#i wish i could just cease to exist without making anybody sad.

[yourlocalxenomorph3]

i appreciate the concern anon! im mostly not serious but im also a little serious but im not gonna do anything drastic but my brain really really really thinks about doing drastic things

[blazerina]

Linger (Ethan x MC)

Open Heart // Ethan Ramsey x Allie Valentine (MC)

author’s note: this is kind of sad – not sure where it came from but it made me get a li’l emo at the end…sorry I can’t write fluff anymore…I don’t know what’s wrong with me! this story is inspired by a dear girl  @parkerattano who is always inspiring me!!

word count: 3084

summary: ethan struggles within himself to figure out his true feelings for allie (MC).

--

Ethan was angry. His normally brisk pace was even faster today as he made his rounds and checked on his patients. He felt how stiff he was holding his own neck and shoulders when he bent down to get a drink of water from the fountain next to the nurses’ station.  He knew their desk was the “gossip hub” of Edenbrook and today was no different. The chattering. The whispering. The laughing. Everything had him on edge. Even the orderlies and interns seemed to be cackling about something. He was pretty sure he knew what it was.  He had to get out of there.

Instead of eating on his lunch break, he decided to go for a quick run. He had a favorite path through the park, about a block from the hospital, that he followed countless times before. It was always his “go to” lunchtime activity when he felt extra tense, or too stressed to eat a decent meal.  

He opted out of using his ear buds this time.  He wanted to clear his head without a distraction. That seemed to be his problem lately – he was too distracted.  He was longing for the days when all he had to worry about was himself; when he could focus on his patients and his work while he was at the hospital, and then go home or do whatever he pleased in his free time. It felt like forever since he had the freedom to just be. All his spare time, every waking moment, his head and his mind were filled with thoughts of her.

Ethan’s muscles knew the way having run that trail so many times before, it was as if his body’s memory took over, leading him around every bend and up and down every hill. The energy built up inside of him made him feel like he could run it five times over. He wanted to keep going…and going…and going.

Regrettably, lately he even noticed that he was slipping when it came to his patients. He had missed obvious details in a case a few days ago.  That never happens.  Not to Doctor Ethan Ramsey.  This really could only be explained by his intense focus on one fact - he never expected her to be so cold.

When he told her that what they had was in the past and they had to be professional now, he thought it would be easier than this. He expected her to pout or sulk, maybe look for excuses to see him or manufacture moments that would ensure subtle and secret exchanges with each other, but she always remained steadfast.

It was as if as soon as the word professional was uttered, Allie was shut down and turned off. The Allie he knew and had fallen in love with, ceased to exist.  She was a damn good doctor and still relied on him to be her mentor and guide, especially now that she was working with him on his team, but something was different. The look in her eye was distant, she steadied herself and steeled herself in a way that surprised him more than he cared to admit.

There were moments he wanted to linger, especially when they found themselves alone with each other, but just as he had asked, she kept it professional.  And that’s what it would take for both of them to continue to be successful. This is what proper and honorable medical professionals did – they put everyone else first and resolved within themselves to make sacrifices on behalf of the greater good.

As Ethan slowed up his jog, returning to the hospital, he was more out of breath than normal.  He checked his own pulse and realized it was much higher than he was used to on one of these more simple runs. Rolling his eyes, he was still frustrated with himself, especially as he remembered the newest buzz he’d been hearing all morning from the gossip mill.  With a heavy sigh, he moved quickly to the locker room and showered. His plan was to hunker down in his office the rest of the afternoon and hope he wouldn’t be bothered.

--

It wasn’t long before a quick knock on his office door, disturbed him from his thoughts. He had read and re-read the same line in the medical journal he was studying, at least 4 times.  

“Come in.” He barked, more forceful than he intended.

“Ethan – there you are – hiding in here again today?” Naveen beamed, appearing in the doorway as bubbly as ever, reminding Ethan of a male version of the fairy godmother in Cinderella.

Naveen’s voice sing-songed like a nursery rhyme and he seemed extra cheery for some reason. Ethan suspected he had also heard the rumors, but didn’t feel emotionally capable of handling a deep, honest, raw conversation with his mentor and friend today.

“Cut the crap, Naveen. What do you want?” He snarled, opening a drawer and pulling out his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, before putting them on.

Naveen’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest and studied his protégé. Looking over his shoulder to ensure Ethan’s office door was closed, he moved closer to his desk and looked down his nose at him, waiting in silence for Ethan to speak again.

“Look – I know I’m being short and you’re going to lecture me, but can we do this some other time? Frankly, I’m not in the mood.”

“There are days I’m not in the mood either, but I don’t go around treating everyone like second-class citizens.” Naveen chided.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is?” He sighed and settled into one of the dark leather lounge chairs facing Ethan’s desk.

Ethan rolled his eyes and removed his glasses after letting the journal fall to his desk with a loud smack.

“Don’t you have more important work to do? You’ve gone and left me high and dry to deal with this “situation…” Ethan made quotation marks in the air, “on my own, so I’ll just take it from here.”

He huffed, clearly agitated, but looking Naveen in the eye.

Remaining calm and completely unphased by Ethan’s theatrics, Naveen replied, “Excuse me. I left you high and dry you say? Ethan, need I remind you that YOU are the one who left for two months, completely unannounced and unexplained.  So, who exactly left who?”

