#even before i knew The Truth about elias i still didnt really like him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azozzoni · 6 years ago

Note

Can you do a follow up to that Elia getting kicked out fic with filippo coming over and finding out what happened and marti and nico seeing them together for the first time

Elia turned his phone over in his hands as he sat on Niccolò’s couch, not really watching the TV, not really listening to Martino and Nico in the kitchen making dinner. He felt numb, as if his life was happening to someone else.

Filippo’s last messages lingered on his phone, increasingly concerned when he hadn’t replied to the shirtless selfie. Elia didn’t know what to tell him, didn’t know how to explain this. He could barely tell Martino and Niccolò.

All Elia had managed to text back was that he’d had a fight with his dad and had gone to Nico’s house. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the whole truth either.

As Elia sat on the couch, lost in his own thoughts, trying not to think about what he was supposed to do next, where he was supposed to go, how he was supposed to get through this, the door buzzer rang and Niccolò came out from the kitchen. He tossed a glance to Elia, a reassuring smile that Elia didn’t really feel, tucking his phone away as Nico opened the door.

“Filo,” Niccolò said, and Elia’s head shot up, craning to look down the hall to the front door.

“Elia said he was here,” he heard Filippo say, and he realized as Filippo came down the hall, turning to find him on the couch, that Filippo didn’t know that both Martino and Niccolò knew. They’d agreed not to tell anyone for a while, so why would Filippo show up here unannounced?

“Eli,” Filippo said as he caught sight of him, and Elia dropped his gaze, somehow embarrassed. He didn’t want Filippo to see him like this, the bruise forming under his eye, red and purple. He didn’t want Filippo to know how weak he was. “Your beautiful face.”

Pushing himself up, Elia took a deep breath, steadying the emotions welling up inside him. “What are you doing here?” He nodded at Niccolò as he said it, watching Filippo pause a second, as though considering the question.

“I can read between the lines,” Filippo replied, stepping over to the couch, ignoring Martino emerging from the kitchen. “And from the look of this bruise, I’d say it was more than a regular fight.”

Elia flinched as Filippo’s thumb brushed over his cheek, the twinge of pain. He’d been hit before, but this one seemed to hurt much worse than any other.

“Filo,” he started to say, to explain something or make an excuse about how this wasn’t a big deal somehow, but Filippo didn’t let him, pulling him into a tight hug instead.

Elia couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, not because of Filippo’s arms around him, not because his chest was pressed to Filo’s. He couldn’t breathe as he felt the warmth of Filippo enveloping him, the soft scent of his lemon soap lingering on his skin, and Elia let out a shaky breath as he felt the first prick of tears in his eyes.

He hadn’t cried all day, not when his dad was yelling at him, not when he’d threatened to send him away, not when he’d slammed the door behind him. He hadn’t felt anything on the way to Nico’s or even with Martino sitting next to him, telling him things would be okay.

But now he couldn’t stop the tears from gathering in his eyes, and he raised his arms, winding around Filippo’s waist as he buried his face in Filo’s shoulder.

He didn’t care that Martino and Niccolò were probably watching. No one was speaking, and Elia tried to concentrate on Filippo’s breathing, slow and steady, trying to match it as the weight of the day pressed down on him.

It seemed like an age until Filippo moved back, brushing away the wetness at the corners of Elia’s eyes, eyes darting over his face as though checking that he was okay. Elia wasn’t quite sure what the feeling was welling up inside him, maybe gratefulness, maybe something else. He and Filo hadn’t exactly defined what they were doing. Hooking up, sure, but Elia wasn’t sure beyond that.

“What happened?” Filippo asked, and Elia looked away.

Martino and Niccolò stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching silently. Martino nodded reassuringly when Elia met his gaze.

Elia took a breath, looking back at Filippo’s concerned face. “My dad saw that picture you sent.”

Filippo’s face fell as understanding flitted across it. “Shit. Elia, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elia assured him. He should have been more careful with his phone, not left it lying around where his dad could see it. “He would have found out eventually.”

Elia didn’t know if that was true since he hadn’t planned on telling his dad about Filippo, about liking guys at all, but he didn’t want Filippo to think he was responsible for any of this.

