#happy birthday erika my love 💞💞💞 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosesloveletters · 3 years ago

Text

Happy 25th Birthday, Erika🎂

@ajokeformur-ray

HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAY WISHES FOR YOU, SIS🥳🎉🎁 I got started on this gift package super early because I wanted to make it as special for you as possible and in order to do that, I needed more than just a couple of days to work on this. You deserve so much more from me, but please take this kind offering as just a fraction of how special you are to me and how much of a positive impact you’ve had on me and on the world, just by you being a part of it. You deserve nothing but the best of things on your special day and, so help me, if you don’t get everything you deserve (anything and everything good) then the universe and I are gonna share some not nice words.

I hope you enjoy this gift package, dearest sister💖 if there is anything more than I can do or make for you, please don’t hesitate to ask for it! Also, if there’s anything in here that you don’t like or would like for me to change or redo, then please let me know and I can make you something else~ I am sending you all my love, today and all days. Take care of yourself, sis, and have the best birthday ever! I wish I was there to hug you, but I’m certainly going to make up for that in October! When you get here, you can expect to receive all of the hugs you deserve💖💖💖 there is also going to be a part two to this because I can’t fit it all in one post this time, so I’ll tag you in part two as well💞💌

here we go:

A Handwritten Birthday Letter to My Sister🍰

hopefully you can read my writing - I write in a combination of cursive and printing + writing left handed on an iPad is hard af. i’m sorry it’s not ✨fancy✨ I tried for you, dear sister💞

A Handwritten Letter from Several of my F/Os

Lion specifically asked to write you a letter. He loves birthdays; he’s so excited because celebrating makes him feel like a kid and because he’s got an unhealthy obsession with cake. I apologize in advance for the joke he wrote at the bottom. I think he is out of material for now…

Don’t worry, I screened Tony’s before I posted this. I asked him to write you a birthday letter before I considered the possibilities of what I might receive back from him. He promised to be good and I think he was for the most part; he’s still Tony without a doubt, though the flamingo stationary is a nice touch.

I knew Linus would have a few sweet things to say to you on your special day! I can always count on him to deliver a kind-hearted message that is full of love. He’s one of the sweetest guys I know and I’m so happy he wanted to wish you a happy birthday.

Let Me Tell You // Henry Jekyll (Father) & Daughter Erika // word count: 2,961

Summary: You’ve been feeling disconnected from your Father for far too long and it has left a lasting effect on both of you. Henry Jekyll explores the side of his mind he does not often visit, delving into what fatherhood means to him, how deeply he loves his daughter, Erika, and his hopes for your shared future.

His life began at 38. His entire sense of being, at last, had purpose at 38.

The accolades, whether they were tangible or abstract, taking the form of grandiose words — words which were a token of authentic love and achievement, that became hollowed-out, meaningless flattery in comparison to the essence of what mattered the most to him: her.

He had been trapped within his own existence for far too long and that had been his safe space, as tragic a tale as it was for him to tell any other soul than the ones he trusted to keep it to themselves. It was almost the same as having had the red carpet rolled out for him and each time he tread upon that sacred pathway, he moved as though he had done so a dozen times before. He thought he had known himself, even though he spent each waking hour trying with all his might to uncover some hidden truth about himself, to free himself from the invisible shackles he wore day in and day out. He was chained to the life he had created for himself, when all he wanted to do was spend it with those he loved and not to fret over what he could not control.

He was not himself and perhaps he did not know what it had felt like, for comparison, if he ever had been. All his life he had dedicated his entire craft to freeing the better parts of him from the worst ones so that he felt free; he never wanted the same for her.

He was still going his own way, but now the once deadly serious game he played by himself didn't seem all that serious anymore. Not when he had her by his side. He wasn’t alone now and he could feel her presence within his own. He was within her as well, carried out with careful detail and precision and grown and cultivated as if his best qualities were like vines in the garden of her own existence. He had a hand in that, after all; she was his greatest, most treasured creation, his own flesh and blood: his daughter.