Ethan was not expecting him to push back with such logic. Defiantly, he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. This has been a well thought through plan that you’ve been watching unfold right before your eyes, even as far back as the hospital bed I kept you alive on in quarantine, months ago.”

“You and Dr. Valentine kept me alive, just want to correct you there.” Naveen chuckled, pointing out the one person, or situation, that Ethan did not want to discuss.

“Dammit Naveen, I said not now. I don’t have time for this.” Ethan walked towards the large glass window that overlooked the park where he ran a few hours earlier. He wished he was still there.

“Ethan…” Naveen, cleared his throat, “If I may…”

“You may not.”

Ignoring Ethan, Naveen kept going.

“For someone who relies so heavily on the facts of any given situation to lead you to the truth, you are making an awful lot of assumptions.”

Ethan fixed his gaze outside, not wanting Naveen to see any hint of emotion or feeling. He couldn’t let the man know he might be right.

A silence settled over the two men, hanging in the air that now felt pretty thick between them.

Quietly, Naveen offered, “With Harper this was never an issue. Why does this professional situation appear to be causing so much strife now?”

Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Snapshots of Allie flashed in his mind. He didn’t have a good answer. Words failed him at trying to explain this “situation” to anybody.

“It’s different and you know it.” He grumbled, turning away from the window to face his friend.

“She…she has made her choice. I wasn’t so sure, but now it’s clear to me.” Ethan explained. “Everyone’s been talking about it all damn day, Naveen.  Haven’t you heard? She’s found someone else.”

--

Later that evening, Ethan was absentmindedly scrolling through shows on his television while nursing a beer.  Dejectedly, he sat on the couch, totally bored and disgusted with his current state. It wasn’t like him to recoil into himself like this. To sulk in his home and be full of self-pity. He hated what he had become. What she had done to him. What he had done to himself.

Smeone rapped on his front door loudly and suddenly, pulling Ethan from his thoughts, causing him to jump.

“Christ!” He cursed as he realized some beer had gotten onto his shirt. He glanced at the clock.

“11:17? What the hell?” Not bothering to look through the peephole, assuming it was a drunk college student at the wrong apartment AGAIN, he opened the door ready to give the person on the other side a very heated dressing-down.

He swung open the door and had to do a double take, not believing that Allie was actually the one in front of him.

“Are you insane?” He blurted out.

“Good to see you too. Can I come in? We need to talk.”

“Clearly.” Ethan held the door open wide enough for her to get by and then slammed it shut.

Allie whirled around with an angry look in her eye, referencing the way he banged the door closed.

“I didn’t mean for that to…be so hard…I just…” He sighed, already exasperated from the emotional ups and downs of his day.

“Look, I won’t drag this out or anything, but I need to know if this is what you want.”

Ethan was still reeling from all the beer he consumed, believing that Allie was actually in his living room, and also the fact that she was talking to him, not at the hospital, about what appeared to be…their relationship.

“Sorry – I’m not sure I follow…?”

“This.” Allie gestured to the large space between the two of them. “Did you spill something on your shirt?”

“I did.” He nodded. “Go on, Dr. Valentine.”

He crossed his arms over his chest to one, cover up the stain and two, show her he wouldn’t be intimidated. But why did he do that? Why did he bristle every time she was around? Why did he force himself to act like a pompous, arrogant, jackass whenever she challenged him? This wasn’t the way it had always been. Back to Naveen’s point earlier: what was different?

“Are you pleased, Dr. Ramsey? With this arrangement? Have I been professional enough for you?” Allie used air quotes when she said the word professional.

“I suppose I’d say I’m satisfied with how things are progressing, professionally,” Ethan emphasized, “however, it’s only been a few weeks so I don’t know that I can give a full review of my thoughts on the matter entirely.”

“Ethan.” Allie squared up to him and faced him head on, also crossing her arms over her chest.

“You know what I mean. Quit playing games.”

He swallowed hard. He knew that there were very few people in his life who cared about him enough to call him on his BS. Allie was one of them.

Relaxing a little bit, Ethan walked to the kitchen and Allie tentatively followed him.  Sitting down on a stool near the bar, Ethan reached into a cabinet for some glasses and offered her some water.

“No thanks, I won’t be here long.”

Ethan poured some bottled, sparkling water into a glass with some ice and took a sip. He leaned back against the counter and asked, “What are you doing here, Allie? What is it that you’re wanting…really?”

“I’m wanting to know if this is how it’s going to be.”

“How what’s going to be?”

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” She asked, a mixture of shock and sadness falling on her face.

“You are impossible.” Allie muttered under her breath before sighing and slapping her hands on her thighs.

“US – Ethan! I’m talking about US.  You and me. Is this how you want it? The professional thing. Me saying yes sir and you giving me the cold shoulder and US pretending that there never was an US.”

He wanted to speak. He wanted to say something but he had no idea what would come out if he opened his mouth so he didn’t. He kept quiet and let her continue.

“I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult.” She stood up.

“I never should have come. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing, to be the good doctor who doesn’t let her feelings get in the way of anything…” Allie started moving towards the door when Ethan finally spoke.

“I heard about you and Bryce. Today. At the hospital. You have someone else now, someone better suited for you, someone who can give you the attention, the care, the relationship you want and deserve.”

Allie stopped in her tracks.

