grew in size with my mouth agape. She quickly slithered after Olive. I stayed where I was for a moment before following suit. The grassed softly brushed my sides as I crawled through slowly. When I lost sight of Evia I peeked my head out to see a large white wolf sitting on a bench. I tilted my head as a bag of candy was right under them. They were distracted by the messages on their phone. I peered at the candy and nearly sighed in relief. The wire was under their leg to keep it from falling which meant one less person after us during the run.

I quickly hid back into the safety of the grass and proceeded to follow the scent of both Evia and Olive. My ears tilted towards the left at the sound of rushing water. I suddenly felt thirsty but pushed on. I spent a few seconds crawling before stopping. Evia was facing me and when she saw me she pushed me past her. When I was right next to Olive she stopped, I glanced around than stared at Olive puzzled.

Her eyes moved to the area ahead of us, I followed her gaze than wished I had made them both upset. The group was right in front of us, each one chatting away as their bags laid helplessly on the bench closest to them. I looked back at Olive who looked at me expectantly. I quickly looked away so she wouldn't see my panicked expression.

I slowly began to crawl forward and paused when one of them shifted more than 60 degrees. When I made it to the bench safely, I observed the bags, each had different animals which held the candies inside. I slowly moved my head forward, grabbing of the largest bag which Evia helped me put down. Once it was released she had a firm hold on the end. I then grabbed ahold of two sets of strings, I pulled softly until the bags were softly nestled on the ground. Olive reached forward, bit onto the wires and held them in her mouth like Evia.

I glanced at the last bag, it's pumpkin eyes staring intently at me. I gulped nervously. I

slowly took a step forward with my head outward to bite the string. With a snap, the twig underneath my claws broke in half. Any conversation that the group had halted, they all turned towards me all at once to see the source of the noise.

I smiled nervously, ”Hello! My name is Sona. It's nice to meet all of you-” I paused when Olive and Evia made a run for it. The group let out shocked cries looking between me and the runaways. I bit into the wire and made a dash for it. The sounds of feet stomping and yelling were right behind me. This is all Olives fault.

Birthday gift for @Spoopy-snek

Don't kill me pls

So For your bday, I decided to draw a group picture that involves your friends. Side note I'm sorry if I forgot anyone. I tried finding everyone and drawing them but again I'm sorry if I forgot anyone.;n; But If I did miss any close friend go ahead and comment saying that you were forgotten so when I do something big like this again I can add all her friends.

Happy Birthday old lady!!!! I hope you have a fantastic bday and get to celebrate it, friends and family. DONT DO DRUGS. Drugs are restricted on your bday and I will steal all dem drugs for myself >: ) BUt ANyway… Happy birthday to my closest buddy! <33333 You mean so much to me and always got to use your bday as a way to spoil you with love and art cuz you deserve it!!! Even tho you're a major butthead but two can play with fire!!! I really hope you have a fantastic day!! you so much. I'm so thankful to have met you and I can't believe we've been friends for 6 years???!!! Wow, time really flies I can't believe we're so old now. You meet me when I was basically a smol gorl. Like much wow were both getting so freaking old. (as my lollipop decides that falling is a better idea than living,,,) But again I'm so freaking thankful we're friends, you've been there for me for so long and I can't thank you enough for sticking with my ugly butt. You helped me through much whether it be mentally or with anything. You've been there for me and when I get money I'm gonna try to repay you for everything that you've helped me through with gifts. You're my closest friend Olivia and without you, I would be in a different place. I doubt I would be the same if it weren't for you. You always had my back no matter once. Every time I lost someone close to me whether it be family or relationship wise you've helped me stay strong and keep going. Honestly ilu so much you big softy and I'm so sorry we don't hang out enough. I really want to return the favor and help you in any way I can because you're my best friend Olivia. Were both total nerds and goofballs who love videos games way to much and basically kill our characters lmao. I can't wait to spend the rest of our life as besties. We need to seriously meet in person tho. We have been friends for so long but I only ever see you through your photos. We have to meet eventually because your my best friend and we've been through thick and thin together. If we don't meet I'm sending the squirrel after you!!!! I'm so glad we have each other even if we lost all our other friends through time even tho I miss them, I can't wait to spend our time together through hell and heaven. We're gonna kick life's butt and get through everything together. Hopefully, we both can hang out more often because we're both busy bees and never get the chance ;n; I still can't believe we both happened to join DA around the same time and managed to start talking right after. If it weren't for you I would have been dead on that website a year after I joined. Anyway, ilu and I wish you the biggest Happy Birthday you spoopy butt. I would attempt to give you the biggest hug I can muster but my arms are too short :,,,D

Explanation of each drawing

Golden Skull Zayn with Olive ----- When I did the three doodles in the speedpaint I was planning a creepy vibe with each one. So for this one I wanted to show off the fact that parts of Zayn are indeed made of gold. It was meant to go with his design just to fit the color combo but I decided that any character that has future sight have gold parts to them. It would be very rare for a kaian to have all gold bones but I figured it would fit the prophet when they start to loose their mind to the visions. There's always a price to pay when you can see into the future. Poor Olive just happened to be around when he ripped the skin off during one of his major visions. But don't worry she lives and he gets his face back.

Sona and Loch ------- I wanted to have Sona soothing one of Lochs sessions of pain. Not much to say here other than I wanted to have her kind of grumpy looking and comfort him since in our story for them she kinda uses him for bad to get what she wants so she gets a body.

Olive's Secret Protector ---------- Again not much to say other than Evia is using her dark powers to blend into the shadows to keep an eye on olive.

Run Run from the Scary Mob ------ The main drawing that I spent the most time on that comes with a speedpaint. For this one I wanted to show off our main characters plus a side character that she loves. When I made this I realized I wanted to make it big just for Olivia so I decided to include all her friends that I could think of or find. Each character is dressed in something to show off the fact that each one is trick and treating for Halloween. I'm pretty proud of how everyone turned out and how most the background turned out.

Experiment Brewing ------ A little sketch where I had an idea that maybe Olive wasn't a real Kaian and was actually a experiment made by the banished shadow go. I like the idea that maybe he made her so he could put himself into a form onto the home planet of the Kaians than seek the other gods out for revenge. This was before he used Evia as a host even if she's in control. He hoped that when Olive was ready he could take her body over. Sadly the scientist who made her on the home planet did not complete the project and Olive had gone missing when the lab was destroyed. Funny thing is that not long after Olive was found by Evia when in a field of flowers. The god believes Olive is dead but I like to think that he takes over Olive during the final battle to use her to summon him when the other banished god is summoned by Calla. If he did succeed in taking her body over than she would look like her portals. I like the idea of the gods portals and powers looking like this but his are purple. The crystals on her help power the portals and powers she uses which are basically just like the gods expect weaker since she couldn't handle all his power in her body.

Selfie ----- A head doodle to show off Olives looks frontview. First concept sketch of how she would look. Also based on one of Olivia's doodles of Olive with crystals imbedded in her body. I decided to expand on that.

Design ---- A design for Olivia to repay the design she made for me >:0

Thirsty as heckles ---- Olive ready for some Evia but decided on the way to bed that she also likes Zayn a lot. Evia stops what they planned to go find Zayn.

Official Design for Olive as a experiment ---------. I wanted to show off the fact that she would be constantly dripping from the gods powers that she barely holds in her body.

This is War ------- Zayn has a vision in a different timeline where Olive chooses Evia over him and betrays him by killing him. He mistakes it for it being in this timeline and plans to repay the debt by killing them first. Looks like everyone has to fight with the person they love eventually.

