#heart frozen in hell's winter: alter!childe

[mcuntainbcrn]

@aquxtic-hxrbingcr​

The bitter chill never reached her, nor slowed her barefeet as she trekked through the snowy tundra - how she had happened to find herself in such a place was a mystery to her, but bringing herself to care...that was another story; she knew she should...she had to make sure they were destroyed, so no one would be made to suffer the same fate she had...but she was tired.

Perhaps this unprompted interlude would be for the best, allow her weary mind a moment of reprieve - thanks to the icy, treacherous terrain, she had yet to encounter or see another soul that even resembled anything akin to a human being...it was nice; granted, many of the flora and fauna she did cross paths with were unknown to her but she didn’t mourn it, instead adding on to her walking arsenal as she went.

It was too good to last forever, of course - another day she had dared to venture out of the cavern she’d carved for herself to go foraging for even more species, to see if she would encounter anything as formidable and strange as those that appeared to have a sentience of their own, firing projectiles and darting in and out of the frozen soil.

The icy wind never touched her, making the discarded fabric she’d wound around her shoulders billowing out behind her as she padded along quietly, giving a light nod to the wild deer and boar that occasionally crossed her path - they seemed to know she would bring them no harm, as did the local birds; the peace that seemed to reign gave way all at once, in the form of a sudden cacophony of sound.

Someone had gotten close, and quickly, and she continued forward, skin staining rapidly as she drew in a lungful of the frozen air before exhaling slowly, feeling her body coming undone, forming into the roiling black cloud that darted into the hardpacked soil.

[wishingstarinajar]

Kill or Be Killed (snippet)

A thick droplet of sweat ran along the curved line of his jaw. Bony fingers clutched the front of his tight shirt. His toothy grin twitched at the edges, hidden beyond an eternally grinning mask. Eyelight flickered persistently against the brightness he was staring at.

It was time to go.

The portal awaited like a beast’s maw with jagged teeth, showing nothing but a white void beyond the shredded edges framed by multiple tiny ones and zeros. He came to learn that those numbers were his universe’s coding, still a strange concept to process and one he didn’t fully understand. At this very moment, he didn’t wish to linger on what it all truly meant.

What he did know was that his home was damaged beyond recognition, perhaps beyond saving; there was hardly anything left of it, corruption had permanently erased or altered all and everyone he knew. But the fact he still had some hope to find a solution and stop the corruption festering in this world was the very reason why he stood before the portal. Just a snip with his massive scissor-like weapon and there was a way out; it was as simple as that. Leaving, however, was not.

It was time to go, Sans told himself. He had told himself this far too many times but it lessened when he finally took the first step. He still needed to urge himself. What if he can never come back to this place, his home?

No. No, he thought about this for way too long. Papyrus is with him, that’s all that matters. There was nothing else here that kept him, not anymore...

He clenched his socket shut as he pressed on, through the rift he’d created and away from all he knew. What would it be like on the other side? He had no idea; he never dared to peek his head through during previous testing attempts to create stable portals. A gasp left him when solid ground simply disappeared after he stepped forward, his feet sinking away into a crisping softness before he became aware of the chill. Snow. His socket snapped open to gaze at the knee-high powdery snow he stood in, at first standing like frozen until he dared to wiggle a foot before trying the other. Damn, it felt like forever ago since last he saw and felt snow, including the cold of winter. The corruption had overtaken Snowdin Forest so damn quickly through the many RESETs. He didn’t think he’d miss it until it all was gone. But if he’s standing in snow at this very moment, then—

Sans searchingly patted his chest upon the realization that the journey through the portal was a success, panicked and haphazardly checking if Papyrus was still with him.

Did he make it through??

Calling forth the projection of a heart-shaped anomaly kept hidden in his ribcage, Sans breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a familiar monster soul pinging into existence above his held-out hand. The right side of the orange-hued soul was fragmented and in a permanent state of dusting. Tiny particles moved slowly like dust in a ray of sunlight falling through an attic window, fading in and out in an eternal dance of life and death.

It was his brother’s soul… The one he managed to salvage before dust would take it completely after the poor monster was ruthlessly assaulted by that damn demon child. The soul was damaged beyond healing but oddly enough unaffected by the RESETs that followed Papyrus’ final death; it has been in Sans’ possession ever since. Aside from the red scarf wrapped around Sans’ neck, this was all he had left of his dear younger brother and without it, this whole quest would be for naught.