Filippo sighed, hands coming to Elia’s neck. “Do you need somewhere to stay? You can always stay with me.”

Elia hadn’t expected that, and he felt a smile appear. “Thanks, but I’m gonna stay with Marti,” he said, and Filippo nodded.

“Probably a better idea. Don’t want you to fail all your classes.”

Elia couldn’t quite laugh, but he nodded as Filippo tilted his face up. Something was changing, he could feel it, between them, but he wasn’t sure what. It felt different, though, as Filippo leaned in and kissed him, in front of Martino, in front of Niccolò, like he didn’t care at all.

“You’re gonna call me if you need anything,” Filippo said when he pulled away, and Elia felt himself nodding, letting out a breath, feeling better for the first time in hours.

“So, are you staying for dinner?” Niccolò asked a minute later, glancing at Martino. “I made plenty.”

“I supervised,” Martino assured them, and Filippo laughed, reaching for Elia’s hand and squeezing gently.

It was still surprising, something new, but Elia liked it. It made him feel safe somehow.

“I’ll stay,” Filippo said, smiling when Elia met his gaze. He’d stay.

#skamit #skam italia #skamit fic #elippo #my fic

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christophersymes · 5 years ago

Text

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

<– Previous / Next –>

Chapter Four

A month later, Jules had been down for a while. His depression was in full swing, with a baseball bat full of nails, directly in his face. He'd hardly even made it to class that day, let alone online, and hadn't even gone to work yet and felt like crying. It was taking a lot to do anything, and he felt awful because he wanted to talk to Not-Elías so bad, but couldn't think of words to say aside from

good afternoon

. And he'd hardly spoken yesterday or the day before either. He hated it.

Mason had been hearing less and less from Jules the past few days, even though he'd been sending an embarrassing amount of messages. Jules did message back most times, but when she did she was curt and sounded... off.

masonfucker1000: jules

masonfucker1000: hope ur days going okay

masonfucker1000: hey what if humans were like bees and we had smth like a fucking stinger and if we killed someone w it we died and it was the only legal way to murder

masonfucker1000: i was hanging out w some friends and we ended up playing nerf guns and i somehow got a foam bullet down my pants

familyjules: ah, the only other thing you've ever gotten down ur pants.

masonfucker1000: hey are you okay? im kinda getting worried

masonfucker1000: if someone else threw a salad at you ill kick em

familyjules: afternoon, not-elías.

masonfucker1000: afternoon!! FINALLY!! juliet hath emerged! hey what's been going on???

♦️

Juliet.

He called him Juliet.

Jules froze, staring at the message, feeling tears pricking at his eyes. He hadn't told him, no, but still... He was Jules. Jullian. Anything except Juliet.

He stared at it, then grumbled to himself. "Juliet. Not. Fucking. Juliet." He got out of the truck and slammed the door, angry now that he even had to go to work. He stood by his truck, still staring at the message, then accidentally threw his phone on the concrete in the parking lot and stomped on it.

Then he realized what he'd done. Fuck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. God damn it! Whatever." He picked up the pieces and pocketed the SIM card, telling himself he'd just buy a new one tonight after work and ship it to his house. He was enough of a dumbass already.

He tossed them in the dumpster as he went inside.

Mason frowned when there was no reply. An hour passed, even. Nothing.

A day.

masonfucker1000: jules? are you okay?

Jules was still upset, and still had no fucking phone.

Two days.

masonfucker1000: jules, please if i did something just talk to me

And a day after that, he was still upset, but at least he had a phone.

Three. Jules had never gone three days without at least a half-assed two word message.

Whenever he was home, he just stared at the message, fuming. Not-Elías had called him Juliet. He had to know him somehow, then, and by his deadname.

On the third day, the anger got bad enough he ended up messaging.

familyjules: how the fuck do you know my name and why are you doing this

Mason had been having lunch with the band when he got the message. He dropped his slice of pizza, mouth still open in shock. His eyes widened, and he excused himself, muttering under his breath that he'd be right back.

masonfucker1000: shit dude, what? juliet?

masonfucker1000: I just sort of guessed that's what it was short for

masonfucker1000: what do you mean???