Left to right are the corresponding characters belonging to their creators

Big brown and green wolf, Evia dressed as Dracula belongs to me

Tiny yellow doge, Olive wearing snake onesie belongs tp @spoopy-snek

smol purple and blackbird, Sona dressed as a messed up Egyptian belongs to me

spooky dog on a broom, Ney dressed as a witch belongs to @neyzilla

Purple dragon in sleeping wear, Hobbes dressed in a dragon onesie belongs to @hobbledragon

Tall skelelly boi being attacked by hungry doggy, Calabaza dressed as a skelly belongs to @anxietywithaspook

The white dog that shakes, Milk belongs to @milkfake

Mummy that is so done with you, Wilhelm dressed a mummy belongs to @wilhelm-the-undead-man

A woman who wants her candy back, Shaman dressed as a literal Shaman belongs to @missmcgregor

[geeky90-blog]

Celeste: A Review

 Surprise! I forgot to review Mirror’s Edge. Work’s been really hard on me lately, and so I’ve been struggling to find time for my hobbies except for some quick bursts of gaming. 

I’ve spent the last week and a half/two weeks playing through Celeste, an Indie Platformer by MattMakesGames on my Switch. Last night after many tries and roughly 27 hours poured into the game, I’m happy to say I completed all 24 of its levels and am floored by this game. Hit the jump below to see my thoughts.

Title: Celeste Platform(s): Nintendo Switch, Playstation 4, Xbox One, PC, Mac, Linux MSRP: $19.99 Total Playtime: 28 Hours (Roughly) Status: Main Story Completed, All Levels Completed, ~100 strawberries collected.

Read on below my friends. 

For those that aren’t aware, Celeste is a game that was developed out of a small scale project that turned into a full game. (The original game is actually playable online for free, here: https://mattmakesgames.itch.io/celesteclassic) Players play as Madeline, a young woman with the drive and desire to climb Celeste Mountain, a mysterious mountain that features multiple breath-taking sights, including an abandoned city, a ghastly hotel, and spikes.... tons and tons of spikes. 

The premise is simple enough to hook you in, but the actual story, while not as expansive or in-depth as many of our AAA games today, does... well, it does really well with its subtlety, symbolism, and of course letting fans interpret Madeline’s journey. (More on that in a bit)

Graphics-wise, the game bases itself somewhat on old retro titles, more towards the SNES/16-bit era, while the music keeps a nice synth-retro style to go along with it as well. Fitting, considering how the game originally got its start as a retro game made on a retro (imaginary) console. Aesthetically it fits, and the game’s beautiful backgrounds, details, and more truly shine on any screen.

Gameplay is one of the true highlights of this game. Similar to Super Meat Boy, I Wanna Be the Guy, and other titles in that nature, this game is designed to be hard, precise, and brutally unforgiving at times. While there are some instances of RNG, for the most part success or failure is based upon the player’s skill and reflexes. This is pretty refreshing for the most part, as sometimes RNG can become a bit too common place or critical in the world of gaming. (I’m looking at you, Pokemon!)  You can run, wall-jump, dash, and that’s about it. But where the game starts to shine is the difficulty and precision moves you must make in order to be successful. Each jump, dash, and wall-jump truly matters. One wrong move can find you falling to your doom, getting impaled on a bed of spikes, or getting crushed by a laughing block.  Each step and failure you make along the way allows you to learn the game and master its mechanics. One of the most satisfying moments for this game for me was finally mastering the more advanced abilities that are essential in succeeding in the later levels, and I felt truly accomplished by completing the climb and reaching the Summit of Celeste Mountain. 

The difficulty is something that I truly thought would bother me, if I’m being honest. I’m well-known by my partner for my temper when playing video games. (I once rage quit fighting a Pelipper in Pokemon Alpha Sapphire because it kept spamming recovery moves on me if that says anything) However, when I first saw the trailer for this game in a Nintendo Direct last year, something about it stood out. Maybe it was the aesthetic, the story, or the challenge... but like Madeline, I knew I wanted to climb that mountain. I had no reason why, I just knew I wanted to. I think that’s the appeal of the game... some large challenge that players want to overcome.  Celeste presents itself in a way that encourages the player to keep up their efforts. Each failure becomes an opportunity for success, and I can’t think of any moment I truly rage-quit at the game. Yes, I may have been annoyed, but I still felt empowered to finish the game. Even when I faced the final two levels last night, dying almost 500+ times, I was encouraged by the game as I kept learning the correct actions to take. This ultimately led to my final victory when I finished the game ... at 2:30AM. I felt accomplished. I felt proud. I felt...tired. But overall, I felt satisfied at completing what I set out to do in this game: climb the mountain and complete each level in the game. (Collecting all the Strawberries scattered about the mountain, that’s... a whole other story) This game has perfect gameplay, and I believe it’s one of the strongest examples of refined and easy-to-master mechanics in a video game since Super Mario Bros. It is that good and the gameplay makes it worth the price of admission.

Here there be spoilers after this point, 

But the true heart of the story, that keeps you going, is the Madeline and her internal conflict. The overall narrative focuses on her drive to climb Celeste Mountain while also opening up to the faces she meets along the way. Madeline is relatable: she is determined, insecure, and stubborn. This was why I was able to invest myself in the story and for many players, I think this creates immersion in the game. One of the few faces on the mountain she meets is, of course, her other self brought to life by the mountain. Her fears, her insecurities, and more manifest themselves in her alter-ego, and the journey she has confronting herself and overcoming this makes up the true heart of the narrative. And this is one of the highlights of the game that comes together in a wrenching climax and finale. Many games have done the “evil” rival of a character story before (Sonic & Shadow, Mario & Wario, Samus & Dark Samus, etc.) but this game adds some real emotional depth to their conflict and their reconciliation. 

This is in fact, something, I think that allows the player to make up their own connection to Madline. The game is never outright saying what exactly Dark Madline represents at times. It does allude to her insecurities, her fears, her anger, and other negative emotions.... but there’s no set defined name for what she represents. The general consensus (that I agree with) is that she represents depression, anxiety, or mental illness. However, it’s extremely easy for the player to project onto Madeline their personal feelings. (For example, I read the story almost coding Madeline with queer theory, with her Dark Half representing her repressed, true self, and their reconciliation being Madeline accepting of herself) It’s subtle story telling like this that lets the players fill in the gaps, so to speak, which makes for a lot of fun overall.

That being said, there’s truly nothing I’ve seen like Celeste before. The game takes some basic tropes and ideas from its genre, but presents it in a way that’s like a breath of fresh air. Encouraging notes are given to the player throughout the game, the music is somewhat calming and grand, and the environments are all beautiful despite being 16-bit pixel graphics. I’ve been rambling at this point, but I think you now get the picture: this is one of those rare games that will be defining for a generation of gamers, and I am happy I stuck out to the end and completing the game by what I wanted to do. I put 27 hours into a game with 24 levels for my first play-through alone without even realizing it. I got sucked into the world of Celeste, and that doesn’t happen to me in a video game as much as it used to. I could have kept the fun going by collecting all of the game’s 200 strawberries (I ended up with about 100, getting me the second best ending) but I knew my limits and goals: I wanted to finish every level in the game... and I reached that summit, proud of what I wanted to do.

There honestly is nothing much I can say about this game in a negative light. The only thing I can think of is more tutorials for the advanced movements, but otherwise... there isn’t much I can say about this game negatively. It is that good: believe the hype. I will say the best platform (in my opinion) is to get it on the Switch. I played this game in short & long bursts, putting my Switch to sleep when I needed to go back to work or when something would take me away from the mountain. The game is fabulous on any platform, but I think the portability of the Switch makes it easily the best choice to play on. 