Speaking of which…

The broken soul was returned to its hiding place after Sans’ worries were stilled, his single eyelight wandering to take in the surroundings. A snowy forest, not a hint of corruption in sight. No glitching, no void spaces. It’s like… before everything went to shit.

Wait, did he go through another RESET? No, no, that can’t be! That’s not how the portal is supposed to work!

He clutched for his face, fingers wrapping around the elastic broad strap he wore around his skull and his pinky hooking behind the mask hiding his grimace, the look of horror simmering down after he nearly succumbed to searing disbelief and rising anger. He hadn’t changed in the slightest, still wearing the same clothes as before he stepped through the rift; this was no RESET, thank fuck, so where exactly did he end up?

Glancing around, the first thing he noticed was the loss of the portal’s bright yellow-hued glow behind him, the binary coding and gaping hole gone. The way back home had closed during his panic session and he wasn’t certain if that was a good or a bad thing. He stretched his arm and extended his hand to summon the ridiculously oversized scissors he had made the portal with, but no magic responded to his calling and no weapon materialized.

Shit.

It seems the cooldown on the scissors he aptly nicknamed ShortCUT was no joke or a miscalculation. How long does it last again, an hour or two? Damn it, he should have tested it more before he decided to leave. Well, no point in getting frustrated and he’s sure as hell not going to sit here for an hour and do nothing.

Hoisting himself out of the snow, the eyepatch-wearing Sans ventured further into the forest with the hope to find anything familiar. The trail he followed was untouched, not a single footprint defiling the fresh snow aside from the ones he left behind. He dared to say the surroundings felt incredibly familiar but the hole he came across was an obvious difference.

Lingering by the edge, Sans peered down into the dug pit that was once tied off by barricade tape, the snapped long strips of white and red fluttering weakly in the breeze. Although a thick blanket of snow covered the bottom of the pit, pointy ends of sharpened sticks pierced through the white, indicating it was once upon a time a very dangerous trap. One careless trip down and you’d be dust.

What madmonster would place a trap like this?

And that wasn’t the only kind of spiky trap he came across after Sans continued on. There were several more along the trail, most out of commission and warned about by the same bright tape or crudely painted and crafted warning signs. Why the energy poured into taping things off or creating signs wasn’t used to remove the traps was beyond Sans but one thing was for sure; this wasn’t home anymore, or at least not a timeline he’s familiar with.

The flashes of red and white tape amidst the monochrome surroundings no longer caught his eye but when more red appeared up ahead and seemed to come closer, Sans’ attention and curiosity were piqued. Someone was approaching.

-To be continued-

=======================================

I figured I'd share the first two pages of a short story I've slowly been working on. It's about Rewind and his very first venture into the multiverse. (He's is called Sans in this short story because he doesn't take on the Rewind alias until later.)

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to share this small preview xD but it's a small glimpse into Rewind's story and I hope that whoever reads it will enjoy it.

[melodiouswhite]

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde rewritten - Ch. 31

31. A date with a little demon

Utterson wasn't surprised, when Hyde came to him with a twig of hawthorn and a nutmeg geranium.

“Since Jekyll got to have a rendezvous with you, I think it's only fair that I should have the same pleasure”, he justified his floral proposal.

He said it with that seductive purr, which made the lawyer blush intensely.

But he had his doubts.

Hyde seemed to notice and frowned. “What? Does the prospect of going out with me repulse you?”

Awkwardly, the lawyer scratched his head. “Oh no! It's just … is there something we could do, that we both enjoy? If we do something I like, you will be bored. If we do one of your usual activities, I will be uncomfortable.”

The brunette laughed: “Oh, I know! But don't worry, good man. I have got a plan. And I know you will enjoy it just as much as I will.”

The young man seemed to be very sure of himself. Then again, he was Jekyll's alter ego. Surely, he knew him just as well.

“Alright. When and where?”

Hyde smirked triumphantly.

Utterson couldn't believe that he was here again.

Standing in front of the door to Jekyll's old lab, waiting for Edward Hyde to arrive.

Oh well.

The lawyer wasn't dressed up like on his date with Jekyll. Hyde had let him known that they wouldn't do anything formal. That had made the black-haired man suspicious, but the brunette had promised him that they wouldn't go anywhere shady.

It was already eight pm. Pretty late, which confused the lawyer a bit. What could they possibly do at this time that wasn't shady and didn't bore Hyde at the same time?

Finally the door opened and Hyde emerged from the inside, wearing a wool coat and carrying a bag under his arm. He grinned from ear to ear at the sight of the lawyer waiting for him.