“There is no me and Bryce…” She turned around to face him. “At least not…yet and I don’t really know if that even really is a thing or not but I had to talk to you because I don’t…I can’t…”

“Move on.” Ethan finished the sentence for her, but his words sounded more like an instruction.

“Move on, Allie. It’s for the best.”

“Just like that?” She questioned, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “You can cut it all off that easily? Did it…did I really not mean that much to you?”

“This isn’t about me.” Ethan started, feeling himself about to ramble.

What a lie he was spinning. Everything was about him. The way he responded to Naveen. The way he treated the few people in his life he was closest to. His anger. All his emotion. The jogging. The isolating. This was all about him and he knew it. His choices had gotten him into this mess. There was only one clear way out.

“I want this to be about you and what’s best for you and your future.  You need to do your best to put whatever it is about us that you focus on…behind you…”

“I just want you to admit that it’s hard.” The emotion in Allie’s eyes and voice was enough to drive Ethan to his knees.

“After all we shared together and how vulnerable we’ve been with one another, why can’t you just admit that it’s not that simple? It’s not that easy to just walk away?” She questioned.

“I don’t know why. But I can’t. I can’t give in to my emotions on a whim. I must stay calculated and measured and have some semblance of order to my life, Allie.  I cannot live in chaos.”

Ethan paced a few times in the quiet as Allie studied him, letting out a sigh or two of her own.  He settled on the couch and grabbed the remote, about to turn the volume up on the television.

“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like…but I don’t have a lot more to say on this subject.”

His jaw tightened, every muscle in his face clenched. Ethan was afraid with one more word he’d let the dam inside him burst wide open and there’d be no going back. He had to think about her. He had to put her first for once, and not be selfish. As hard as it was, he had to willingly push her into someone else’s arms.

“I’ve always trusted you, you know.” Allie said, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Allie…” Ethan tried to interrupt her, whining a little and giving away his agitation with her. He did not want to hear her appeal.

“I trust you now, too. And if you really, truly think that me trying to move on…with Bryce…” she paused, watching his face for a reaction.

“…is what I should do…then I’ll do it. I’ll move on.  And I’ll make you proud of me and we’ll be part of the best damn diagnostics team in the country. I trust you that much. I’ve always looked to you for guidance and direction. This is no different.”

A strange peace settled over Ethan. He didn’t like and couldn’t even entertain the thought of Allie being with Bryce, but it was better than her still hurting or being sad about him. He could handle never getting over their relationship; but he couldn’t handle it if she still held on.  

This morning he had been wishing for her to not be so cold. He wanted her to want him again. Here she was in front of him, letting those walls down and he couldn’t do it. Maybe he missed the secret. Maybe he wanted something that was just for the two of them. Hand brushes here and there; looks across the table only meant for one another. The thrill of sneaking out of her apartment before her roommates got up…

It was all those things and more. He didn’t miss the game completely although he had to admit it was fun. More fun with her than anything ever was with Harper…but really, when it all came down to it, he just missed her.

“I think that’s a wise decision.” He sat up a little straighter and looked into her eyes. “Go for it. You deserve to be happy.”

Allie nodded, accepting his wisdom while biting her lip and looking at the floor.

“You said I could stay…” she offered moving closer to him.  She put her head on his shoulder and reached for his hand.

Allie placed Ethan’s arm around her shoulder and looked up at him. “I just want this…one more time.”

Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, taking in the feeling of her next to him. The smell of her shampoo mixed with her makeup. Her dark red hair resting beneath his stubbled chin. Her hazel eyes sparkling and looking up at him as if he had given her the world, when all he’d really done is crush it.

He tightened his grip around her and thought to himself:

I just want this too.

But couldn’t bring himself to say it.

[paulwalltran]

Dungeons and Dragons Loneliness

Another interview with lofi music. Today was a pretty shitty day, alot on my mind. Here to unload. 

Today’s mood: Fuck it all...

It’s a mad addiction, a horrendous one. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want to talk about. Or almost anything fantasy related. I’ve recently gotten a little closer with one of my co workers. Delerner Banks, everyone calls him Del. He’s always in the tunnel, and always brings warhammer books to read and do work (whatever it is he’s working on.) We talk about fantasy related things all the time, and sometimes we bounce ideas off each other, feeling out our thoughts of settings and lore. Talking to him about some fantasy before leaving work made me feel alot better. The loneliness inside has been eating at me.

I know it’s salt, I know its jealousy, that I’m mad at my friends. They been hanging out more without me, playing cards and shit. Its not a passion of mine, its fun sometimes, but its still not me. Its what they bond over, its what they do together, and that’s what theyre into. If I had to guess, they’re okay with Dungeons and Dragons, but even my best friend said that I take it too serious. Its fallen out of their favor, it eats up a lot of time, and they each have their version of what a fun campaign would be like. In me, I said to myself, “Fine, fuck it. I’ll have to assemble another crew to play with.” Tough situation then isn’t it? Wanting to play a social game that needs bodies, during an age where social gatherings are frowned upon, because they carry a potential to spread a virus... Still, this is what I want to do. I want a group of friends, who share the same passion I do. My current friends must think ill of me, they may just want to hang out. They think that if they come hang with me, I’ll want a game of DnD without a doubt. They just want to chill and kick it, they don’t want to roll dice. But ask me once and I’ll tell you yes twice, to playing DnD. 