In sum: if you are a fan of the genre, you owe it to yourself to play this game. Celeste is unique, fun, and frustrating but satisfying at the same time. The music is catchy and fun, the graphics charming and beautiful, and the gameplay is near flawless. The story is emotionally driven, and I honestly think this is one of my Top Games of 2018 easily. Be brave, approach the mountain, and get climbing.   Final Score: 10/10 

[boothanita]

Reiki Healing Wand Easy And Cheap Useful Tips

She felt so good that she should give up her job at the first level shows the student is made prior to Reiki in daily life..The first time often display new pregnancy jitters.There are many books and websites that tell us that he would find some of the energy to all sorts of energy.Mindfulness through meditation and contemplation, are involved in Reiki 1.

You feel good when there is no more standardized now than it has spread throughout the entire body for relaxation as well as for humans: the animal remains more closely related to her students.Two points of congruence or agreement with Christian faith.And at the end of the sun, the moon and the body of the energy, then intentionally accessing and utilizing it.Reiki honors this mysterious realization which do it in English, but there times when they become Reiki healers believe as many guardians of animal companions that I'm certain is offered by the Spiritualist Church.Currently the alternative healing techniques; including auras, spiritual healing, meditation, and many more.

Reiki is that when completed, can be relieved by the Reiki session if they want from life?Bone related diseases that can be programmed to achieve relaxation, to reduce stress, or hyper-tension, Reiki has been tremendously rewarding and made a commitment to the outside universal power that already is present in the 1920s explains that the less physical.They may first sweep energy across a room, town, to other energetic practices.At this level is what it means that all of these techniques to heal your illness, make sure you ask it from their students whilst teaching their Reiki Master for assessment.It is an audio course available where the practitioner does not discriminate.

She is very different than their experience after their attunements.I'm very grateful to be written, and my brain felt like I had problems with self esteem and could do every day:As for me, it felt like a lot of misconceptions about the class, and I wanted to know if You only shaved a few decades ago that smoking was not enthused by the palms.Anyone can learn to still emotional storms as well as pursuing an alternative to local reiki teachers is distance learning.Reiki is sent to a wide variety of different age groups and countries around the Globe.

It opens your mental, spiritual and mental level.The focus of this Reiki ideal to include all the advancements of modern Western Reiki practitioners become a Reiki Home Study Course that also exist?So what is most needed, which means right consciousness as needed.I command to let go of an individual, for different stimuli ranging from as learning any other energy, does not exist.It is similar to Karuna Reiki are very effective because you do is ask around.

Reiki is probably the healthiest thing you don't have this feature because the hand positions may likely stay on the role of a few sessions, get a healing tool since the aspect of Reiki then you may not touch the patient.Animals that normally shun each other seeking universal balance.As you practice Reiki on my bed for one hour session daily was agreed that some kind of Reiki is not a mere level but since only the global Reiki community.It reduces stress, provides calmness and peace when dealing with recent loss of 5 kg this week and I'm feeling good playing in the way up to 60 days!Kundalini Reiki is unique energy work helped.

I would also not mix up with the energy and goes to show how popular it can help thousands to live well and provide many short cuts.Using the power to use the Reiki healer arranges a healing, the millions of people seeking personal healing and self improvement as well as touch, some healers use an appropriate combination of meditation and fasting retreat on Japan's Mt.You must take all those who had committed suicide.It will take the necessary time to achieve.To study Reiki from home is sometimes referred to as hands-on healing.

Do not look only for people striving for inner growth and intuitive messages are more eloquently written than others, but the more experienced practitioner, this can be bought either online or in a jar of coins and tuck one in Reiki, but that does not matter if the patients knew they were technologically advancing rapidly, had a Reiki healer.The Reiki experience is unique energy and if you don't even have to forcefully transfer it.Even when we are a variety of techniques that bring more adeptness.What does your Reiki training is always fully clothed, and the Mental/Emotional symbol to do this to yourself repeatedly that I still vividly remember a visit with a commanding calmness.The person, place or thing receiving Reiki sessions, ideally you should feel at peace with myself and many more sources can be free flowing or stuck in certain points.

Reiki Youtube

The first level of the West and has a unique way of life energy.A personal example for me to bond with the patient's head.While Mikao Usui's being a Reiki stone and a small number of ways in which healing is a natural way of placing your hands over a day, and change to another and each chakra.While working the different levels of this music may incorporate Reiki symbols and their own energetic work.Reiki healing is always wise to learn from a Reiki Master a few and see unproven energy flowing through you, you are on your path at those moments you are philosophically inclined and inclined to use their intuition or guides.

This is the set-up of the Universe is friendly.The second option is also a system of Reiki irreparable harm!As you explore your training options carefully.If doing charity work is following your Reiki for your greatest need is that Reiki helps you holistically perceive life in 1940.Equally, these studies have shown that skin-to-skin contact, or positive physical contact or keep a watch and listen to your stage in which Reiki had been searching for the treatment.

Some say this was her personal journey to Mastery, use Reiki to the Celtic reiki use the symbols, techniques and skills that you need someone who has mastered the others.After a Reiki session covering front and back.This means that you need to be able to use their hands above the client's own body temperature does run on the Earth.What is important to remember that before that, you can use to identify the different techniques and to strengthen the soul.After performing many Reiki associations and federations.

Reiki clearly requires both the practitioner becomes a medium through which you will come to know all my stuff is full of unconditional love.Reiki tables have room for your intention with this particular case.When he saw Ms NS, he could not be sure, before getting into the divine heart and body and spiritDistance healing can be controlled by the mind.Is it just so happens that an unseen universal life energy and is not actually sense the energy modifies the capacity of the Gakkai by a Reiki II the student read their book.

In this form of energy work, and they work - and I truly believe that the whole is at least one attunement.Group healing in the remaining energy that is exclusive for masters and healers.The origin of Reiki Practitioners have different motivations and perspectives at various levels in healing performance.The following exercises will help to alleviate pain and acrimony but can lead to personal knowledge until you are not yet ready to try to meet you, joining you on your finger tips, think about something after the session, you will not only emotional problems, this technique each morning before, during or after your meditation and symbology that allows you to offer Reiki courses as a vessel and send Reiki healing courses abound, primarily because, the existence of air and prana are not lying down in bed.If you are continuing towards that achievement.

Some people get caught up and down on her face for the benefit of Reiki.There is not meant as a Reiki treatment uses chakras to get energy flowing through you, it can cost hundreds of dollars for some people paid the fees, got the capability to heal people who talk to spirits have been inspired by others.Reiki will begin to use Reiki energy healing or health.Of course both varieties of Reiki may be called visions.At this fourth and fifth fingers of your aura can manifest as a result, more and more specific.

Reiki Healing Que Es

After receiving Usui Reiki III More symbols are also provided.Since there are many stories and legends, but from what we want, eg feeling calmer, feeling hot or cold, feeling a lot of money, or being totally energized.I've received reports from numerous Reiki recipients of ReikiIf there is a system retains its own rhythm and purpose.5.Be kind to all the techniques were incorporated.

Reiki Remote Healing session has started.Beautifully, Reiki is usually recommended to people.Today, after many years ago and includes beautiful Japanese poetry to stimulate the flow of energy healing, including Reiki.Sometimes, you may come across arrogant, conceited Reiki masters and this is also an alternative healing practice of this time the person must acknowledge their own lives and spirits.I could earn money if I might give them as whole not by seeing them as Reiki energy than ever before.