Her. The one who shook up his life just the right amount and he welcomed that, to have his mind gently pushed off course occasionally, knowing she was right there to take hold of his hand not let him fall back down into the darkness and the inexplainable. She made sense and gave his life purpose again. The only other person to have ever done that for him was Mary. He had learned much from her, ever the analyst and eager to soak up all knowledge offered to him like his brain was a sponge, and in turn she had given him the most beautiful, intelligent, gifted child he only ever dreamed of having. His Erika was far greater than any of his wildest imaginings could have presented her to be; having her by his side was something he held close to his heart. As he watched her grow from a small child into the strong woman he saw before him now, he realized how much of his world was so vastly unexplored and unrehearsed, even for a man his age who had waited somewhat longer than most to build his family. It had been the right time for him, for Mary. There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but the words terrified him. It was all a father like him could do to be certain his child would turn out to be nothing like him. All his life he had been trying to free himself from himself; he did not want her to follow in his footsteps and work her life away doing the same as he. Perhaps he was doing wrong by her and not being open enough or explaining the strain in their relationship. He wanted to see the good parts of himself reflected in her, not the bad. Not the turbulent disarray he often found himself in at times, when all he knew to do was barricade himself inside of his workspace and not come out until the feeling had passed, or the horrific sensation of wanting to peel off one’s own skin.

He knew how similar your personality and appearance favored the other side of him; he wanted to know his contributions too, to visualize them within you, yet he did not want to see you suffer the same mistakes as he had.

He needed to speak his truth, but instead he kept himself closed off and distanced from the one person he thought might understand him perhaps even better than his Mary did.

He often imagined himself in the dead of night, with his Erika sleeping next to him, leaning in to whisper into your chestnut auburn hair, the waves of which resembled that of Hyde, but the color…that was all him.

He whispered the words straight from his heart. Words that then became sentences which formed his truth. This was the fresh start he had longed for. Finally, he was given a clean slate and realized all the things that had been missing from his life. This miserable life had meaning after all and it only took him 38 years to come to that conclusion. He had Mary and he had you; that was more than enough.

Only too soon did he awaken and realize it was all just a dream, a figment of the reality he had created for himself, but for how long? He had manifested it all into existence somehow, hadn’t he? Or had it been there all along, waiting for him, like fate had aligned. He did not know how to communicate to you that he wanted more from your relationship than simply studying together or quiet, idle conversation when you would pass by him in the hall or catch him on the staircase on his or your way to the library. He wanted you to know that he was there and that he could be there as much as your Mama and your Papa were, even if sometimes your work and his studies pulled you away from each other from time to time. The same blood ran in your veins as did in his; it should have come easier than this.

You had all of his best qualities, it was true, and he could not have been happier for that. Relief swelled within his heart that you had not inherited the bad with the good, but even if you had done, he would have loved you all the same. Every bit of you was good to him and he never would have changed a thing about you. You were a hard worker, like him and like your Mama. You always strived to be better than you ever had been before and sometimes he wished you did not have that same drive for personal improvement because he worried, oh, he worried but that was only because of how much he cared. He was in awe of what you had accomplished in such a short amount of time and how diligently you obeyed your personal boundaries and disciplined yourself somehow much more positively than he had done for himself. He admired how you had taken his best qualities and improved upon them. You were a refined version of all three of your parents and he could barely keep himself contained out of excitement to see how well you might do yet. You still had much of your life left to live and therefore you had even more to grow and to learn and to experience and all he wanted was to grow and to learn and to experience it all alongside you. He desired the same for his child and for your life as any father would and he would rather die trying than forget to show you that side of him.

He would do what he must and if that meant stepping outside of his comfort zone a bit, then so be it. Nothing was worth more to him than you.

***

You settled in on your bed after a busy day, and your Father reclined against a handful of pillows propped up against the headboard; the way he laid there made it look so comfy and inviting. The world seemed to shimmer in a golden glow somehow every time he was near and it was the same as knowing that everything would be alright; you were ready for this next adventure.