I love it with all my heart, all of the contents and materials are here, ready to play. No extra investments, no money needed to be spent, we can get going off of nothing like we did back then. A table top roleplaying game, we started with cardboard and lego figures, and just two books to share. But there was fun to be had, and a few heated sessions. But fun it was, the more we played the deeper i grew fond of the game. I’m even willing to experiment with other systems if I have someone to guide me. With cards, you gotta constantly update your arsenal to keep up with the meta, and let’s be real, not playing anything remotely close to meta isn’t as fun. Different formats allow different decks, and to keep current you gotta keep up. I dont have the fundings for it, I dont have the luck. I would rather buy a module that’ll last for years, versus a pack of cards. I have two books that have skyrocketed in value, cards go up and down like stocks. But thats the appeal I suppose, I don’t care for it though.

Back to the thing at hand, I’m in their group chat as they make plans. I can’t be there for all that. But fuck it, that’s all Im going to say. Fuck it, on repeat, until its engraved into my head. Pride is getting the best of me, I refused to be denied again. If it’s not something they want to do, so be it, I need to look out for me in the end.  I must muster up the courage to start playing online again, the first one wasn’t bad, but it fell apart. I need to get the courage to be social, and get over the fear that everyone expects you to be a pro player. I’m scared going into this green still, roll20 isn’t my forte. But if I want to play DnD, this seems to be my only option. It may fulfill my wish, to find friends who are just as passionate as I. My other friends, they’re over on the other side. Its fine, it truly is, they have one another, and I need to be strong. I need to find the strength in this loneliness, even though its tearing me apart. My circle becomes smaller, thats just the way of the world. Adapt to survive, be formless like water...

Dungeons and Dragons, my greatest escape. I can be anybody, and do things I normally can’t. I can clobber up bad guys, indecent folk, and finesse my way out of punishment from the law. I can save a village, a town, a kingdom, when I can hardly save myself. I can fly, cast spells, break locks, imagination is my only limit. I can hoard and amass vast amounts of riches, I myself can even become a dragon. I don’t have to be me, although a bit of me resides in everyone I’ve made before. I can never truly separate myself, from those Ive breathed life into. For hours on end, I can go anywhere, do anything, I melt into the world thats placed before me.

 Because the reality is that I’m practically shit, and nobody. The world is fucked up and jacked up and spiraling down the drain. I’m mentally fucked and my physicality is pretty much the same. I’m stuck in place when the world is demanding me to change. I lost with no real direction. No map in hand, no guide, and I’m scared out of my mind. I don’t know whether to trust the process or commit suicide. Im not sure where I’ll end up, if it’s good or bad. Im struggling, I’m suffering, and there seems to be no end. I could say I’m trying, but I would be lying, if I had to look at the brighter side. The positive things in life are so hard to identify. But my emotions are raw and hit hard, slamming against the walls in my skull. Demanding me to give them attention...and attention I give them, as they tear me up. Like being pulled at by the limbs, drawn and quartered is the method it seems like today. I was thinking that I couldn’t drink forever, my body would eventually reject. But what if I drank energy drinks on end, a heart attack to get me out of this place. I can down those all day long, so whats stopping me from taking that way out of it? Less grotesque and violent, it’ll probably be painful as hell. An organ seizing up, as the body ceases the function. I get said thinking about it sometimes, but one day, enough will be enough. But damn that lady...damn her for speaking those words... Tomorrow. If nothing is better by tomorrow, then do as you may. But sleep it off, tomorrow is another day. 

It’s not verbatim, but its the gist. Just wait for tomorrow, and hopefully things will change. The choice is still mine to make, and something in me pushes me forward, keeps me going on. Sometimes I think about who I’m leaving behind, and maybe how much it’ll hurt. The evil darkness inside me says that they’ll get over it, they have to, and time doesn’t wait. I won’t be immortalized, I’ll simply end up a statistic. That maybe itll be a few years the sadness remains fresh, but wounds always heal. Discrediting my actual existence, and any form of relations. Like I wouldn’t have made any actual impressions, people don’t weep for me now. People kind of forget I exist already, what makes me think they won’t after I’m gone? 

I think about my folks, my grandma, my girlfriend, my second family, and other close dear friends. I think about how many last will letters I would have to put out there, before I call for the curtains. Sometimes, I say I will start writing them, but they give me pause. I end up not wanting to leave this world, after pouring out my heart. Because I don’t want to leave any questions behind for people who matter, I want them to know how I felt before I passed. I want to leave with them apart of me, so they would never forget. 

Still it doesn’t change, shit is rough as of lately, work has been eating me up. I feel like Im never hundred percent, and me back on gaming is making it worst. I’ve gotten back onto Elder Scrolls Skyrim, its been my virtual version of DnD. Waiting for the Outer World Expansion, so I can get addicted to that again. All I want to do is play Dungeons and Dragons, the question is how do I make that into a living? I think being a Matthew Mercer is one in a million, I don’t think I’m that great. I’m willing to learn, grow, evolve because it is my passion, but I’m always scared of making mistakes. To be one of the greater Dungeon Masters, to be THE Wizards of the Coast Dungeon Master, it may possibly be the dream. To eat, sleep, breathe, Dee en Dee. My obsession isn’t that crazy though, I’m still behind on the lore of creatures and settings, I haven’t studied at all. But with the right drive and motivation, I would, especially with something as real as a legit group.