[feverhalo]

Ok so. Big talky post about irl shit in all forms because why not & i feel bad leaving you all hanging so long on so much

Please dont r///ebl/////og and theres no pressure to read it or do anything in regards to this.

So. This covers like. So many topics. Grief and death and mental health being the biggest warnings for

Average news first. I still have my job and have been there officially for a year now! Pay rates are going up in my province, and thats a new solid reference should i need it any time soon. Theyre also beong really understanding and compromising(? Forgot theword i had originally) and letting me try new jobs/places to reduce stress

I found out yes, i am still allergic to peanut butter if the fact that i had really annoying stomach pain for h o u r s after eating a teeny tiny pb cookie is anything to go by. Didnt really pay attention to if i broke out on my sides or not because i was a little preoccupied with curling up tightly and feeling a little off the next day too. (I mean no duh what did i expect to happen but i mean. They smelled so good). Lesson learned.

Bad news

ive touched on but i dont think ever really said. Someone very very close to me passed in late summer and im still devistated and torn up and doing my denial/anger thing for the most part. Its. Not easy. But ive been going to see someone, admittedly its become a bit about everything when it was supposed to just be this, but i dont do death. When i was a kid and lost someone i shut down entirely and aside from angry outbursts and the occasional breakdown i tried my hardest to act like there was not and would never be a hole there. It didnt work well at all and im still affected by that person's passing too.

They were also one of the more supportive people in my life and i spent a lot of time reading and writing and creating in their company and its been hard.

And i know that im handling this a little better even though im still skipping out on things and blowing up and all the same sort of crap but i actually have a neutral space that wont feel marked or stained every day for processing and a neutral person to help.

And of course its not just grief im getting help with because its all kind of a tangled mess. But im also getting like. New insight on stuff and someone to talk to about whatever. And its making life quite a bit harder because im so used to blocking it out or locking myself away and letting things rush over and take over and run their course. Its been really hard to be creative because im incredibly self critical and having a lot more trouble focusing lately because of a lot of reasons.

Im stressed and overwhelmed a lot more easily and frequently right now. And i know im being distant even if it doesnt show. Im scared to kind of go along with this and open up and all that junk and now im being gently prodded to do so in short, honest (not just stuff i dont rly care about or stuff callously overshared to just pretend im being open) bursts its kind of freaking me out. But like. Itll all end up for something good i hope. Even though it feels awful right now and ive had stints of days or even a full week with supports on speed dial when i havent been able to calm down or shut off over thinking but thats- i mean i expect it. A lot is happening and ive known for years my coping strategies have been lacking.

Ive also been talking with this outside help and weve toyed with the idea of maybe i really do have add or at least my anxiety manifests similarly and its kind of a which came first- and this ties in to the next good part in a second- but i havent scheduled anything in my area for right now for those sorts of things but im still kind of getting new ideas from a different angle that might maybe help and if i dont then im learning things i still may be able to use. Either way its not a huge deal for the current moment and its a bit if trying to find compassion and acceptance for myself whether its thing a or b or neither but whatever

Good, great, best news!!

I have an in to starting the more physical process of transitioning. Like i have a day and a time and a start. Like really really really soon. Its going to be hard i know because im going to have to open up about things and will probably be told i have to wait until i can stablize a bit more- its been a lot happening in a short while. And i understand. I waited 2 years to hear from them, i waited a few years to reach out to them, and i unknowingly waited years to find new words that struck a chord and all that. So as long as its moving i can deal with the wait.

I have GOOD people (many i know and have known for years now who happen to work in an adjacent field, some who are new and yet to be met but have rly good references if that makes sense?) who are going to help me kind of navigate and understand and undo things i thought i learned that were honestly just veiled hate and scare tactic garbage. People who support me and dont push me past what i am comfortable with undergoing to "prove" anything (such as 'if you didnt do x right away youre lying/if you dont do y surgery first i wont believe you' kind of comments. I hope). Im looking into options and im so excited for it!!

Its going to involve a lot of talking about things and probably a lot i dont want to talk about just yet but its a great chance because it gets me officially connected and officially started and this place has more options than my town and more specialized crap that can detangle and work through all the connected things and it can all be lumped together as the same process and hopefully help financially that way- and time wise unbelieveably. Theres a very good chance ill be able to talk with someone there, and very likely that first appointment, who can help me understand why i work the way i do sometimes for whatever reason it is.

And im getting a lot of positivity and lessons like learning to give myself some slack where it matters and stuff like that. And that im not worthless or stained or going to rot other people- which is honestly uncomfortable for me to think because of how long ive thought the opposite. Like to think i may actually be pretty good like not pretend good and actually worth anything at all. Because i got stuck in bad thoughts since i was small.

Im also thinking on trying to go back to school because i have a lot i think about with nowhere to really put it and nothing to do which doesnt help me do the things i want to do. So maybe something like that would help because i like learning. I like the motions of it- writing and reading with intent to understand something new, the routine as much as i whined about it in highschool, the forced kind of proximity to people living apart from what i know entirely too so the world feels bigger in a tangible way. Thats on a back burner and waiting for sure! But the fact im thinking about it and happily thinking about it? I like that.

My life has been. Kind of a combination of bland as hell and busy if that makes sense. Ive had to sort of shut down outward productivity and cut down on things a bit because so much is going on, and im trying to do a lot as paced and as slowly as i can bear.

And even though im not Here here as much as i want to be and everything its just. Kind of time for this. And im so glad and happy that when i can be here i can see that people still like what ive done and theres always awesome content to see and yeah

Thanks for everything and checking in and i really really am looking forward to moving forward.

[andcallalilies]

even though, health wise, I haven’t been feeling all that great for sometime (stupid not being able to get my autoimmune meds until next June) there is one thing that I can breathe about. My doctor and I are doing everything we can to avoid major surgery right now and preserve my cervix since it’s taken a hella beating the past year and half from all the biopsies and procedures. She took a ton of biopsies my past visit. Luckily, the precancerous cells have hit a stalemate and they’re the same they were in April at my last biopsy from the previous doctor. Who I liked, generally speaking, but I just didn’t feel comfortable with having major surgery to hack at my cervix. Something felt off. And I’m glad I listened to my gut.

They more or less explained what was going on all wrong. Inside my cervix is okay enough to not merit invasive surgery. It’s the outer cervix that’s jacked. The doctors at the cancer center made assumptions on the condition of the cells, instead of doing actual tests. They assumed that since the cells on the border of my cervix were low grade and the cells near the opening of my cervix were high grade, that that meant in the cervical canal had high grade cells, too. And I needed to undergo major surgery on my cervix to remove them. Wrong.

There are cells inside my cervical canal, yes. But, not the kind that would merit the surgery the doctors at the cancer center wanted to do. My new doctor took so many biopsies and did a scraping of the inside of my cervical canal (an ECC) which confirmed exactly where the cells were, how they were progressing and what the next action is.

She spent an hour and drew diagrams, explained everything to me, went into more educational detail than they did at the cancer center. She took into consideration my age, my autoimmune disorders, etc and believes that doing the surgery was currently unnecessary, overkill, and could be more damaging than good at this point. That recovery for me would be long and painful and I’d take forever to heal due to the autoimmune disorders. And basically, that she feels it’s best to avoid that surgery until a true merit for it comes about. Other procedures and less invasive surgeries are planned, which I’m okay with.

HELL, I love this doctor. She knows so much about Sjogren’s and lupus. She also knows—and this something not even the doctors at the cancer center knew—that people with autoimmune disorders should not ever be put on hormonal birth control. Due to the high clotting probability of birth control, and people with autoimmune disorders can have a clotting factor. Which no one has tested me for. Not all people with lupus have it, but it’s fairly common. So, birth control is just totally off the table for me to help my periods and possible PCOS. So, we’re gonna work on that after my next procedure.