They said their good evenings, then Hyde dragged the taller man along and ran into the street.

The black-haired man gaped, when a coach came around the corner, with a very familiar driver on the seat.

“How did you persuade the Lady to lend you her coach?!”, he asked incredulously.

Hyde just grinned smugly and didn't answer.

“I already know where it's going”, Mr. O'Connor told Hyde, who nodded in satisfaction.

He let Utterson get in first, which was … certainly gentlemanly of him?

The ride wasn't that long.

The lawyer almost burst into laughter, when he got out of the coach to find that they had stopped at Hyde Park of all places.

Looks like we're at his true natural habitat …

The eponymous brunette glared at him. “If you're about to make one of your bad puns, spare me.”

He apologised, caught red-handed and followed the other into the park.

What did Hyde want here?

It was around half past eight, so they would have about 3½  hours until the park closed at midnight. And it was a cold winter night.

There were little to no people here and only the lambs and the moonlight illuminated the park.

It had snowed in the last three days and so everything was covered in white.

A beautiful sight, he had to admit.

But surely that wasn't something that could impress Edward Hyde, was it?

Before he could ponder further, the young man lead him to one of the ponds and pulled him towards a bench.

Hyde brushed some of the snow off the bench, then pushed the lawyer onto it.

“Mr. Hyde, what-?”

“Shush! Just look up to the sky and enjoy the view!”

So Utterson did just that. To his surprise, the sky was clear and full of stars. The moon was full and illuminated the frozen pond and the snow covered trees around it. The snow and ice seemed to sparkle in the moonlight and the sight was just …

“Wow!!!”

“Pretty, isn't it?”, Hyde asked and beamed at him from the side. He looked like a marvelling child and that looked so endearing, that the lawyer's heart melted like butter.

“It's marvellous”, he breathed, “I've never seen anything like it!”

Hyde laughed: “It was always there, Mr. Utterson! You just didn't bother to stop and take a closer look!”

Utterson chuckled. “No, I suppose I didn't.”

They fell silent and took the magnificent sight in.

The lawyer thought that, if he had any artistic or poetic talent (which he didn't), he would have turned this moment into a work of art.

“You know”, he said to Hyde, “This is a scenery I would dance in – if I could actually dance”, he added awkwardly.

The smaller man looked at him incredulously. “You can't dance?!” Then he cackled: “You're telling me you went through boarding school, college and university, without learning how to dance?!”

Utterson had to grin: “Believe it or not, yes. I wasn't comfortable with the thought of dancing with someone back then, so I did everything to avoid dancing lessons. It came back to bite me later, of course. So I don't go to events, where I would have to dance.”

Hyde grinned back. “I'll teach you how to dance, then. Starting right now.”

“He-here?! In the park?! In the late evening?!”

“Why, you said that this is a scenery you would dance in, didn't you? Now get up!”

And so it came that a flustered Gabriel John Utterson had his first actual dancing lesson in a park, with Edward Hyde of all people, next to a frozen pond.

He never could have imagined, that the little rogue would give him the most romantic evening of his life?

Eventually they had to stop and leave. Both of them were cold, it was close to midnight and the park would close soon.

Lady Summers' coachman, who seemed to have waited the entire time (poor bloke), drove them away and dropped them off at the back door of Jekyll's house.

After the hansom had left, the atmosphere suddenly became tense between the two men.

“So …”, Utterson spoke awkwardly, “Thank you for the evening, Mr. Hyde. I really enjoyed it.”

Hyde grinned broadly.

“Heh. I knew you'd like it”, he bragged, but his cheeks flushed a little. Hardly visible in the pale moonlight, but there. Together with his grin it looked kind of adorable. In a goofy way.

That was so unlike him, that Utterson had to take a double take. He just about managed to, before the light blush vanished and Hyde was back to his ghostly pale self.

“You certainly did”, he admitted and blushed. “I … you really took me by surprise. It was … quiet, soothing and beautiful. I never would have expected that from you.”

The brunette giggled: “Well, I'm full of surprises, good man! I told you I would find something we both would enjoy!”

suddenly a particularly cold gust of wind blew into the yard and Hyde shuddered from the cold. He grinned and turned to the back door.

“Well, it's time to go to inside and into a warm bed. For you too. We don't want you to catch a cold, do we? Good night, Mr. Utterson.”

“Wait!”

Hyde turned back to him. “Hm?”