Enthusiastic players, who show up every week, bi weekly, once every month even, to play this fantastic game. Group of chill folks who is willing to take the Dungeon Master Mantle with I get burned out and have the desire to be in the player seat. One of those is the driving force, they make me want to plan. They make me want to make the world, the style, everything in general better, with the constructive feedback. I mean it’s been so long as I was a player in a campaign until the end, I’m beginning to think paying for a Dungeon Master wouldn’t be so bad. Once a month? A couple of hours? I mean I’m thinking like seven USD per hour? Eight isn’t bad, but after that it becomes a questionable amount. It repeats in my head, “No DnD is better than Bad DnD”, this much is probably still true. I say still because I still might want at least one session with said game, so I can at least say it was the worst after having attempt it, rolling something. Ha ha, I kid myself, I’m lying because I know the rage would be all to real and caution is my game most of the time. But I mean, I just might have to start exploring the idea, I was definitely going to ask on FaceBook if any Roll20 games was recruiting a newbie. 

Alas, today won’t be the last time I speak on the matter, Dungeons and Dragons haunt me everyday. I stare at minis, I stare at the upcoming books and modules, and I watch youtube where they tell RPG Horror Stories, Its become a huge part of my life, such as dancing once was. It almost links right into my earliest talents...writing. I love to write, just like I’m doing now. Im fairly decent at the writing game if I must say. Hey, real life failed Bard here, I should make one who always ends up playing big bro, and end up being friendzoned by all his interests. Im short, so Halfling is very true. Am I charismatic? Who knows, I can’t say for sure. But yes, I feel like this is what I need, a solid weekly game, maybe once every two weeks, hell, once every month would still be great. Something to look forward to the very least, in this life of routine and mundane. Something to look forward to for me, something that’s my own. Something I don’t need my closer friends to be apart of, since they’re not interested anyhow. I’m really talking shit because I’m hella salty, but at least I’m being upfront. Get it all out now, before the typing is done. 

It’s been a productive session, I may have to attribute it to Lofi it seems. The Lofi Hip Hop Radio on YouTube, also found on Spotify. Some tracks still strike me deep in the chest, giving me horrible flash backs and feeling in my chest. Others keep me going, forward, almost propelling. I’m currently training myself to be accustomed to the sounds, because I at first was very scared. That it would just transport me to a dark place and keep me there. I’ve been trying to confront my feelings more with this music, I think I felt better after last session like this. The more I faced myself, the better I became. Yes, I most definitely referenced Persona 4, another amazing and loved title because of the message it portrays. I always wondered what my shadow self would look like, and what they would say. But eh another time, I’m about to start rambling again. I have to conclude here, before I get off topic.

Until next time Tumblr...

[stedes-black-bonnet]

My Baby Does Me: Chapter 20

POV: John Deacon x reader, though this one is Roger-centric for you Rog stans. Reader and such will be back next chapter, FYI.

Notes: Masterlist? Ongoing fic, and such.

Warnings: Roger angst. Swearing; negative self-worth; aggressive drinking; it is really just sad. I love the character of Roger, so this wasn’t fun to write, but I promise it is all necessary for his character’s development.

Abstract: Don’t you hear me calling you…?

Roger Taylor didn’t remember his descent from the retro five story walk-up, so full of color that place had been. Sharp rainbows of light, prisms of flowering color, life was a kaleidoscope for him, for them there. In that place, color was transcendence, and he had been riding the wave. Riding the wave with Lydia since he met her, really. She was color. She was feeling. She was light. So full of light she was bursting with it. Technicolor, he thought. But he couldn’t, he wasn’t, he just couldn’t--

He saw it happening in front of his eyes, like something from a science fiction film; every step he took away from that bucolic art deco place, every running dash from light, every step towards his desertion drained the color from his vision. Everything faded to blacks and whites and ceased to matter.

He didn’t remember getting into his Alfa Romeo. He was sure it used to be red. Nor did he recall how long he had been sitting in it, with his hands gripping the wheel. This wasn’t traveling without moving, for even his mind wasn’t racing; he was immovable.

This persisted.

For a great deal of time.

More time than he’d ever admit to anyone ever.

Longer than made sense to anyone passing him on the streets.

Certainly longer than made sense to him.

He felt he wasn’t making sense anymore. The world wasn’t making sense anymore. Where had the color gone?

Where was Brian when you needed him? Probably sleeping, the lucky bugger, Roger thought.

In time, he lowered his head to the steering wheel and attempted to collect his thoughts.

But his thoughts were only for Lydia. He kept getting flashes of her, memories of her scent, her moans, her laughter, her colors. What it had felt like to hold her, to make love to her. And this was causing him tremendous discomfort, acute pain, and outrageous wrath.

He either needed to hit something or fuck somebody. Bang on something or bang someone. The old routine. Old faithful. Denial could take a person only so far, but a person? A person was a horse of a different color. Roger knew burying yourself in a warm body was the pathway to the existential bliss of a free mind. He needed relief, and he’d get it from someone else as he always had before. Before Lydia.

Was that what time was now? Before Lydia and after Lydia.

Stop that right now, Roger thought.

Where am I? He wasn’t sure. Some part of London. He needed to get away. He picked his head up, put a key in the ignition, and tried to start his car.

It wouldn’t start.

He slid his head back to the wheel and thought about feeling trapped in more ways than one. Then, painstakingly slowly he realized he had put the wrong key in the ignition.