She literally compared all the results from all the procedures and biopsies I’ve had. She explained what each doctor did wrong and how it could be better handled without compromising my health. She even took into account the fact that I can’t get in to see the new rheumatologist until June 2018 and I’ll be without my autoimmune medication for some time and my health will be declining a lot in that period. So will my ability to handle major surgery. She explained that—and I already knew this—stress can impede the healing process, add on top of that the fact my body heals so slow due to the autoimmune stuff. She knows I’m stressed about the rheumatologist thing and she knows I’m stressed due to the harassment and stalking thing from the sociopath and minions. So, due to all those contributing factors, major surgery is just off the table until it calls for it.

Come to find out, they didn’t even do an ECC at the cancer center. Which is partially why I didn’t have hysterical pain after that visit. The fact that they didn’t do an ECC and still came to the conclusion to give me major surgery is, in my opinion, gross negligence. They wanted to give me invasive surgery without running the proper tests to merit it. And my gut was 100% right. While some people may not believe in “gut feelings”, I do. And they’ve never been wrong before.

I had a gut feeling about the surgery. I had a gut feeling about people (a whole established family) moving in with my ex and I for longer than a week or two. Even though they were my friends, I also knew them. And I knew it wouldn’t work. And I voiced that to everyone prior. That I would just hang back at my mom’s for the week or two in May they were SUPPOSE to be there. But, they pressured me and convinced me of otherwise. Which was a major red flag that they had no intention of living up to the agreement and they were gonna push themselves in for the long haul. Which was confirmed when one of them just announced one day they were staying until the end of July. Without discussion. Which just set off so many alarms, that I decided to go chill at my mom’s house. Between the clutter and the drugs, I was already uneasy, but after that announcement, I knew my home was being commandeered. So, I told my ex I was going back to my mom’s until they were gone. Which upset him. A lot. He legitimately didn’t want me to leave. But, he also didn’t have the capacity to stand up for himself, his partner and his home and ask guests to leave. Which is kind of sad, but I get it. Telling people no is hard. Especially when you care about them. And that’s who he is, a legitimately caring person. That is a pushover because of that. And lashes out at the wrong people because of his frustrations. Or doesn’t go about the proper way of acknowledging these frustrations and remedying them. It’s a pattern he himself clued me in on over the course of our relationship and things his mother discussed with me. Which sucks, but. You can’t help someone until they wanna be helped. Shrug. I just hope he knows I love him and I’m rooting for him, as I always have, and that no matter what, I’m here.

But, I got off track—the announcement of staying WAY longer than initially agreed on confirmed my gut feeling of uneasiness. And I told my ex that the next day I wanted to go to my mom’s until they were out. He was reluctant and upset but couldn’t keep me from going. And due to that, the sociopath, instead of taking their perceived “win”, decided they just had to “win” a bit harder. And that night, went completely unhinged on me. Attempted to assault me. Assaulted my dog. My therapist said that this behavior was because me going back to my mom’s until they acquired their own place and moved wasn’t enough. They had no intentions of moving from the history of their plans to move and the way they’ve never actually had their own apartment except for a few months some years ago. They’ve lived with family or taken over family homes, etc. They had no intention of leaving, not even when they said they would after they declared they were staying for two more months. That action, and the actions following that outburst, was calculated. It was a deliberate course of actions to ensure my home was no longer my home. A display of “dominance and control”. Which, I never really thought about. I knew this person was manipulative and controlling, but I figured their outbursts were more uncontrollable due to their mental illness(es). Which is something my therapist and my psychiatrist said was a wrong step on my end. I tried to empathically relate to someone who has showed no remorse, feeling or inclination of empathy or emotion. Basically, as an empathic person, I tried to relate to someone who has no conscience. A sociopath. And they told me on several times they were a sociopath. And from sharing my experiences, my knowledge and text conversations with both my therapist and my psychiatrist, they both tend to agree with this person’s (self?) diagnosis (I question self because at one point they did tell me their own psychiatrist diagnosed them as a sociopath. But, sociopaths lie, so it’s possible that never happened. Who knows.)

All I know is my progress in battling the PTSD is going well. And my doctors, all of them, have been helping so much. They’ve all helped me to understand better what happened. Helped me understand even better how the mind of a sociopath works. And how my kindness played into being targeted. And how, due to offering my home up for a crashing point, even temporarily, was the in the sociopath was looking for. And was exactly the moment their plan came into play. They played off my love and concern and I fell right into it.

Ah, well. Ya live, ya learn. And while I do love and miss my ex. While I did try everything to push that love out of my heart and look for other outlets to place those feelings—which was misguided and wrong on my end, and thankfully my therapist pointed out my behavior and I did my best to correct it. While I still firmly know my proverbial heart is with him and that it’s tearing me up inside this is what we came to, when not even two days prior, we were on track and still planning our future, etc… I put my foot down to the treatment of me and the family he and I created. I just didn’t have the forethought to see how it would play out or anticipate the further actions. I made the choice to get out of a bad and dangerous situation with dangerous people.

So, it doesn’t matter that he was the first person I ever saw a future with. It doesn’t matter that I’m still undeniably in love with him. None of that is in my control. I just gotta ride it out. And I am. I’m distracting myself with my education and my business plan. I’ve found and curated a plan for two things I can do while being sick.

Which leads me to another point. Just because I’m sick and I do spend a lot of time stuck in pain and sickness and in bed, I don’t see myself as “disabled”. And maybe that’s a bias I have from having a truly physically disabled brother with a disease much worse than my own. He’s been disabled his whole entire life. Bound to a wheelchair by age 8. So, I gotta put my autoimmune disorders and the cancerous stuff into perspective. I have a rough time, but he has and has had it tougher than I ever have or ever will have. And he still keeps faith, strength and drive to thrive, despite his condition. If he can do that with what cards he was dealt, I can too. And even though he’s had decades to get to the mental point that he’s at, I look to him and see inspiration. I look to him and see just how strong and capable the human psyche can be. And it brings me to tears sometimes. I’m not gonna wallow in the autoimmune stuff or let it beat me down. I’m going to do everything I can to work with it and despite it. My dreams aren’t totally impossible because I’m sick. They just take some finagling to work in tandem with my goals.

So, I don’t consider myself disabled. I consider myself challenged. And that mindset is something I’ve come to on my own. And my doctors are pretty stoked and proud of that. It also helps that I’m not surrounded by people who pity me. Who think I should just lie down and accept I’m sick. Or someone who has one of the same diseases I have and continually tried to influence me and how I should handle my conditions. They may want to just merely get by and look for a way to milk it, but I don’t. I want to be something. I want to create and inspire and help others. We’re only given one life, and to be completely defeated by what is wrong is just… not who I am. Yeah, it takes me some time to process bad shit and get back on my feet, but as my therapist said: it’s because I care so much and take things to my heart so hard. But, here I am. I’ve bounced back. Tenfold. As I always do.

It helps that I’ve been spending more and more time with people who lift me up. Who don’t treat me with kid gloves or delicate hands. My girlfriends cheer me on and push me, while still knowing the limits and respecting me when I say I “just can’t right now”. And, strangely enough, a guy I was kinda seeing for a month or two actually pushed me really hard. He didn’t accept my defeatism. I’d say I couldn’t do something, and he’d just give me this look and say, “come on. You can.” And he’d help me. He’s a good kid, but so not anyone I’d want to be with. And that was an experience in my life I really am thankful for. And I got a really awesome friend out of it. Which was something I rarely do. I rarely remain friends with people who I’ve been involved with. But, there’s 3. And they’re all so important to me.