The lawyer blushed harder. “I … I just wanted to say …” But words failed him.

The younger looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

For a few minutes Utterson could only stutter and Hyde was getting visibly impatient.

Finally the black-haired lawyer resorted to action rather than words.

He took one of Hyde's gloved hands and kissed it without further ado.

“Thank you for the wonderful evening, Edward”, he said shyly.

Now it was Hyde's turn to blush and stutter.

Then finally, he stammered a hasty goodbye and ran inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

Utterson remained standing there for a moment, stunned.

Then he smiled and went back home.

Knowing that something magical had happened again.

Hyde darted into the old lab, threw his coat and scarf away and slumped down a wall.

His head was a mess and he didn't like it. There were so many questions!

Why had the lawyer kissed his hand?

Why had he felt the way he had, when they had sat at the pond together, watching the stars?

Why had his heart raced, when they had danced?

Why had Utterson smiled at him like that and why had he liked it?

Why was he still blushing and why was his heart still beating up to his throat?!

All these questions were more than Hyde's mind could handle.

“Shit”, he groaned and ruffled his hair.

After a while, he had calmed down a bit and his face had turned back to its original colour. But he was still struggling with an inner turmoil.

He hated the flood of emotion he was suddenly bombarded with.

He was Edward Hyde, for Devil's sake! He was vicious, cold, calculating and selfish to the core. He didn't blush and get flustered like a lovesick schoolboy! Where the hell did all these new feelings come from?!

And why did he love and hate it at the same time?!

Hyde was just hopelessly lost and confused.

He loathed the mess this evening had turned him into.

But there was something he loved about this. He didn't know why, but there was a feeling of joy inside him.

Hyde never felt real joy. The sadistic thrill of hurting someone, the rush of doing something dangerous or risky, sure.

But not this kind of joy.

He felt warm on the inside and oddly at peace.

This was more real than anything he had ever felt and it was so … invigorating!

It was almost like happiness!

Somehow this made him smile.

Then he remembered something and his cheeks turned pink again.

Edward … he called me Edward.

[zeebartels]

First & most importantly –

All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions – DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey

Zain – for being my hospital Saviour and just my favourite Pakistani ever! Chad – for trying your best to lie to the parents when KB ask the 2 questions you weren’t allowed to answer truthfully – that is what cousins are for. KB – you are my heroin and without knowing it guided me through this – WWKBD!

Elisha + Nico – for being the best big Sister + Brother a girl could need. There are no words to express how much I love you and appreciate you. Sis! looks like I will live to meet yuh man and you are the best secret keeper.

And, The NHS for existing [you can take all the National Insurance you want from me], King’s College Hospital & my multi-disciplinary team of docs for being absolute stars and sorting me out real quick.

So… it’s been a fucking mad end of this year.

I hate this time of year, it’s never felt happy or joyous and honestly I just see the loneliness in the world in this ‘festive’ season, and now compounded by the loss of my father on Boxing Day 2013 – this time of year I’m always thinking – where is the highest mountain or deepest hidey hole I can find until this is all over. But I think this year has taken the cake!

So I had this cough since end of July, no biggie – it’s a cough.

In October, I was inexplicably breathless speed walking to the boarding gate in Amsterdam with Court.

November 19th, I had the craziest fever – trying to sleep, laying naked in my living room with my windows and sliding doors open in the middle of winter and I still felt I was in Trinidad in midday hot sun.

Chaddy boy came over the next day and seeing I couldn’t say one word without having to catch my breath – emergency doctor’s appointment became mandatory. Now I am the worst patien if I can walk and not screaming in pain – I good, dancer habits die hard. So you know shit was real at this point.

Doc Wedgwood tells me to go directly to A&E 1st thing in the morning, She means – DO NOT pass go, DO NOT collect £200 [which would have been damn handy seeing I just quit my 2nd job for the year on Halloween – that’s another story though].

Of course, I was like “listen, give me some drugs so I stop this violent coughing business and could breathe cause I have a job interview tomorrow that not only do I really want to go to but shit! I need to be able to pay rent in 2018 and there is nothing that will make me move from the best flat in the world.”

We had a bit of a back and forth and this woman was not playing but no chest infection is going to affect my plan. Cue – an interview reschedule and I head to King’s College Hospital bright and early the next morning.