Roger considered himself a smart man, and he was right. Right now, however, Roger felt like a fucking idiot. He put the right key in the ignition, started his baby, which always came for him, and wasn’t let down when she started her familiar purring. He shifted her into gear and started driving.

Fuck. He thought.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He arrived someplace. He didn’t remember getting there either. Am I going slightly mad, he wondered?

If only it were that simple.

Or maybe it was; Roger was attempting to slip back into his comfortable denial. The problem with emotions and emotionally intelligent people was that they could play themselves. Other people too, of course, could be trapped into their easy manipulations, but frequently what got ignored was their prowess at self-deception. Roger was a pro at it. Sure, he knew his own emotions, he wasn’t completely blind to his situation. He wasn’t blind to it at all, in fact. He just didn’t want to recognize that he was falling in love. It would, in short, ruin his life to do so. Or so he thought. He was convinced on this account. So convinced the only option he saw at surviving this cataclysmic event was to manipulate himself and his own emotions into a state of frantic denial. However, ever since leaving Lydia’s bedroom, his grip, usually tight and masterful, was beginning to deteriorate.

And now, well, he was desperate.

Fuck. He thought. Get a fucking grip. He wanted to grip Lydia.

No. No. You don’t. He thought. You don’t want to grip her. You want to grip someone else. Anybody else. Anyone would do. Literally anyone else. You’re fucked, mate. It’s finally happened. Happened. You’re falling in love and she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and—

And?

What exactly was wrong with it? With letting it happen?

Everything. For starters. So, fuck that. Fuck everything about it. And let’s get back to fucking everybody. She doesn’t exist. She’s dead to you.

You’re cracking up, mate. Just very slightly mad. What would be the harm in falling in love?

You’re already falling in love. You’re trying to stop it. Fuck it.

What would be the harm in letting yourself fall in love?

Roger screamed out loud, still sitting in his parked car. It was guttural. The screech of a wounded animal. No one was outside the club. No one heard him. But he felt embarrassed. Watched. Observed. Paranoid.

Pull yourself together. She’s just a girl. She’s nothing. She’s not worth it.

Besides, he thought, the truth was simple: You probably don’t deserve her. Anyway. She can do better. She can do better than some musician. You’d destroy her life. She’d come to hate you. You aren’t worthy of that kind of happiness. She’s everything, and you’re nothing. You. Don’t. Deserve. Her.

You don’t deserve her and you never did.

He left the car and entered the club. He didn’t care what it looked like. He saw nothing. Roger walked up to the bar.

“Gin and tonic.” He slid the bartender a 50.00 pound note, and said nothing else to him.

After receiving his drink, Roger downed it, wished he could drown in it. He placed the glass back on the bar, and signaled the bartender for another round. Roger surveyed the room, the room he didn’t care to remember or witness. He was looking for women. There were five women scattered around the place. Two were sitting together. One was alone. One was with another man. And one was dancing to some song he couldn’t place and didn’t want to recall.

Probably some disco trash.

The one sitting alone would be the quickest work of it. Roger reached for his second cocktail, and sauntered over to the woman sitting at a table he wasn’t thinking about.

She might have been beautiful. She might even have been someone quite special, talented, and interesting. But he didn’t really see her. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to know anything about her. He didn’t care about her.

He wasn’t really sure he cared about himself at this moment either. He didn’t deserve caring about himself.

All the better, he thought.

All the better reason to not pursue Lydia.

He grimaced as he felt some pain in his side. Something nondescript, something poignant, something sharp.

Maybe it was his heart.

But Roger didn’t really think he had a heart. Especially at this moment. He didn’t think he deserved one. Not if he was going to do this--again. And if he was going to do this to Lydia. With whom he had made no promises, but with whom he wanted to make every promise. He shook his head. Took a sip of his drink.

He made eye contact with the woman. He couldn’t tell you the color of her eyes. He saw her smile at him as a flash of recognition passed across her face.

She knows me, he thought. That’ll make this easier.

He didn’t ask if he could join her.

He sat, and he flashed her a disarming smile. Charm was easy for him. He could charm the devil before the devil could realize it.

Roger leaned in to her and said, “I’ll make you a bet.”

He didn’t remember her response, or the timbre of her voice, but it didn’t matter; he knew he had her. He always won. Why did this feel like losing?

Don’t think about it.

He opened the door for her; it was the least he could do.

“Now, love,” he said, squeezing her thigh, “what’s your address?”

She told him, he was certain, because they were entering an apartment that wasn’t his home, an apartment he would be doing everything within his power to not recall the next day.

He pressed her up against the door, kissing her routinely, touching her in ways he’d knew bring her joy, waiting to feel the same sensations, waiting for the dull ache to be sedated by the sweetness of another body. He remembers her pleasure, but none of his own.

He was in her bathroom. He doesn’t recall the color of the tiles, the size of the tub, or the brightness of the lights. Color wasn’t a thing anymore.

He does remember the mirror. Polished and gleaming. Maybe she was a person who enjoyed a pristine mirror. Though he didn’t care to recall that detail, even though he asked her about it before he left. He remembered staring into the mirror long after redressing.

Was I crying? Was that why it took so long to leave the bathroom? He couldn’t remember. Or maybe he didn’t want to remember.

He remembered the mirror and staring at himself. Thinking if Lydia had fallen asleep by now. Wondering what she looked like sleeping. Like the Goddess she was, he thought. He knew. His heart knew.