Jules scoffed, opening Rabbit as fast as he could and sending Not-Elías a link.

As soon as he entered the room, Jules glared at the camera.

"My goddamn name is not Juliet, so stop calling me that. I don't know who the fuck you are, but you must know me and want to get to me now for some reason, so just... fucking stop being a dick—"

Mason gaped at Jules as she immediately started yelling and threatening at him. Jesus fuck.

"—and tell me the truth before I have to figure it out myself and beat your fucking ass. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be led on some goose chase and deal with bigots like you or deal with people who hold some stupid grudge against me. Leave me alone if that's the fucking case, or I will figure shit out and do something."

Not-Elias: jules geez

Not-Elias: holy shit

Not-Elias: i dont understand why youre so angry but im sorry if i pissed you off okay?

Not-Elias: i wont call u that anymore

Not-Elias: message me when you've calmed down

Not-Elias left the room.

Jules was still angry when he left the room. He ended up closing it too, only to reopen it later that night, as well as the fansite. He private messaged Not-Elías a link, promising in some garbled text not to yell again.

familyjules: rabb.it/familyjules pls cone ib i promize not to yellll i midd u

familyjules: misa u

Mason had been thinking about.... whatever that had been with Jules. She'd called him a bigot and talked about grudges. And Juliet was a definite no. He had a theory he was a bit too freaked to think much on. He frowned when he got a just barely comprehensible message. God, was Jules crying or something? He immediately clicked the link.

Jules was leaning back in the chair, pouring himself a shot from the bottle of vodka, singing a Nosam song along with the YouTube video. "Not-Elías!" he exclaimed, speech a little slurred, grinning. He leaned forward too fast and spilled half the shot on his shirt. "Whoops."

He downed the rest to prevent more spillage and then took a sip of Coke. "Hi, I wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier and yelling at you because it's obvious you're not anyone from high school because you're good unlike them. They couldn't even fake it. And I wanted to explain— I'm trans and I was bullied, and I miss you a lot but I've been sad a lot lately and it's cold and cold is triggering and I'm gonna drink more now." He poured himself another shot.

Mason's eyes widened in surprise at the state Jules was in. And then he was concerned. Very concerned.

Not-Elias: is that vodka?

Not-Elias: careful!

And then he froze as Jules spoke. Trans.

Fuck. So, okay. Mason didn't know himself that well after all. That's fine. It was okay. He tried to convince himself of that even if he felt a little nauseous and increasingly out of control.

He'd been such a dick when he was younger. Defensive, reckless, disrespectful, not caring about anyone else and keeping emotions bottled in. He had pretended to be confident, created a version of himself for everyone else and believed it. And once he'd been called out by so many, by Chris, he'd realized what he'd turned into: this sexist, queer-phobic prick, like a jock straight out of a movie.

He worked so hard to figure out why and relearn how he thought about things, about people, thinking about things he said to make sure he wasn't hurting anybody. He spent so much time learning himself inside and out. Actually starting to like himself for once, no more surprises. And even if his chest was aching and he couldn't breathe from hearing Jules say that, he knew he liked Jules a lot. He knew he had to deal with it.

He wasn't straight.

But he didn't know what to think— his own secrecy had been different— but— of course they weren't dating, and online— and Mason couldn't possibly pretend he knew what being trans was like. Whatever reason Jules had had for not telling him was probably a good one, even though it hurt. Mason realized he hadn't responded, and frankly didn't know how.

Not-Elias: okay

Not-Elias: youve def been drinking too much

Not-Elias: jules

Not-Elias: why didnt you tell me?

Mason paused, biting his lip. He didn't want to sound mad, but he was kind of upset. And he deserved to know why, didn't he?

Jules knocked back the shot, then leaned forward to read his messages. "I said I was bullied... They did some online too and I'm super scared about the fansite being a lot of people who could gang up on me sometimes—" Jules's lip trembled a little and he shook his head and touok a deep breath. No crying in front of Not-Elías.