Give some blood and x-ray my chest. Then @ 8:50am the lovely good looking Isiah made everything a little more concerning. He asked me to stick around and started asking me a bunch of questions and after trying to be slick, I got him to eventually admit to me that, “My Chest X-ray is concerning, and I need to go to my GP 1st thing tomorrow to discuss the results”

Fuck me! So not a straightforward​ chest x-ray, not a simple case of a really bad chest infection. But you know I’m on a mission, cause I can’t tell my mother I quit another job this year without having sorted another, so I have interviews to get my ass too​.

Fast Forward to that afternoon, and my Doc Wedgwood left 2 voicemails and emailed me about my early morning results appointment – slight panic set in, so I called in the reinforcements for this appointment – enter Nicholai from Stage Right.

So much changed in a couple sentences that Wednesday morning.

“Your chest x-ray isn’t good. We have to do more tests to fully diagnose, but it’s 1 of 3 things –

Lung cancer [WTF?!?!], Lymphoma [this woman crazy!?!?] or Sarcoidosis [I know she crazy cause only people on House or Greys’ Anatomy have that, and those are TV shows].

Your heart rate is 160 – it’s working too hard and your lymph nodes are inflamed around 400%”

If Nico didn’t say respond – I woulda tell you – that was the most vivid dream I ever had. My Big Brother [as he introduced himself to Doc Wedgwood] asked the sensible questions. I said – how the hell do I tell my mother & sister?!!?

The Bartels Soldier surfaced [I am the child of KB – the Original Gangster] and I needed to make a plan. I started my “I’m dying” folder in my Notes.

What needs doing…

What are the next steps to diagnosis?

Who needs to or should know?

Do I change my pension beneficiaries from my Godchildren​ to my mother and sister [the original plan of them being gone by the time I die may not be the same]?

If it’s a cancer – do I do the fucked up chemo thing or just make sure I enjoy the rest of my time?

Sweet! I lost 10lbs in 2 weeks and I didn’t even make an effort – this could definitely be a good thing!!

Who needs access to my business if shit goes downhill from here.

Answers…

Kings’ College Chest Clinic will call me with my next appointments and instructions

Nico [he was there], Elisha [she’s my person], Chaddy [he knows something is up]. KB + the rest will know when I know what is what

Diagnosis 1st then change beneficiaries if need be

Stage 1 – we will try ah ting & KB will have to come and mind her chile in London. Late Stage 2 and beyond – I’mma just ride this out and see what happens

I have 50lbs I need to lose and hate exercising so this is a real good thing & I’m going to ride this train as much as I can [so far -20lbs + counting in the last month]

Elisha – all of it. Nico – my hospital details.

  So here is what followed:

My symptoms got worse –

I can’t walk 1 flight of stairs without being winded, I have to plan all my journeys around tube stations that have escalators and leave enough time to catch my breath before I have to speak to someone. And keep those to a bare minimum

Talking too much is difficult – not a problem for me, I’m not the biggest fan of people

Eating is tiring and takes my breath away – so most things become blended, good thing I had a bunch of already made frozen soup

I have violent coughing episodes that make anyone in my vicinity think I’m dying from the plague – They just gonna have to deal with that

My ribs are sore from all the coughing, so inhaling is painful

No matter how much water I drink (we are talking 3-4 litres a day) I still wake up at least 4 times every night coughing because my throat is so dry

I started sleeping on top of towels so my bed doesn’t get soaked from my night sweats

I decided on a hospital uniform – my fav GAP grey sweatpants & large quilted super cosy GAP jumper & NikexLiberty Air Max 90’s

Another 3 blood tests – 1 of which I had to tell a very fass phlebotomist about herself and that I do not need a husband nor define myself by the presence of a man & I still don’t know my blood type

A CT Scan – Yes you really do feel like you’ve pee’d yourself in your swimsuit and that cosy warmth stays with you for a couple seconds

A result appointments that only said more tests to come – Doc Turner didn’t seem too​ impressed to hear about my “I’m Dying” folder and whatever other snarky comments I  made

A bronchoscopy – My body was not happy about the invasion and started bucking like I was possessed and thus a punctured lung (more Grey’s Anatomy​y drama), I woke up, or more specifically, regained memory whilst in mid sentence to the nurse.

A week later – I found a bunch of druggie selfies and pics of bloody liquids [I assume came from me], and videos of my canula removal – no memory performing these actions and I doubt the nurse used my phone.

A PET Scan – preceded by a semi breakdown in the waiting room, it kicked off because they go my appointment times wrong, I was real tired and it was my 2nd day of fasting for a procedure. So a very unhappy Zara came to visit shouting for my doctor and threatening to start breaking things led to a coughing episode and was completed by my pee-ing myself while I’m trying to cuss them about their time fuck up. Eventually – they made me radioactive and I went home to my bed.