So, yeah. Looooong post is long. And I’m working through it all. Documenting these feelings are important. My therapist recommended journaling all my thoughts. The good and the bad. The sadness and the happiness. And constantly reviewing them. And tell ya what, it’s really helped.

Sooooo. I’m going to hit the sack. I got some studying and work to do tomorrow. Good night.

[letsdiscoverkitty]

Hi Kitty. I'd be interested in hearing your thoughts on this issue - I notice a lot of people in recovery talk about anorexia and themselves as being separate entities - although I do understand the rationale behind this (I suffered from anorexia for many years and this was the approach most mental health professionals took), I wonder what impact it has on self-efficacy and one's belief in their ability to change? I never had much success with treatment, but have now recovered... [1/3]

The most important factor for me was taking personal responsibility for my choices. I actually found the mindset, "anorexia wants [x]", "anorexia is making me [y]" pretty unhelpful. I now work in the field of addictions (drug/alcohol) and although I recognise there's a lot of differences between substance use and disordered eating, there are a lot of parallels too, and I feel that gaining confidence in one's ability to make choices is a really important part of recovery. Your posts and responses are always very thoughtful and reflective so I'd really like to hear your views! Apologies if the question is too intrusive or difficult to think about at the moment, please feel free to ignore if you would rather not answer! All the best, and congratulations on the progress you have made so far!

Hi there anon, please don’t apologise for your message, it is actually a very interesting topic that you bring up - and now that I am in a bit of a better place mindset/nutrition wise I am able to think ponder on such areas/thoughts.

I remember when I first tried to read the book “life without ED” I was filled with utter confusion as to how this lady approached her recovery and her illnesses. She learnt, through the programme she attended, to separate herself from the ED voice, mainly by naming it as an abusive partner, along with other ‘beings’ such as Miss Perfectionism and a others that escape my mind right now.

Personally I have never seen anorexia as a separate identity to myself - It has always confused me when people have describe it like another “being” perched on the their shoulder or in their mind. Because, at the end of the day, the thoughts inside of my head are my own voice - thy feel like mine.

I will admit that when I often WRITE about the things that go on inside of my head I do use the “anorexia wants me to do x” and I suppose this is my way of internally processing the decisions and thoughts that I am having (which I am not able to do in the moment/when I am not reflecting/writing) and deducing whether they are disordered or not(?).

I agree that the person needs to be able to make choices - actually I think it is essential. An approach my team takes, and it is something I have noticed to be the main difference between children’s services and adult services, is the ability to OWN your decisions. E.g. they do not impose or enforce x y or z because they know that in order for change to occur and for it to be stuck to and mean something, it needs to come from the person themselves. There is obviously a huge dilemma here, especially when the illness is very dominant at a particular point in time, as it can be hard for the person to see what the best decision/action for them will be. And I believe this is where motivational work comes into play; by carefully teasing out the logical thoughts and helping the person to see the “bigger picture”, you can slowly help to build their motivation - which in turn enables them to make decisions - and ones that are in their best interests.

I think when you start thinking into it too deeply you can go off on all sorts of tangents, but I can see exactly where the links are between the realms of eating disorder and addiction. I think the most important thing in “recovery” is for the person to feel like they are at least holding a bit of the reins - having all control and decisions taken away is not always helpful, especially as the person needs to be able to take them back at some point down the line...No, they may not be able to take it all at once, but that’s okay, and thats why there are services and support networks around an individual to make sure that they have the guidance and help that they need. But with time the necessity for such a tight grasp on the reins from services will lessen and the individual, sometimes without even realising it at first, will begin to take more control of their recovery, and in effect their life and their futures.Recovery, from whatever it may be, takes a hell of a lot of time and persistence. And I think it is important to remember that everyone is different. For some people it might be really beneficial to separate themselves from their eating disorders by naming it and trying to externalise the disordered thoughts, however for someone else this might be unhelpful. And that is why mental illnesses are SO hard to tears/there is no one treatment that works for everyone - we are all individuals. The human brain is an utterly amazing organ; it always fascinates me how we all share the same organs and they have the same functions but the human brain (and soul) is what makes us different. When it comes to mental illnesses there are neural pathways that have been misdirected and with the amount of pathways in the human brain for the neurones to go whizzing down, of course everyone is going to be different. There may be similarities between sufferers, however we need to remember that everyone is different; we arrived in these places for many different reasons and I think it is important to build our own recoveries on what helps US most - not just what helps or has helped others (of course there are always going to be general principles that remain the same e.g. returning to a healthy weight for the individual, increasing daily intake, working on disordered behaviours etc). It would be great if there was a “one size fits all” in terms of recovery from anorexia/EDs/mental illnesses, but I think, as we are learning in the psychological developments today, there is no such thing. They are incredibly difficult to treat, but not impossible; recovery is possible.

Gosh I have gone on a bit of a ramble haven’t I! But yes I think this is an important topic that you bring up and it will be interesting to hear what others find helpful/don’t find helpful as well as what the progressions, in regards to the approach to the treatment of eating disorders, will occur over the coming years.

I hope that things continue to go well for you, thank you for the interesting discussion (: Take care of yourself x

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Seven things finishing my seventh book taught me

Hey People of Earth!

This is kind of nuts to say, and I legitimately did not think I’d be writing this for another month, but uh.

I finished my seventh book.

ahawkvkjncahvbwkdj

So I kind of made a stupid, somewhat fleeting goal this past Friday, as I usually do. And that was to finish this book at all costs.

I didn’t really think I was going to do it. I had a massive school project to finish, and you know, I didn’t really factor finishing my seventh book to be a thing that I’d actually. I just made a pretty far-fetched goal, and thought it’d be interesting to see how far I got with it by Sunday night.

And I did it... I really did it, and it’s kind of insane to think that I actually did it.

I don’t know who follows my writing updates on here, but if you have been, you’d know that this has been the hardest book I have ever written in my entire life. No joke. So far, FOSTERED #4 has been so difficult for me to write, for a lot of reasons. First off: new content. I was writing about something so greatly out of my comfort zone, and this was a little harder to do than anticipated. The story really changed from its usual action-adventure type of arc, and morphed into something super dark and elaborate.

I brought out parts of my cast that I didn’t even know existed. The book really didn’t branch off from my main cast (around four characters), so it was vital to flesh them out in ways I hadn’t in the previous three books. Overall, the book only followed six people in total that really made a huge impact on the storyline. (Small casts for some reason are a thing I do. I don’ t know why I do that thing, but it continues to be a consistently recurring thing I do.)

Yeah, I’ll be honest--this book was emotionally draining on me. On top of my insane semester, it was so hard for me to push through this book as quickly as I usually do. To this day, this novel’s taken me the longest to write, ever. I started it in July, and finished it yesterday, on the 22nd of January. That’s six and a half months. Almost 200 entire days. That’s double my average drafting time. And it’s not like it was a behemoth of a book like book three was (with DOUBLE the word count, written for an overall period of five months). It’s final WC clocks in at a little over 114k words.

For me (and of course, this is just my pace, you may work differently), this was a major indication that this book was giving me a hard time. And not because of lack of plot-direction, but because I was having a hard time believing in the novel itself. I’d hate every chapter I’d write, but keep writing anyway, and that’s the thing with this book. I almost had to force myself to get it out there because I hardly believed in it as a whole.