"I was scared when I started thinking more and liking you, 'cause you were new and different and I was having fun talking to you, but you said you were cis and straight and it was actually real hard to even tell you I'm bi. And it's okay if you don't like me now cause you're straight and I'm a dude, I understand that."

Mason frowned at how Jules looked close to tears, instantly angry at everyone who'd hurt her— who'd hurt him.

His stomach turned as he thought about all the times he misgendered him. Oh God, he suddenly felt really sick. All of those shes and hers crawling up his throat.

Not-Elias: oh jules

Not-Elias: no i

Not-Elias: i like you

He bit his lip. Get over it, Mason.

Not-Elias: i guess i'm just gay. go figure

Jules wiped at his face with his shirt, then remembered there was vodka all over it and pouted a little, staring down at it.

Whoa, there was a flash. Mason's breath caught. He definitely saw a nipple and— fuck. But, oh God, was Jules drunk.

Not-Elias: listen do me a favor, baby, no more shots, yeah?

Not-Elias: put the vodka away

Yes, it felt a little weird calling Jules baby for a moment, knowing he was a guy, but it still felt right. Mason was fucking gay.

Oh, poor Andrew. All alone.

Jules read the messages and wanted to cry even more. He felt so silly for hiding it for so long, especially if it was going like this. "Are you sure?" he asked, staring at the messages.

And then the few about the vodka came through and he pouted, though he was blushing a bit at being called baby again. "But I don't wanna. Tomorrow's my day off and drinking is fun!" He grabbed the bottle, cradling it against his chest. "'S like my baby."

Not-Elias: im sure

Not-Elias: a hundred percent

Not-Elias: even if youre a complete mess

Not-Elias: and you've drunk

Not-Elias: youre drunk

Not-Elias: too much more and youll be poisoned

Not-Elias: ill be your baby instead

Jules grinned, leaning forward. His leg was bouncing now. He set down the bottle. "All right," he said. "But you're my baby now. You gotta come hug me."

Not-Elias: nice okay thank you

Not-Elias: u should drink water if you can

Not-Elias: oh i want to. i will

Mason hated this, not being able to talk to Jules. Especially when he was in this state. He needed comfort, and Mason wanted to give it and— damn it, he wished he could just turn on his camera. Maybe he should. He seriously considered it and— no, not right now, when he was drunk.

Jules tuned into the music again and gasped, grinning. He sang along a little, nodding and getting up to get water like he was told, completely forgetting he was in just a tank top and underwear— not even boxers, just underwear. He came back still singing, then lifted the water so Not-Elías could see it. "Water."

Mason whined a bit as Jules stood up, looking away a second later, staring at the tour bus ceiling. Why did the world want to be so generous yet so cruel?

Not-Elias: and you said you're not a singer

Not-Elias: good! drink up!

Jules grinned, taking a drink and leaning back a little in his chair. "Oh—uh— is there anything you want to listen to? Or watch?"

Not-Elias: uhhhhhh

Not-Elias: spongebob?

Jules nodded, opening up Amazon Prime and attempting to search for it. He misspelled it a few times, but got it in the end. "Oh, this is the best episode," Jules said, grinning and hovering over the Bubble Bowl episode.

They watched one and a half episodes, during which Jules had moved from the chair to his bed, putting the laptop on the chair. Mason honestly wasn't paying all that much attention to Spongebob. Jules was so cute, his drunk commentary endearing.

At some point Mason realized Jules had fallen asleep. He smiled, eyes going soft.

He barely thought about it when he turned on the mic.

"Goodnight, Jules."

Jules, fast asleep, groaned a little. "G'night," he mumbled. "Lub you."

Mason's heart jumped to his throat.

"Jules? Are you awake?"

He blushed hard, cheeks hot. He probably wouldn't mention that part to Jules in the morning.

"Nuh uh," Jules hummed, pulling the blanket over himself better. "'m sleep."

Mason laughed lightly. "Really? Sleeptalker, huh? I'll let you sleep. Talk to you in the morning."

Mason had turned off his mic and hadn't even noticed he had fallen asleep.

"Mason? Why're you still on your computer? S' the middle of the night."

Mason jerked awake, blinking as he looked at Jules on-screen and then at Chris on the top bunk across, leaning over the bed and frowning at him sleepily.