Ended that day with my cancelling an interview, receiving confirmation of 2 different job offers coming to my inbox within the next couple day and a late evening voicemail from Doc Turner “It’s good news – all things considered. I’ll see you on Monday and we’ll discuss treatment and long-term”

Well thank fuck for that! At least I don’t have to inject my self with poison. I can deal with that – and I can tell KB.

Monday 18th December – Final results appointment + diagnosis =

CONGRATULATIONS!! You’re a winner!!!

You only have a rare autoimmune disease that we don’t know much about but we can give you mood altering weight gaining steroids for symptoms but not much else. We don’t know what causes it, your symptoms can disappear as quickly as they appeared and never reappear, or you could get lung damage. You’ll have to come to the hospital once a month for a full workup.

BTW – how are your eyes feeling? Tired? Warm? Cause this could affect your eyes and your brain too.

Sarcoidosis is now your long time companion.

Gee! Thanks Doc Turner – you’re my hero.

Everything was made right literally in one afternoon, an afternoon where I felt so shitty, couldn’t catch my breath, breathing was painful and my constant coughing made me want to die.

I get to call my mother and tell her – it kinda went like this

[Me -ZB] Hey KB, so I have something to tell you. I quit my job on Halloween… [KB] Oh Shit man Zara! That was 2 months ago [ZB] yeah but I just had 2 offer conversations with 2 companies & I’ll decide on one of them later today, so the job situ is in hand. [KB] mmm hmmm [ZB] Annnnddd, I was being tested for Lung Cancer, Lymphoma & Sarcoidosis, but I only have Sarcoidosis. The best of the 3. [KB] What you saying? [ZB] {Long version as above} [KB] OK, well good thing you there and not here. You are my special child. First it’s your special mouth disease [that is another story – missing some jaw bone]

Ma asked some really good questions and we lime for a lil while on the Skype.

Hardest part done – So now, we sort shit out.

The job is decided on, I’m now the Head of People for a Games Company.

New Meds –

Getting my steroids via inhaler – straight to the lungs, minimise the side effects of steroids in the blood. I know the steroids would have given me a real reason to be fat but the mood swing business, I wasn’t really in the mood for nah!

More Codeine = more constipation – so increase on the prunes and keep on with the greens.

True Story – I’ve been on some form of codeine for the last month – A couple weeks ago, I’m sitting on my toilet for 20 minutes, my legs are numb and I’m crying with frustration cause really I’m a 36 yr old constipated woman, and all I want is for this shit to no longer be a turtle and become a drowned log. I have a coughing episode and all that shit comes barrelling out! The biggest most literal F-ough (fart+cough) that ever existed!! 

So now it’s the road to getting right, I have to be a bridesmaid in Court’s wedding and I’ve got 3 months to be able to breathe while I walk down her aisle.

I’m thrilled that I don’t have to tell my mother + sister that I have cancer at the same time of year we found out and lost my father to cancer.

I get to be on a special list for people with Special Diseases. I call it “exotic”.

I’ll lose the next 30lbs probably without much annoying exercise simply because I have to cut out all inflammatory foods and my body seems to be on that trajectory, once the vaporise steroids don’t get in the way.

And I get to learn more about this odd disease and I won’t be receiving a ridiculous hospital bill.

Everyone is now caught up and I wish you all a brilliant year and all the good things.

2018 is setting up to be a smash hit! I’m pretty excited.

Walk good

xoxo.​

I am a patient on House + Greys’ Anatomy First & most importantly - All my love and thanks to my family, who know how much/little to check in on me and not ask too many/too few questions - DeeDee, Tins, Curtis, Manon, Chants, Casey…

[writingcommons-blog1]

“The Fine Line Between Love & Hate “ by Peyten L.

Toxicity. Self worth. Destruction. Forgiveness. Alteration. Judgement. Joy. Tears. You. I. Us. Love How did we become these words – at what point did these words start to become what I defined as love? 

Two years ago, if Sam had asked me to describe us, and what I felt for him I would’ve said something along the lines of how he made me feel like summer… warm, free, sun kissed, and enlightened in the sense that I finally felt like I had found where I belonged – with him. When we would sit on the cool blacktop on the peak of his steep driveway, in front of the sunflower yellow home where he once lived, and watch the sky fade away as night cast over the day, I would look into his deep blue eyes and know that what we had was real. 