Things had been up in the air for some time now and you had been doing your best to reach out to him withoutreaching out, if that was the proper way to put it. You and your Father had a way of communicating that not many others did. The two of you had a secret language you could not speak with anyone else and even though you said nothing, you were heard loud and clear. You missed him. Your heart ached from where he had pulled his apart from yours and you were saddened by how distant he seemed these days. You were unsure what had caused this or if perhaps you were merely imagining it, but no. You knew your father; He had pulled away, hadn’t he?

"Here," he said to you now with a smile, his hand stretched out in a welcoming gesture, "you can lie here if you want."

He reached behind himself and held out a pillow for you, "You can use this."

He laid the pillow up against the headboard to the left of him and patted on it for you to lie down beside him.

Without hesitation, you climbed up beside him and draped a blanket over your legs as you snuggled into him. He had been quiet for some time before and now as his private thoughts seemed to lose priority, he gently put an arm around your shoulders and guided your body to bend in against his; a small act of endearment that said so much and to which you felt nothing but gratitude and love for him. Usually, you and your Father would not have moments like this one and it reminded you of how lost you seemed to be without him.

In those few short minutes, you became aware of how out of sync our breathing was. It was not something you’d given any thought to before and you fully immersed yourself in the feeling of your head slowly rising and falling with his breath. He was a faster breather than you were, only on your first exhale when he was on his second inhale, and that seemingly trivial realization struck something within you: it was not your breathing that was out of sync, but yourselves. Your entire lives had been out of sync for far too long for it not to have been concerning to you.

Life sure was something unpredictable.

You could not find the words you needed and your throat began to tighten. You should’ve been able to tell him how you were feeling, but it never got that far; your Father had not let it. He knew his Erika and without missing a beat, he finally, with heart-wrenching emotion and calculated accuracy, began to tell you what you’d needed to hear for months.

“I am never far away, Erika,” he whispered to you in the same voice he used when he dreamt about this very moment, “I know you think that I am, but I want you to know that I have never left you and that I never will.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest as you processed his words and let them sink in and wash over you like a tidal wave of hope, your fingers beginning to twitch and your skin prickling with a new warmth that spreads outward from the very depths of your soul where his words have touched, “I know that, Father. But things have been…strained between us. I know you feel it too.”

“Of course I do,” he nodded thoughtfully as he continued, “and I’ve thought on it night and day, how to remedy it. What I once thought needed to be mended was never truly broken, only it needs to be refined.”

“What are you saying?” you asked him, the words on the tip of your tongue and he looked at you then, his eyes conveying the truth which you came to so quickly on your own: you know what it is without him having to say it aloud. You always knew what he was trying to say before he ever had to say it.

“We need something that is just for us,” you spoke with finality, a statement rather than a question. You had spent all your time with Father just studying as though there was nothing else for you to explore together, working on your own projects in your own respective spaces, untouched by the other yet working alongside each other, together and not together, all at once. It was enough to drive the average person crazy, but not either of you. You both valued any shared time together, however, it seemed almost as if this was no longer enough to satisfy you both. You sought after the same sort of connection you had with your Papa to translate into one of your own with your Father. You both were needing that now more than ever, not because you feared any lack of connection, but because should all of this be stripped away, what might be left for the two of you? You craved your Father’s love in more ways than the one you both had nurtured for all this time. Now, you needed him differently. Your studies were not enough, it seemed, but your love for him always was. You would find a thing for just the two of you, a way to reach the other, a gateway into each other’s lives that couldn’t be shut, lest the other close the door; knowing the both of you, neither ever would.

Now, your studies had ended for the time being and you felt as though you had been left with nothing to keep the bond with your Father strengthened. The truth of the matter was just that: untrue. Nothing had changed between you and your Father, yet now you had to rely on your own communication to bring you both together once more. You and he could find time for the other now in ways beyond imagination for they were no longer just the idea of something and were unfolding in real time.

That was it and it was the beginning of a new era. You were unsure what it was that the two of you needed now, but you would find it. The first step was acknowledging what was missing and the rest would fall into place because you knew that neither you nor your Father would rest until you were securely intertwined within each other’s lives once more, just the way it had always been.