Mason sighed, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. "I think I'm gonna tell Jules," he said.

"What?" Austin grumbled from below Chris, turning and blinking wildly at Mason. His wavy hair was sticking up in all directions, like static or that kid from Meet The Robinsons.

"He said he's gonna tell Jules," Andrew growled from above Mason, grumpy from being woken up, but listening, blankets tugged tight over his otherwise naked body.

Chris supported his chin on his hand as he tried to get a better look at Mason's face. He was serious. "What changed finally?"

Mason sighed, panic returning as his brain turned the lights back on and told him he was supposed to be freaking out. "It keeps getting harder. And we didn't talk for a bit and— last night— tonight he— he's trans. And he was drunk— "

"Wait— "

"Did you say— "

Mason groaned, dropping his face into his pillow. "Don't--"

Andrew wheezed from above him. "Fuck."

"You're— "

"I get to say it! You dumbasses got to come out," Mason whined as he sat up. "I'm not straight. Probably, uh, pan."

Austin started laughing sleepily as he leaned up on his elbow to properly make fun of Mason.

"I saw it coming," Andrew mumbled. "But fuck you."

Chris bit his lip worriedly. "Okay, but remember when that one fan gave out your number and address even though the address was fake, but you had to change your number and— "

Mason sighed loudly. "Yes, I remember."

And he did remember. He'd thought about it quite a bit, all the worst case scenarios. Jules being pissed off at being royally catfished and outting him to the world in the worst way possible, or Jules being way too happy and outting him and not really caring about him, or Jules just completely cutting him off in shock and outrage. Mason shook the thoughts away. "Jules isn't like that. I just— I want her— him to know, I'm sick of lying."

Austin shrugged. "Okay. Your choice, man. Go for it."

Andrew hummed in agreement, giving the idea a thumbs up that Mason didn't even see, already falling asleep again. Chris sighed and smiled, "I'm sure you're right. You're a good judge of character."

Mason smiled, "Thanks."

In the morning, Jules woke up to find he'd fallen asleep on Rabbit with Not-Elias. He smiled, nuzzling his face against the pillow. He was so cute. So good. He remembered getting drunk and telling him everything, and he'd taken it in stride, just accepting...

He sighed, staring at the icon of Mason on the screen. He wished he knew him. This was just making him want to date him more, though he knew his own rules and didn't want to break them. It felt kinda shitty to feel like that, though, especially since Jules wanted to just... live, really, but it felt like there was always something holding him back. He wiped at his eyes, realizing he was crying a little. God, he was so pathetic.

Mason woke up again to see that Jules was awake. He smiled, then noticed he seemed kinda sad. Mason got up, washing his face and brushing his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment. Well, he looked as good as he usually did, he guessed. He guessed? Fuck. He was nervous. He groaned and put on a hoodie, yawning as he walked past the bunks and sat down, putting his earphones in.

Not-Elias: good morning! how're you feeling?

Jules jumped a little at the message tone, wiping his eyes again to make sure any trace of tears was gone. He disguised it as sleepy rubbing his eyes and smiled. "Morning, Not-Elias. I feel..." Jules considered telling the truth, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He settled on one thing. "Hungover. Kinda tired. My head hurts a little. How are you feeling?"

Not-Elias: a little flipped upside down, honestly

Not-Elias: but uh, overall, pretty good

Not-Elias: okay, actually im a little nervous

Not-Elias: hey

Not-Elias: do u know what would be cool

Not-Elias: u should play me some bass

Jules smiled. "I'm glad you're feeling okay, though. I mean— What happened is... a lot, probably. If you need to talk, I'm here. And you really want to hear me play right now? I— uh— okay." He leaned over, picking up his bass from the stand by his bed.

"I wonder if I can play it laying down." He plucked a few strings, then shifted his hands to play it. He laughed a little. "I guess I can... God, you have no idea how many times I've dropped this thing. I'm shocked it still plays." He lifted it up, grinning.