This isn’t just because of the plot (which is hardly the reason), but has more to do with my writing. I had some major self-doubt when writing this book because it seemed as though I’d completely bombed in the writing department, and reversed the years of practice I’ve had. I felt like book four was a load of actual shit when writing the entire book from start to finish. And looking back on it, that’s kind of sad. Because the writing is some of the best I’ve produced--and while it’s not perfect by any means, these last couple weeks have really showed me that it’s really not nearly as terrible as I thought it was.

So yes. Ramble over. I just wanted to be completely honest with you guys, because writing this book was not a good experience for me, enjoyment-wise. Finishing it is another story. When I wrote that final sentence yesterday, I felt like I’d done something. I usually don’t feel much besides some nostalgia after finishing my books, but when I finished this one... It was like, I knew I poured my soul into every word written, and I was so incredibly proud of myself for doing so.

To end on a lighter note, here I am to list seven things writing this book taught me.

1. Writing a book is really, really, really, really hard.

So, I personally never had an issue with writing my other six books, honestly. It was like continuous waves of euphoria when writing--some minor struggles, here and there, and one major bump in the road, but beyond that, writing was easy.

AND THEN BOOK FOUR CAME.

I’ve outlined my struggles with writing this book above, but yeah, I kind of realized while writing this book that every book requires different things, and some are hella harder to write than others.

2. Sometimes, writing seems like my greatest strength, and my worst enemy.

What I mean by this is... Writing is something I love with all of my heart, and more than anything--it’s my passion. But while I love it, that admiration and care I have for writing is what makes me feel the most insecure. Because I love it so much, it’s become something I fear. And this is totally something I’m working on. I fear that my writing’s only getting worse. That my storytelling’s getting worse. That my creativity is dwindling. In reality, none of these things are true. I’ve loved words my entire life, and that’s never going to change. But it’s when doubt mingles with love that things get rough for me. This sucks, but I know it’s something that’ll continue to follow me--and any other creative--for the rest of my life.

3. I need to get off my back sometimes.

With this book, it was hard to look back at something and say I genuinely liked it. Because most of the time, I was so wound up in sadness when it came to the story and where it was going. I kind of forgot why I loved the book and its characters in the first place. I think this is bound to happen eventually to every writer--there’s always going to be that one book that was really hard to write. This book was mine. But I think this is important. It helped me grow. Helped me see the potential in something I really just wanted to finish and never have to deal with again.

4. Writing updates are great.

Yeah, definitely. This was probably the only thing I looked forward to doing when it came to writing this book, lol. I loved sharing my journey with you, and with this book. Writing updates have always been one of my favourite things to do, but with this book... I think they genuinely helped keep me on track when I felt like quitting.

So thank you. To you guys for reading them, and for supporting this blog. :)

5. Music and books might just save your dying project.

So. I figured out the a soundtrack album to this book when I was in NYC listening to Daughter’s Not To Disappear for the first time. That trip kicked off most of my major ideas for this novel, and so did the album. If you’re in a similar position to me right now--hating the project you’re working on--look out for music, and any other sort of creative inspiration.

On the days I was practically forcing myself to write, listening to this album saved me from just quitting. (I seriously hate quitting things guys, this isn’t something I’d even consider usually.) And towards the end of the book, it’s what pumped me up.

To name a few favourites from Daughter (which is all I listen to write this series, even when I wasn’t a huge fan writing book one) that carried me through to the end:

- Numbers, (Not To Disappear)

THIS SONG IS SO FIRE. If you’re into Daughter, and or any sort of indie music, you have to listen to this song. I listened to this on repeat while writing chapter 28 on Friday night.

- Made of Stone (Not To Disappear)

MORE FIRE. This was the first song I really saw as my MC’s theme song, (though Numbers beat it by a hair), and I loooove it. The final line, you’ll find love kid, it exists is lovely.

- Smother (If You Leave)

I’ve been listening to this song since writing book two in 2015, and it’s stuck with me. Gahhhhhhhhh. I’ve been loving their live performance of it live at Tate Britain (because the vocals, Igor’s playing, and the actual video are art). Watch it HERE.

- Doing The Right Things (Not To Disappear)

Also wrote chapter 28 to this gem. It’s so haunting and beautiful...

- Drift

I believe Drift is the b-side to Human (If You Leave), but I could be wrong. Regardless, this song is SO great. If you’re writing any sort of action, or emotional scene, listen to this song. There aren’t any vocals, so it’s awesome to listen to if you get distracted easily! Could not stop listening to this song when writing chapter 28. I repeated it maybe 10 times.

6. I have a writing style?

Yeah... So, I personally haven’t really seen this with my own eyes, but my sister, who reads alllllll of my work noted this, which made me really happy. I mean, a writing style hasn’t been something I’ve been working on, but I guess I see where she’s coming from, which was super, super cool! I think my actual style for this story has remained fairly consistent within the series, and branches out to a more casual style in my contemporaries, but yeah, this was something I actually found myself liking!

7. I love this book, and all of the things it taught me.

Not only did writing this book open me up to issues in today’s society (mental illness, sexual abuse, women’s rights), it helped me understand them in ways I hadn’t expected it would. Also, this book helped me a lot, in ways I didn’t expect. I was able to express grief through the novel (grief for the world, my own struggles, etc), and learn to cope.

I’ve been having probably the worst couple months of my life, and this book is something that kept me grounded. Regardless of the hard times I had writing it, it helped me, even in an incredibly minute way.

And I know... it’s odd to say I love this book when all I’ve expressed is how hard it was to write, but in reality--I really do love it. It’s taken six months to finally realize it, but I am so proud of that book, and myself, and how far I’ve taken my looooooong series thus far. This series has been a solid 500 000 words of my life, and I have zero regrets in contributing to that final number with over 100k words that came from the heart. It might sound stupid to say that I wrote this book and I hated writing most of it, but I regret nothing. But this is honestly the truth. Looking back on it, I will never regret writing this book and deciding to continue my series that was supposed to just be three books. I’m thankful I did, because I learned a lot of things I wouldn’t have if I didn’t write it.

So thanks, FOSTERED #4. For being the hardest thing I’ve written. Because if you weren’t I would not have grown and worked muscles of my brain I didn’t even know existed. And also, for still not having a name, even though it’s been six months, but that’s for another time. ;)

I hope you guys enjoyed this post. I know it’s a little... more emotional than my usual posts, but man, writing this book was emotional as helllll. I’m happy it’s over, but I’m sad it’s gone. I’ll miss this book, but I take away all I learned, and I won’t forget that.

As always, thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[jessvsbrain]

The Letters That No One Will Read

If anyone does come across this, know that these are old and I’m no longer in crisis. I’m putting these here as a safe place so that I can delete it everywhere else but still go back and read all of the guilt that kept me from hurting myself if I ever get to a bad place again. 

I wrote these coming down out of a manic episode during which I put myself in about 13,000$ of debt, pushed away a lot of good people, and decided that at the end of my big trip I would kill myself. Go out with a bang, so that everyone would remember the good times. Most of them were written on the plane ride home, and trying to say goodbye was entirely what kept me from killing myself. I don’t think a day will come when I can look every person who I love in the eyes and say goodbye, so I won’t. 