He remembered staring in the mirror. He saw himself. This would usually work. Finding somebody always worked. It had always worked. This was supposed to make me feel better, he thought.

This was supposed to fix it. Make him forget her. Make him forget himself. But instead that hadn’t happened. Instead he only felt empty.

He felt empty. Vacant. Nothing.

And then he was home again.

And he was alone.

He didn’t recall getting there. He didn’t want to remember anything about this night. Especially her. Especially her. He didn’t want to feel, which was the worst thing he could ever think, he thought. For Roger was, if anything, his emotions.

He went to bed. 

He hugged his pillow. 

And he tried to not think about her.

And colors didn’t exist anymore.

And he felt empty.

Tag List:  : @phantom-fangirl-stuff @triggeredpossum @obsessedwithrogertaylor @groupiie-love@partydulce @richiethotzierz @sophierobisonartfoundationblr @psychostarkid @teathymewithben@smittyjaws @just-ladyme @botinstqueen @mydogisthebest @little-welsh-wonder @maxjesty@deakysdiscos @yourealegendroger @marvellouspengwing @molethemollie @deakysgirl@arrowswithwifi @tardisgrump 

[zoejhargrave]

Moments of Kindness

Over the years, I’ve promised myself to always stay kind. Even in discouraging moments. For me, kindness is never a sign of weakness and despite anyones wrong doings, I’ve never gained any satisfaction out of being angry or mean in any sense. While I’m not in denial that life can be cruel and people can show their true colours in ugly ways, I believe more good exists than bad. 

Over the years, I’ve had many special interactions that have reminded me the true power of connection and understanding that is made between us as human beings. Sometimes it’s as simple as a smile while you walk past. Whatever it may be, we should never waste an opportunity to do good. To leave a mark that reminds people that we need to look out for each other, support one another and that we have one life to make all of this possible. 

Over the years, I have collected Moments of Kindness. While it is never anybody’s duty to sit down and share with you how they feel, some take the time to do so. To me, this means the world. I love words and I love how deeply they can make you feel. This blog gives small pieces of my heart and story. Here are some lovely pieces of others hearts that they have taken the time to share with me...

“The things  that you have said show that you can look past the fact that Josh has down syndrome and value him for the person he is. I have always thought that you attitude/friendship of Josh set a bench mark for other kids in your year..as in.. If Zoe thinks Josh is okay...then maybe he is! One of the very proudest moments of my life was at the year 10 grad when he got the award for being most popular student! I do love your kind/caring/thoughtful nature and your ability to think deeply about things that matter/perhaps a little differently/less selfishly than most people. They will surely be great skills to take into the next chapter of your life”

“But from seeing you I did know that kindness was a choice and a practice. I had never seen anybody so loving and trusting before - somebody who empathised instead of judging or getting angry. I wanted to be like that, too, and I don't think I would have known how if I didn't meet you. You made me more empathetic and more forgiving, and you made me want to be kind whenever I could.  It gave me hope that I could be better than my circumstances, and that hope kept me going in some of the darkest times. So thankyou, Zoe”. 

“I can tell you're one of those incredible people who everyone you meet loves you. Feel very lucky to have met you, and I hope we get to hang out again sometime in the near future!”. 

“I can honestly say it's one of the best decisions I've ever made. So much came out of that one step of confidence. Don't know who I'd have turned out to be without your friendship. I hope you know you change lives”.

“zoe, this message is so out of the blue but i remember you from primary school and you were so amazing and kind towards me and i used to always look up to you and i remember this one time this boy was being really mean to me and you let me sit with you and all your friends for that lunch and i still remember it even though it was from when i was in year 2 or something and you were in year 4 i think, haha. the world really needs more people like you <3 you're so beautiful! xx”

“I know I've messaged you before about how amazing you are but I seriously can't get over just how wonderful of a person you are. You help out people who are in need, you care for those you love and it seems to be contagious; just like your smile. I miss seeing you in the hallways at school and just seeing your smiling face could bring light into my day even if I wasn't having a particularly good one. Your voice is as beautiful as you are and I really do hope that you continue to do your singing. You can make a song that would normally make me sad, put a smile on my face because you sing it so brilliantly. I hope you're doing well and are happy, I wish you nothing but the best”. 

“And you just seem like you have such a pure and beautiful heart Zoe, that I look up to people like you and wish I could be that type of person”

“You are so beautiful Zoe. I love reading your posts, because you always communicate your gratitude and appreciation for big and small things alike. I have never met anybody who seemed more aware of how blessed they were for all the love that they’ve been given. So many use facebook as a medium for anger, irritation, or disappointment; but you never cease to try and share what makes you happy. I hope you never change.”. 

You are an amazing person and I am always inspired by your love, your compassion, your insight, and your ability to think differently about complex issues and this is reflected in how you interact with others”. 

“I spend so much time doing homework I barely ever give myself free time, but when I do, I listen to your soundcloud. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. I know you’re too shy to sing in front of crowds, and trust me, I understand what its like to be nervous. But it’s so bizarre to me that you feel that way, because you’re amazing and you’re so talented and you should be proud of yourself! You’ve touched so many people with your music and your spirit, and i know I’m among the masses who admire you and are inspired by you. Just don’t ever give up on your songs, because I know there would be more than just one socially-awkward late night stalker who would be heartbroken”. 