“I was afraid you might think the only way to my heart was through your studies,” he confessed, “but you must know, Erika, that you mustn’t try so hard for my acknowledgement. If I do not say it enough to you, and I apologize for that, but I want you to know how much I love you, whether you continue your studies or not. I will always be here for you. Communication has never been my strong suit, as you know quite well, but hear me now: I love you, my sweet daughter, with all the pieces of my heart.”

That might have been the most your father had said to you in a long time and you had needed to hear every word. It made perfect sense to you that your Father was looking for other ways to spend time with you because he wanted to be a part of every bit of you, not just the parts you had in common. He existed in all of you and wanted to share in it with you as much as he was able.

It was but a start, a beautiful beginning to the rest of your lives together and your Father would do anything he could to be a part of what was left to come. He had born witness to the astounding woman you were growing into and he was not going to miss a thing; he was in your life for the better and for the worse, the good days and the bad, just as he was for Mary. He had a family to be a part of and he would never walk away from that, even if it meant the worst.

It never would, mind you. Nothing bad would ever come of you or yours, so long as your Father (and your Papa) had anything to say about it.

You looked at him and shifted over a bit, offering more space to him, but he shook his head with a smile, "I'm beyond comfortable," he assured you, "I love to have you this near."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

A contented hum escaped him as you settled in against his arm once more and he suddenly produced a rather large book from the other side of him. He had kept it out of sight until the right moment and now he propped it against his knees, opening to a page he had ear-marked for such an occasion, ready to explore what new chapters awaited the two of you.

“Since we both agreed upon finding something that is just for us,” he began, “let us start with this.”

Love is Not Blind // Arthur Fleck x Erika // word count: 1,548

Summary: Your mind is a cruel weapon, often used against yourself, and your fears that you and Arthur are no longer compatible are the bullets; Arthur’s consistency within your life reminds you that those fears, as haunting as they may be, are only able to torment you as much as you let them. Love is in the eye of the beholder and the two of you are more in love than two people have ever been before you.

"Arthur..." your voice was soft as you whispered his name into the darkness. A deep desire for him to be near again, to make you whole again, gripped you and refused to let go. The harder you fought to be released from its powerful grasp, the tighter it became. Mere hours had passed since you last saw him, but the stretch of time had worn you thin and it wasn’t only that. Saying his name helped you picture the two of you together, as if uttering the two-syllable moniker for the man you most loved made it possible to visualize yourself beside him.

It seemed silly to think, after all this time you had spent together, that your worst fears might be true. They were not, of course, but your mind was too weary and exhausted to make heads or tails of how you were currently feeling on the matter. All that was for certain was the feeling itself. You did not like the tricks your fragile mind attempted to play upon itself. Under normal circumstances, you would have had the strength to fight them off, but you were far too drained to see the forest for the trees and the fear plagued you, coursing through your veins and rooting itself deep in your mind.

"Yes?"

You jumped at his response, the same response you had heard a hundred times before, but as unexpected as it had been in this moment was still enough to electrify your insides and make your pulse begin to race, your heart beating heavily inside your chest.

"Did you need me, sweetheart?" he asked while taking a step closer, closer, until he was standing beside you.

He cupped both his hands around yours as you reached out for him. His fingertips against your skin felt like a shot of electric current straight into your heart; a promise without words that everything was going to be alright, that he wasn't going anywhere. He could read your thoughts and the pained expression on your face betrayed you. Arthur knew exactly what you were thinking and he frowned. He was far from angry with you, never would he ever have any reason for that.

He hummed quietly as he observed your hands in his. His own hands were large, yet thin; made perfectly to fit against yours. When you were not with him and he missed you to the point where it became excruciating, your hands were often the first thing that came to mind. Your skin was soft despite the vigorous cleaning you often did and the toll certain products took on your flesh, but it was evident you took care of yourself.

It pleased Arthur to know how well you looked after yourself and he hoped for that same tender love and care for your mind as well as your body. He often admired your haircare routine and how regimented you were about caring for the beautiful, flowing mane that reached nearly to your tailbone. Your mental health deserved just as much love and attention and, if it was the very last thing he would ever do, Arthur was going to make certain that it was cared for just the same.