I knew that I was loved and that I loved him. When I reflect on the conversations we had when I felt like we were the most us, the happiest, there’s one that I go back to every time.

He had said “time goes by too fast with you.”

And I had said “It always goes by too fast. It probably always will” “I’ll always have time for you though.”

“Pomise?”

“I promise”

I didn’t know that our time was limited, that it would go by that fast and this would be a promise that would be broken. It was the feeling of warmth, the open promises we made, the love that I know I felt that kept me going when we would fight or he would become something he wasn’t in the beginning. When we were summer, I was consumed by the thought of us and our future together. The idea of us became entangled into every thought I had, I thought it was normal. I wanted to spend every second with him. His house became my second home, his family like my own and vice versa. His family gave me a stocking at Christmas, took me on vacation, and even cried when I left for college. Our lives were completely intertwined in every aspect. I didn’t realize that letting him into every minuet detail of my life meant that each memory of that time would be tainted and leave a burning feeling in my mouth when I talked about them two years later.

We weren’t summer for long, or maybe I should say that he wasn’t. Autumn came. We didn’t sit outside and talk anymore, and when I peered into Sam’s eyes he didn’t smile like he used to. In the beginning, I’d catch him glancing down at me, not smiling ear to ear, but presenting a small grin that said what his words didn’t… “I’m happy, I love you, and I don’t want anyone else.” A while passed though and he didn’t look at me like I put the stars in the sky, and he definitely didn’t half smirk at me anymore. I knew he wasn’t as smitten as he once was.

“I love you Sam.”

“Why do you say that so much?”

He started replying with that more often, and each time it felt like I had been punched in the gut by the Hulk. I wondered if maybe I did say it too much, and that something was wrong with me because I wanted him to say it more. I felt needy and I started to wonder if most people in relationships feel needy, because why should I feel needy if I have everything I needed? If I laid my head on Sam’s chest his heart wouldn’t beat fast anymore, the butterflies had faded. When we were us, I learned how to drive with just my left hand so my right one could be placed in his.  

But he stopped calling me beautiful and stopped holding my hand in the car. I thought maybe it was supposed to be this way, the honeymoon phase is over, this is what normalcy is. I altered my way of love. I always thought that love was supposed to be something that consumed you at every minute of every day, love was supposed to make you so slap happy that you looked like a drunk person every time you lost yourself in the thought of the one you loved. But he made me think I was wrong, that we loved each other, but that we didn’t need to show it anymore.

Autumn was okay, But then his season turned. I looked into his blue eyes, and instead of losing myself in them the way someone loses themselves reading an epic novel, I lost myself in a way that made me feel like I was submerged under water floating right underneath the surface, but knowing that coming up for air was an impossible task to do. I would look at him just as I always had and he would ask me why I had such a staring problem or just ignore my eye contact. Despite his changes, I constantly did everything in my power to show him the affection I thought he deserved. I brought him lunch, picked him up for school everyday, helped him in school to the point where I would stay up to do his work on top of my own. He used to say thank you when I did things like this. The thank you stopped and there were some points where I would silently cry to myself laying next to him in bed, wondering why he didn’t appreciate what I had done. Maybe I hadn’t done enough?  I used to think that he was the breath of fresh air I needed, when really it was his thumb that was pushing on my trachea slower and slower, ultimately suppressing the most human ability – breathing. His words once filled with warmth, were now frozen leaving frostbite on my self worth and outlook on life. He stopped inviting me places, and his sentences contained more swear words than ones that weren’t. He not only became cold, but then became untrustworthy. Acquaintances would text my friends telling them that they saw Sam out all over a bunch of girls, acting like he wasn’t in a relationship. When I would confront him he would turn it around on me.

“If you can’t trust me after two fucking years, then what the fuck are we even doing together?” Sam would say.

“I do trust you, just promise me that you’ll try and be better about telling me who you’re with?”

“Well I’ll fucking try, but all you do is bitch. You just need to trust me.”

Our conversations like this were frequent, and then we would be okay and I would feel that he loved me, and then he would fuck up again. It became what felt like an endless cycle. I would pretend like he didn’t lie, and I would defend him to my friends and family that clearly could see what I couldn’t – that he was deceptive, a liar, and that he didn’t make me feel warm anymore. I had nightmares about him cheating on me, and I honestly thought that maybe something was seriously wrong with me because I didn’t feel the love he supposedly gave me. I blamed it on myself thinking that I just had trust issues. I knew we were not summer, and we were not fall, we were winter – and the most unequivocally gut wrenching part of it all was that I was willing to endure the blizzard that he had become, purely because I had lost myself trying to hold on to the love we once had.

