#he would teach her to be emotionally responsible and also naturally thwart her running away by… being able to teleport as well

[teeth-draws]

I’m ashamed at the difference in art style Liefred anyone would think you’re my favourite /// @shepherds-of-haven

Ohhh but he used to think nothing of it…

Torturing my fav RO again from @shepherds-of-haven

[allmymisters]

You Say Tomato.

When people are together a long time, you pick up on so many things from each other. From how you leave the toilet paper, to how they like their eggs cooked, to what their tells are when they lie. I can confidently say, we knew each other better than anyone knew us...or did we? Was it just a facade, that because we were together so long we thought we knew our ins and outs? I'm not sure, maybe one day we will have that conversation. Maybe one day, we will have the biggest conversation of our lives.

You had been playing with Lisa for a while. It was exciting for you to be playing with different musicians who were doing different genres of music. I always told you that was what New York was for. This was the city of limitless possibilities, but if you don't get out there, nobody will know who you are. There was no doubt of your talents and you were finally getting to the "pro" status you wanted to be in. I wanted to believe that all that work we did when we lived there was to further our creativity, to further our future.

 Lisa picked you up for the gig like she did for any other gig in Brooklyn around 4 or 5 pm.  I felt that every time you played somewhere, because you were the drummer, it was always more work getting your gear and probably because there was more of it. You had a rehearsal spot in Williamsburg on Roebling St. and there is where you taught the drum lessons. You had been teaching drums since I met you, before then even, and I always saw you, a patient and nurturing teacher. You had this ability to explain things that made them less complex. Every time you built a flight case or tinkered on a motorcycle, I went away with more knowledge than I had expected. I suppose you're the reason I'm such a gear head sometimes.

You saw teaching as a means to an end. This is what you did to pay your bills. I think New York was harder for you than for me. I never expected her to just give me things, she gave me a lot of rocks, but I'm the one who worked to build something out of them. You, you seemed thwarted at every turn. Completely dissatisfied at where you were in your career and what you were trying to do, but then you started playing with real musicians and I felt the tide finally started to turn for you and I was excited. You called on a Sunday.

"Hey." "Hey." "Look, this is stupid, I want this to work!" "Ok?" "What are we doing?" "I don't know, I mean you need to decide what you want. That's what it comes down to." "Well, I want us. I want to work this out. I'm coming home next week. Fuck this, I gotta finish up some things here and then I'm moving back home." "Ok."

I don't know. Maybe I was so unenthusiastic because I had become so used to your inner conflictual nature. I knew you were weighing all the pros and cons. I knew that I didn't want you to be unhappy, but I wanted you to also fight and I felt lately you weren't fighting. So I put the ball in your court and had basically given up. I wasn't going to be the person who took what you loved most away, even if it wasn't me. I did however want you to make the decision whether to stay or go because I knew where I wanted to be. There were so many frustrating conversations in those few months. So many things, I wanted, you wanted, but we never found the right way to say them.

You came to me one weekend before and wanted to have a serious conversation. I've seen you stressed before, but never crazed. You had revealed to me that you had severe OCD and that it had been going on since childhood. "I do about 50 things a day, just to function. My parents don't even know," you admitted to me. I honestly was in shock because I never once suspected anything. "Yeah, think about when we leave the house or I come home, I always squeeze my keys three times before opening the door among other things." I knew you had a hard time making decisions, but I never noticed any type of OCD behavior. I think you were handling a lot at that time and I was trying to be supportive. I told you to go speak to someone, but as all things in your life, you had to tell your parents first. They made the decision to make an appointment with their doctor. The next thing I know, you are on anti-depressants. You didn't need anti-depressants. All you needed was some good old fashioned therapy. I think you feared being nuts and I think you felt weak to have to seek out such help. It didn't matter that I had an opinion, it only mattered that the hole was patched up...quickly.

The week before you told me you would be coming home to join me, you were complaining about not feeling well and having headaches. I told you to just rest that it was probably stress. I also told you to go to the doctor, but I knew you were waiting to be put on my health insurance when you came home. I thought maybe it was you adjusting to the anti-depressants. I couldn't be bothered with it, I was so angry with you and was dealing with my own stresses, that I didn't really pay much attention to how you were feeling. For the first time in my life, I was thinking of my own life and where I wanted to be. You had been talking to friends regularly and I'm sure there were copious amount of advice, but I pushed you to seek them out because I couldn't be that person anymore, I was tired. Emotionally spent from the constant back and forth of you struggling. I had to be my own rock for once and I think that devastated you.