Mason smiled, watching him fondly as he grabbed the bass and played around with it, rambling and laughing. What was he even going to say? 'Hi, I'm not Elias, I'm Not-Elias, with a dash' or 'I'm Not-Elias, AKA Mason Hill AKA masonfucker1000 AKA an asshole?' or even 'Hey, it's Mason, please don't be mad at me or post about this?'.

God, everything he could think of was woefully lame. It was like his nerves had turned him into Chris.

"There's actually a really bad scratch somewhere on here, I think it's on the back... I dropped it when I first got it because my parents told me some shit, I don't even remember what, but it scared me. Oh— oh, I think it was when my grandpa died. They told me and I just... dropped it. It's funny now, because like... y'know, that was my grandpa, but— "

Mason couldn't take it any longer. He moved the mouse, cursor hovering over the camera icon. It seemed easier to do it when Jules was occupied, it made Mason less nervous than when he was looking at the screen. He turned his mic on first, then his camera, smiling. "Uh, hey," he said softly to get his attention. Hey wasn't exactly what he had wanted to say first, but fuck it. His heart was thumping in his ears.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt stories #trans stories #lgbt writers #celebritystatus

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recordiling · 8 years ago

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Monday 7th of March, 2017 (reflecting on the 6th)

yesterday, the 6th, was a different kind of feeling. i worked at our diner, as i currently am now as well, and i took the medication, as i just did at around 2:45PM. i am not sure if it’s the best idea. while working yesterday morning, the medication had its peak as i was in the social dance class and as i was in the car with mom, arguing quite a bit with alex and elias in the back seat. then it slowly began to come to that crash after about an hour of working. i love the peak of it. the peak brings out the best while the crash brings out the worst. the true happiness and the true sadness about my life in it’s true reality.

i kept working, waiting to leave; i was anxious and sad, i didn’t even feel good about the idea of seeing andy anymore. nothing felt good, nothing felt right. i need change sometimes, because too much of anything makes me feel so worried to my stomach. i’ve been figuring myself out lately, as well as the parts of the world i’ve been able to observe my whole life (but never properly did.) so one thing that is clear to me is that a lack of a dynamic personal life makes me feel pathetic. partially because it is realistically dumb in my opinion, and also because that is what my parents have subconsciously instilled in me. and i don’t mind it, because without this feeling, i can’t guarantee i would ever REALLY examine myself the way i do, and that’s the way i get rid of the bad habits and other things.

anyway, Victoria ended up calling me minutes after i sat pondering about my anxiety. i picked up, and lately i had not been answering my phone too often. not in a spiteful way at all. i just get worried to find out what she needs from me, for certain reasons. i’m glad i did pick up. it ended up helping me a whole lot. i definitely missed a lot of things that i forgot about for a while, and all the ways me her and andy were last night were like as if the best parts of our friendship were picked out and exaggerated. all the good energy helped me stop focusing on my scary thoughts, but only at some points. most of the time i feel like i am battling with my own brain and body, trying to stop the pain, think happy thoughts, but the pain is so real to me. that is why i love people, i cherish people more than anything else. it has always been that way, even when i believe i should meet new people. the ones from my past continue to matter, and when i remember them there is always that distinct energy with the string of thoughts each person carries. victoria passed by tamer’s to pick up her makeup, then we drove around some more in her cute lil blue chevy and went to starbucks, then passed by chase so she could cash some checks.

my house was clean, my room a bit rearranged, all because of this medication and my strong desire for a home that i genuinely enjoy being in. i’m in love with intimacy of home and life and love, family and friends, friends that are family, and absolute comfort in your surroundings….

nobody was home when me, victoria and andy got there, so we got to sit in my room and talk for a majority of the time. i really loved it. even when i’d walk out of the room, andy and victoria continued talking and they just both seemed in exceptionally good states of mind. nothing makes me happier than that. that’s what we feed off of in life: energy. that’s why when i get to sit close with people i am close with, i wish we could just sit there for hours and hours, just talking and talking. with no sense of time, no need to rush. sure in the back of my mind, where there are always those harsh truths, i doubt many things about this blissfulness. the idea that i may rely on these ideas to be happy. ideas that are temporary in some senses. as an example, the idea of victoria and andy talking and enjoying things makes me feel so comfortable, yet at the same time i know how victoria is simply a good talker and that she could switch at any second. that we have had our ups and downs and always will. that she has done things that she will never realize were hurtful to me. but those temporary things will always diminish, at least i hope.