"I’ve always needed you.”

You reached out and gently grabbed the heel of his hand. Your thumb pressed into his palm, circling it a few times and the gesture made him smile as he enlaced your fingers to hold you still for a moment.

The way his hand held yours were a confession: I am in love with you.

You were inextricably entwined within one another — figuratively and spiritually; a more powerful sentiment than soulmates — that was just scratching the surface — this went far beyond that. Not just the “missing part of one another's souls" but something far greater and neither you nor he had the proper words for what you were experiencing. All you could do was live the life together that you were given and make sense of it as best you could without wasting a single second. You were in the here and now; nothing else mattered except him.

Your fears were unrecognizable in his presence and you took every opportunity to savor it. The burden which typically weighed you down was no more than a footnote in the storybook of your life.

The mere sight of him made you want to live forever and that was something you did not often think about. What you truly wanted was not to be left alone, but only by him. You wanted to be yourself for once, hiding in plain sight, but only he would have the ability to see you. You had taken a gamble and let fate be in charge. You were mentally, physically and spiritually exhausted from the burdens you carried on your shoulders each day from the time you rose from your comfortable bed until you laid your head back onto your pillow at night and so you did not currently have the strength to free yourself from the fears that constricted you from feeling as you once had. If only for a little while, Arthur would be the one to carry your heavy burden; his presence afforded you the break you so desperately craved and deserved more than no other and even though you despised putting it all onto him, he accepted it with kindness and reverence as he let you sink into a peaceful state of bliss and relaxation.

Captured in his warm embrace, you gave a relieved sigh, knowing you were complete again. How often had you laid awake at night, worried to death that there had been some sort of mistake? You did not feel like you and your Arthur were compatible in the slightest, yet each time you found yourself here, the feeling quickly subsided until you were alone again and then those thoughts that you fought so brutally each and every waking hour would come back to you at full force.

You clung to him, fearful that if you should let go those thoughts might come back even while he was still there, threatening to destroy the life you had built with and for each other so very long ago. It did not seem like it had been that long since you had met, but reflecting back on it now made it seem farther away than you last remembered. You were determined to find a way to cope with it all, even if it meant explaining to the love of your life how you felt and that might be the singlehandedly most difficult thing you had ever considered doing, but what else was there if you did not have each other to rely on, in times of both weakness and in strength?

Even still, it was not something you had to verbally communicate; Arthur knew you better than anyone who had come before him and whoever would be there after him. He understood that your mind liked to play cruel tricks on you and make you hyper-aware of your reality in a warped way, how your fears were driven only by your own desire to live up to expectations put forth by others who had no right to have ever treated you the way they had done in the past.

You wanted to be the best version of yourself that you could be and while Arthur admired that about you, he wanted you to know that there was no better version of you than the one which had fallen in love with him. He loved you both in the best of times and in the worst and if that meant that he had to quell these natural fears from time to time, then he would. He always would; you could rely on him never to leave you behind, forget you, or take advantage of the love you shared.

There might have been differences between the two of you and there was nothing unusual about that by any means. No two souls were exactly alike and that was the rationality of it all, however, that had no bearing on how compatible you both were. You did not have to be twin flames to fall in love, nor did you have to be identical to one another. You both were uniquely your own and that was what pulled you both to the other. Sometimes, life just got in the way and brought two people together, even though neither of them knew exactly why. You both had experienced so much within your individual lives and there was nothing that the two of you needed now more than each other.

You were different, that was true, but you were still one in the same because your hearts burned for the other as no one’s but lovers’ do. Arthur meant something to you that no one else could say was true for them and that was the beauty of it; you both meant more to each other than you had ever meant to yourselves and the love was there, even if sometimes it was hard to see.

‘Love is blind’ is the saying most often used, but love wasn't blind.

Love was right there in front of you; he was yours and you were his — the end.

The smaller gifts can be found in a follow-up post to this one, so stay tuned for part two!

#౨ৎ::made with love::౨ৎ

0 notes