***

It’s August 27th, two days after Sam and Payten’s two year anniversary, she lives in Iowa City now though and he is still in high school in the town they lived in. He never stopped becoming winter and as his storm raged on, she become more frozen and numb. Numb to how he made her feel, numb to the words of spite he would throw at it her, like “you’re a dumbass, you’re not pretty… stop fucking crying I didn’t even yell at you, you’re such a child.”  Here’s the thing about being frozen though… something that’s frozen must inevitably break.

It’s midnight and Payten has finally broken, in more ways than one. She has just read the derogatory messaging between Sam and another girl, who he had supposedly slept with a few months prior. This girl was Payten’s friend, teammate and co-worker, which was why it was easy for her to not believe it when people had said Sam slept with her. Payten knows that she shouldn’t dig through his twitter account, but she’s so far away distance wise and he’s been so distant emotionally. She knows he has the same password for everything, so she decides it’s finally time to pry the truth if he won’t willingly give it to her.

“You have been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system”

Payten calls back, again and again, waiting an hour in between. Her hands are shaking as she dials the phone each time, tears hitting the illuminated screen as she thinks of everything she will actually say when he finally answers. She thinks of what she wants to say, of what he will say. Part of her though, hopes that he doesn’t answer.Because the conversation she read, which depicted a scene of her boyfriend and another girl in bed together, was nothing she hadn’t heard before. If we are being honest, she half expected to see that conversation on there, but nevertheless seeing it still hurt the same despite the fact that she already knew about it. The girl Sam had been messaging had said how lucky he was that he got to sleep with her and how she’d see him again soon. The messages had been going on for months now.  3 am hits.

“Payten, what the hell do you want?” Sam said.

“Tell me the truth, I mean it this time, you may as well tell me because I already know the truth, so don’t try and deny it.” Payten said.

“Why this is relevant right now?”

“I honestly just want to know why Sam. Why wasn’t I good enough, okay wait scratch that. Was I too good, did you need to self destruct because you couldn’t handle that what we had was real? Seriously you at least owe me an explanation.”

“Payten, there is no reason, I don’t know why I did it.”

“Did you ever love me?”

“Of course”

“Because Sam, last time I checked people who love each other don’t sleep with other people”

“Okay Payten”

“That’s it, after two years. All you did was take and take, and you can’t even answer one simple question. Why?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say”

“I want you to say the truth for one damn second of your life”

“That is the truth though, I have no explanation.”

The call ended just as the relationship had.

***

What I still don’t understand is why I wasn’t enough. Why wasn’t the love I gave him enough to make him love me just as much as I loved him? Why did I change myself for someone who didn’t compromise a single thing about himself in two years? Why, even after everything he has done to me, do I still care what happens to him? Why does hearing that his life is falling apart hurt every fiber of my being, when it should make me happy to know that he can’t function well without me? Why does anyone put up with relationships filled with emotional abuse?

Emotional abuse is real, because while I may not have had bruises on my skin, my mental state, self worth, outlook on life and love had all been left broken and bruised. The larger question that this entire situation leaves me thinking about it is why do I, or a majority of all types of people, succumb to lessening ourselves in order to believe that what we have is love. And is that love? Or was there ever even really love there to begin with, because there is a fine line between love and hate. Both feelings of such raw passion, so can you actually have a relationship purely of love or will some hate always fester underneath the surface waiting for it’s moment to burst out and overpower the love that is there? If we gave all of the love we had in a relationship that didn’t give any back, is there any love left to give to the next person that actually deserves it?

This speaks measures to the idea of love in the society which we currently live in. If you look at the divorce rate in our country alone, it has shown that an astronomical amount of people have allowed hate to consume their once pure relationship. If you look at the amount of men and women who lessen themselves and allow for emotional and physical abuse to be welcomed into their relationship, it speaks volumes to how people in our society are so hungry to be loved and to feel loved that they become confused on what love really is. Love is an abstract concept, but if we strip it down to the bare basics of what it really means it is clear to see what love is not. It is not words of hate, degrading yourself, degrading the other person to make yourself feel bigger or better. Love is not cheating, love is not hatred, love is not abuse. If love is not all of these things, then why are so many people, myself included confusing them as attributes of a healthy relationship?