after some time of talking, discussing random things and sharing a laugh or two (like about me peeing every 5 minutes) victoria said she really wanted to see that moderately new movie, Split, and i had Post Malone playing on the Firestick that Andy gave me, so i went to switch that movie on. but a couple seconds later i left the room and we ended up deciding not to watch it, cause i suggested we should watch it later on, since i just wanted to talk. well, we never did, because we ended up going to Applebee’s so that victoria could meet with robin for the first time in a while. andy let me drive, as he has (almost) always trusted me to do, which i have felt honored about for a while. andy and i sat separate from robin and victoria so that they could just catch up with each other.

i felt very depressed. devastated at many points. i expressed this to andy at one point, and he said he felt it from me. i told him how i just want to be productive. he agreed. andy had been on his phone on and off for the majority of that period of time, which i had confronted him about solely to make a point that if i did the same, he would not be okay with it. i personally did not mind, because i understood.

anyway, we ended up discussing this among other things after talking to rob (the waiter/practically our friend) about something he mentioned that i can’t remember at the moment. he also said he thinks he sees us more than his own family, which was funny. —- andy and i had that discussion, though, which i had at first felt was an argument but slowly began to understand better. i wouldn’t be surprised if someone calculated all our “arguments” and discovered a total of hundreds or thousands. it’s all based off this cycle we have recently come to recognize, which has been the most helpful and relieving thing ever. still, there are things we simply get annoyed about that have no deeper explanation. and that is just how it will be for now. while andy and i sat and talked at the hellen keller parking lot, victoria was still with robin in the applebees parking lot, so we waited. it was a couple hours of us just discussing things further. him explaining to me that he doesn’t say the things he says because he expects me to change or is attempting to change me. he simply expresses how he feels about the things i do. i have learned to be a better listener from this, because the unraveling of all our miscommunications have taught me many lessons about life. i am so thankful for him. and so glad i never let him go when i was convinced of it and vis versa. finally, at the end of that night, victoria arrived outside my house around the same time as andy and i. i was a tad bit upset, only because i felt like i did not get to finish talking about my part of andy and i’s discussion, and andy said he notices that i often do not feel the closure that he does after the conversations we have. i said that was because i don’t get out my side of things, and it is also probably because i don’t understand everything about myself yet. nothing is definite at this point in my life, but it is a moment of transition. i anticipate that it will be a very great outcome, but that idea is also partially supported by this medication, which i believe is currently reaching its peak as i type this sentence. victoria ended up sitting in the car, though i had originally wanted to go sit in my room because i thought my parents would be mad. they didnt end up saying anything about it when victoria and i ended up going in at around 1:05AM, which was good. she’s always rushing to leave, but that’s just victoria. we did talk a whole lot, and andy said some nice things, and victoria said some nice things. at the same time, though, it was not “nice” because it was all about the core of our being and why we love the way we do, or rather, why we have issues in loving the “correct” way. this conversation began because of me, because before victoria entered the car, andy was trying to say to me that i convince myself there is this “correct” way of loving, which i understood. but it did not fix anything for me. because i know that my moods in love are not normal, as i have explained to him on many occasions. victoria talked about tamer, her brother, and other slightly upsetting things. and basically, what sticks out to me the most among all of it is that we are still growing. we have had this pain to carry, as victoria said, all three of us in that car have had our own shit to carry with us. and i will love when i am ready. i will be when i am ready. andy knew this, and expressed that he never intends to rush me. he simply just states these things to bring it to my attention. which i appreciate. but it is tough, because me and victoria alike have things that we really have instilled in our beings due to bad past experiences. mine being less clear than hers, but also less definite and less traumatic. still i am constantly wondering, have i been blessed or cursed? some things are my fault, but a lot seems to be one unfortunate misunderstanding on top of another. i still love what i am given, and my love for my family and friends is passionate and eternal. i hurt for them, and i keep on moving. for them. i hope to find myself soon.

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