"I remember he made a phone call to his Mom there in the van while we were settling to leave.  He was talking about getting certain screws for a project he was doing?  It sounded peculiar and funny for some reason.  He was being very detailed oriented…over screws.  Then his mom must have asked about how he was feeling.  His response was “better” and some mention of him being dizzier earlier in the day.  I really didn’t think much of this at the time though it was kind of strange.  I mean we get dizzy or a weird pain now and then in our chest and it goes away.  Looking back this makes sense.  The clot/tissue must have been traveling earlier in the day and made him dizzy at a point, then passed on to a new location in the brain.  "  -- Lisa Bianco, Musician

You were on your way to a gig in New Jersey. You sat in the passenger seat next to Lisa, while she drove towards the Verrazono bridge, your other bandmate, Fab sat in the back. As you approached the Victory Boulevard exit on the Staten Island Expressway, you abruptly said, "Guys, I need to go to the hospital. My hands are cramping." You had your hands under your thighs to keep them straight. Lisa had her thoughts on what could be happening, but she knew something was wrong. She thought maybe an allergy from something you ate. She also thought that maybe it was a reaction to the new anti-depressants you were on. They called an ambulance, which you rejected, due to not having health insurance. Although the ambulance was on the way, they did as you wished, and headed to a hospital. 

Lisa was apt in this type of situation. She was rational and she knew you well enough to read your distress. As you all arrived at Staten Island University Hospital, the cramping had subsided and you were able to walk in with them. Someone started to take your vitals. She said you had a look of "disbelief". I knew what look she was talking about. I had seen it before, when people died suddenly or the day we sat outside the coffee shop and I gave you the ultimatum. Lisa had told the person taking your vitals that you were not drunk or on drugs and she wanted to make sure they knew that, being a musician and all. Something seemed unnatural about you, even though you were capable of making a phone call. You called your mother. She asked questions and then Lisa took the phone to describe what had happened up to that point. Here's the thing about ER/Hospital like situations, if you're body isn't almost severed from your head, nobody gives a shit. I've walked out of an emergency room before because nobody would listen to how much pain I was in. So you all sat there, in the waiting room, and eventually to the ER beds. While waiting there for sometime, something started happening to your speech. When Lisa asked you what you had for lunch you said, "Tomato...tomato...tomato." It would not go any further, you couldn't describe anything else about your lunch and you couldn't have a normal conversation at this point.

Lisa knew that things were amiss. She knew you weren't acting "normal". You were only 34, what could possibly cause such a sudden medical eruption in you. Surely this was some weird reaction, surely you would be just fine once they examined you. As you tried to answer the RN's questions, a look of confusion shone on your face. Of course, like any good medical facility, at that moment, they handed you the forms to make sure they'd get paid for fixing you. And like a good bandmate and friend, Fab tore them up, he knew you didn't have the mental capacity to read the legalese that laid in front of you and I would have done the same.

In all that confusion, Lisa thought it would be best to take responsibility for knowing what was your status. She felt that if any tests were to be run, she wanted to make sure she could be a contact to relay information from. The show must go on. Your bandmates decided to leave you at the hospital and would come retrieve you after the gig. She figured you'd be there waiting for them after the few hours they were gone, but you never answered the call.

"He had a seizure," the doctor said. Lisa thought it was strange because you didn't look like you had a seizure she had seen before. She just accepted what they told her and why wouldn't she, these were doctors. She proceeded to find a landline and called your mother to report what had happened. 

I got the call on Tuesday morning. 328 miles away. There you laid. Eyes closed. Oxygen. Squirming. Sweating. Clammy. Adorning a hospital gown. There I laid. Asleep. Eyes shut. Breathing peacefully. Coolness of the sheets atop of me. Awaiting tomorrow. It made me mad that I wasn't warned. No black raven visited my dreams. No Spideysense tingled. No flickering lights from beyond . No "in case of emergency" call. I wasn't even on the list. For the first time in our lives together, I truly felt disconnected, but when I finally saw you lying there I felt every single invisible word you said.