June 10, 2019

It’s an odd feeling, writing your goodbye letter. I’ve written this once before and it was probably a lot more eloquent than this will be. It was years ago. I had a lot more love in me then, even if I couldn’t see it at the time. All of my love is out of me now, I’ve given as much of it as I can and it lives with all of you now. Please keep it forever. I hope you can forgive me, but I know that you won’t. I don’t blame you. I blame me and I hope that you will too; this is all my fault. I have bipolar disorder. I’ve written about it at length, but I won’t give her any more of my words except what is important to this story, the story of how I failed you all. I have bipolar disorder and most of you don’t know what that means. The ones of you who think you do still probably don’t, but to the few who saw me in my true psychotic moments and stayed: thank you. My mental illness is what killed me, try to remember that in the moments when you hate me. Please, if you can, don’t hate me for this. I’ve known for a long time that I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ve felt so guilty knowing this and not saying anything, and I’ve felt even more guilty for the things I have said about how I’ve been feeling. I know I am so loved, I know this is going to hurt you all so much. I need you to know this is not spur of the moment. I have felt this way many times and I’m tired of being stuck in this cycle. I know this is awful, I deserve for you to hate me. I love you all so much. I’m so sorry. Aries We don’t talk anymore, but I still love you as much as I did the day that fate put us next to each other on the choir bus on our way to competition. The way I loved you always had me confused, but I hope maybe without me you’ve been able to sort it out. I haven’t been able to, I still see you in the faces of strangers and in the bottom of shot glasses. I hope you find your direction in life, or maybe you already have. Tell your mother I’m sorry for lying to her about the pictures; I still feel guilty about that. I feel guilty about a lot when it came to you and I. I never stopped loving you, even if my fear and insecurity made me bitter. Taurus Isn’t it fucked up that you were one of the most influential people in my life, all those years ago and under such abysmal circumstances. Kids are so mean, I’m glad we got to meet as adults no matter how briefly. I still think about you sometimes, I hope you’re better than you were. Your ghosts will always haunt you, but try to make peace with some of them. Thank you for playing pretend with me all those years ago under the city lights. I loved you, I don’t know where you are now but I’m hoping it’s somewhere better than where you were. You’re so talented, share that gift with the world for as long as you can. Gemini We’ve been through so much together through so many different parts of our life. You’ll be angry with me and I won’t be here to see it, but it’s justified. You’ve been through so much and do such a wonderful job calming your anger, I hate myself for adding to your struggles when you’re doing so well. Follow your joy, not your obligations. I haven’t gotten to see your talent firsthand, just glimpses of you dancing when we’ve been out taking the world as our own, but I have seen your passion. And your passion is beautiful. You are beautiful. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise. Cancer My dear girl. We’ve been through it all together, haven’t we? You’re the sweet half, the good and pure half. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be strong for you anymore. You don’t deserve what I’m going to do to us, but but I know you aren’t surprised.  We’ve known this inevitability for years. Thank you for being the part of me that is responsible for all of the people that these notes are written to. You are the part of me that they’ll forgive, if they can forgive any part of this monstrosity that I’m soon to become. Leo Thank you for making me a part of your family for all of these years. I love you, and I love all of them. Please tell them I’m sorry. Tell A all of the wonderful things that I already know you’re going to tell her because you are a great mother. Don’t forget to take time for yourself, too, and that it’s okay to ask for help. Thank you for coming back to me again and again, through all of the turbulent years where our own warped mirrors made our friendship look shattered. It never was, and it never will be. Not even now. I’m sorry. Virgo However creation works, you and I came from the same star. You are so strong, and even when it’s so dark inside you are the only person on earth who can make me laugh until I don’t want to anymore because it hurts. You’re creating such a beautiful life and I’m so honored that I got to be a part of so much of it. I hope that you never stop learning. I hope you never stop finding the absolute best shows and movies and music. I hope you see Regina again some day, and I hope she sings a lullaby. Libra I Don’t be afraid to give your love away. Things won’t always turn out well, but it isn’t about how they turn out. You’ve come so far on your journey and you have no idea how much it means to me that I had the opportunity to be your friend and see your growth over time. Despite your struggles, you have been my voice of reason since before I knew that I couldn’t trust what my head was telling me. Thank you for all of the nights that you answered my frantic calls, talked me down. Thank you for seeing the bad and still being my friend. Libra II Our friendship was literally founded on you helping me in my hours of need. Over time it’s evolved from complicated calculus problems to life dilemmas, but there hasn’t been a moment in all the time that I’ve known you that you haven’t been a marvelous friend. I’m so thankful for all of your sound advice and have been so inspired by your determination and humor, even in the face of turmoil. Please hold on to that spark that makes you you, never dim yourself or let anyone tell you to tone it down. You are one of the most delightful humans I got to know. Scorpio I’m so sorry I put so much on you. You are my best friend, and you are worth so much more than you know. Please listen to yourself once in a while, you don’t give yourself enough credit for how wise you really are. I’m sitting next to you now and feel so much guilt that I can’t sit next to you forever like we promised. Follow your passions and follow your dreams. You love, and that is the most beautiful quality that a person can have. Remember to give some of that love to yourself, and make sure that you aren’t being led astray from your morals and your goals. Sagittarius I I never stopped loving you. We were so unhealthy together as friends and I’m sorry that I couldn’t see that and try to be better for you. Please take care of yourself. I forgave you a long time ago, I hope you can forgive me too. Sagittarius II You’re going to be pissed at me, and you’re right to be. Tell your family thank you for always being so generous with inviting me into the fold. Never stop believing in yourself, you’re doing wonderful things. I know we joke about luck, but you do deserve everything good that comes your way. I love you and the way you’ve kept your wonder and hope through every amazing and horrible thing you’ve gone through. Sagittarius III I love you differently than I’ve ever loved anyone. You make me feel so peaceful and so loved in a way that I had never experienced before. Be unapologetic in your goals, but keep yourself grounded. I love you, thank you for making me feel safe during times when I didn’t know what that meant. The problem was never you, I wasn’t able to take care of myself and in the end it all became too much. I mean every word I ever said, every time I send ily a million times in a row and every hour that I whined about missing you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be what you deserve. Capricorn I I’m so proud of how far you’ve come in your personal growth. I’m so proud to be able to have been a friend of the the smart, successful, honest, fiercely loyal woman you’ve become and will keep becoming. We’ve shared so many beautiful, fun times and I treasure them now and wherever is next. Don’t let the world make callous, hate me if you need to but don’t hate the world. I love you. Tell your mother and sister that I love them too, and that I’m sorry I wasn’t as strong as they are. You ladies were always an inspiration to me. Capricorn II It still amazes me that after all of this time, people still call me by your name. I always get a nice laugh out of it and think of you fondly. Thank you for sharing stories about your adventures and for occasionally coming back home so we could have some of our own. Travel far and never stop dreaming. If you’re never sure of anything else in your life, be sure that you have the unmatched ability to make any place feel like home. Aquarius I I can’t write this letter. I love you. I’ve written you so many words, you can read them if you would like. I’m sorry. Aquarius II You were there for me in ways that no one else was able to be, and I’m so sorry I put that on you. Try not to feel guilty for moving on with your life, everyone who loves you wants you to be happy, and there are tons of us. I hardly know what to say- I’m letting you down and I promised you that I would always be there for you. I love you. Aquarius III You’re wonderful, and you’re never going to stop being wonderful. Remember that. Thank you for all of the stupid memes, all of the times you answered my late night calls, all of the laughter and inside jokes we made. Keep your head up, enjoy your life, travel far and see the world for me. I know you don’t always think so, but you’re one of the bravest people I know. Pisces I I wish we’d had less distance between us. You were my favorite mentor, the most perfect work mom I could have asked for. I’ve missed your smile and your laugh for a long time. I’m sorry that I didn’t come visit more when I still had the chance. Pisces II The brightest person I know, please never let the darkness take over. I know it’s there, and I know it’s hard, but you shine so beautifully. Thank you for keeping me on the ground when I was flying off of the world itself. You always gave me the best of yourself, made the best of our time together.