Stay kind all. xx

[incoherentlynonexistent-blog]

Unfortunate Outcome

Amazing how one person can change everything.....incredible as that same person becomes somebody they swore and promised to never become.....funny how you believed them, and the unfortunate outcome is the consequences you suffer because you trusted their word over everyone and everything....

It's so degrading...to now be where you're at only because you believed in something that wasnt ever real...

Hurtful to actually feel the loneliness kick in.....

Depressing to remember how little of an importance you were to them....

Unwilling to heal and move on because how do you pick yourself up after consistently being there for someone then for it to become abandoned and forgotten.....

It's the Unfortunet outcome to their mishaps that led me to becoming helpless and needy.

Sad thing is, I don't even know what it is that i want

Idk what I need....

I know I dont need this constant bullshit

Unfortunetly because I had so much hope and expectations

Its stupid to look back and realize how naive and oblivious I used to be

Now I guess they can say I made my own mess when they're the ones who lied and ridiculed me because I was drug along for so long

The most unfortunate thing about this is the outcome. Despite how much "better" they find this to be, I won't ever be able to be better....yea I have my good days, but even those arent good.....

Doesnt matter where they go

Doesnt matter the time they let slip by

Hell it doesn't matter what they do .

In still feeling the same things

I doubt ill ever have anything to help me endure this

I live everyday waiting still

I go about each day hoping anyone would love to be here again

I literally feel myself slipping

I'm already dead because of them

Added with how I'm still feeling

I'm not sure of this feeling will subside

It's all mind consuming

I can't just stop about this

It's the one thing that no-one understands

The reason why I'm like this

The answer is simple

Given the empty promises and then being just thrown way like yesterdays garbage

I'm miserable with this unfortunate outcome.....

I didnt get closure

Instead I get the only thing that's never changed

Them leaving my life.....

Something promised against but in the end

They all prove to be the same person that leff you to begin with ......

It's hard living and feeling like this

I have no faith

I don't have confidence

I'm trying to find a purpose

But I can't get far or enough to cease the memories....

They're just haunting to me now...

Only because of how and what I've done

You really think I can just magically become better

No.

It's not possible unless you actually are willing to be here

Or unless you actually gave me the closure I've been desiring

Until I'm given that

I will not get better.

I will not heal

This unfortunate outcome will be my life sentence

This isn't what I what wanted

None of this is

I don't want the depression

I dont care for the desire.

I just want to feel happy again.

I want a reason to actually smile and feel good about myself......

I just wished someone would hear me out

After asking for three years now...

I cant just move on

God Damn it man

If they only knew just how bad I really am

I wonder if things would be different....

I wonder if anyone wouldve left....

I just want someone to be here for me

Irs not ever been about my sex life or being in a relationship

My goal was to only be around the people who want to be here

Maybe ive beckne to fucked up to obtain that chance again

Unfortunate outcome is me being treated in such manner when the pupils who inflicted all that hurt and damage are the ones at fault for me becoming this way. They shut me out because I'm still fucked up over it. I was the original victim that became traumatized and untrusting, but I wouldnt be this irritable bitter suicidally depressed person that's unwilling to move on if it weren't for their actions.

I don't trust anybody any more

I don't even crack a smile

You know who you are

The person im addressing anyway ..

I hope you're happy

I hope you feel accomplished at what you created

With the unfortunate outcome that you refuse to have anything to do with what you started and fucked up numerous times......it leaves me like this.....

Idk how else to stress this fact

Because I cant get that little bit of respect....

When I shouldn't have been involved anyway

I should've walked away

I should've listened to the voice in my head

"Don't worry on going to the laundry mat

If I'd knew then what I knew now

I would've never showed up

I would have never existed

But its thanks to you ive gotten like this

Thanks to you I sit all day every day for the past few years pondering about whats wrong with me

Why am I not wanted. Why does everyone leave....see that's the difference between us, you're the one who does all the leaving. I linger because I believe in equal opportunity especially when so much effort was put into it in the first place. I believe in those who remain loyal and true on their word, but you seem to still believe in empty promises. You're using you're ears to see and you're eyes to hear. You're the most cruel and cold hearted creature. Not human.....because with human emotion, I couldnt do what you do, I cant lead them on, shut them out, I cant make someone feel like their the one for me, but then shut them down and out when the one I want is around. I will never understand you're selfish decisions and with how you know youve done wrong but you still don't bother to change.

Maybe I've become an unforgivable asshole, but that's the unfortunate outcome when someone so heartless just takes you for granted then you're the bad guy for not only reacting actually a little more civil than you should've, but because god knows whatever words come from my posts or even texts, god forbid they remind you consistently of what you've done. Everything I am and everything I do now is because of you..

Days I'm angry, I blame you

Days I'm depressed, It's your fault

Days I cut, blamed you because just the little bit of open honesty wouldve prevented me cutting myself, but only to relieve that pain that I cant get out through crying.

Its the pain that makes your chest ache and have the urge to just scream in agony. Its that lodged in lump that swells in your chest when everything that was promised, shared, and enjoyed together now sets this darkened, and dead look to it. I find myself shying away from every and any little thing that you had any relations to. My music has changed. My faith in life itself is nonexistent. Ive become so angry and bitter, that I am constantly snappy.

It doesnt matter how angry I were to get with anyone else, because every one probably tells you I'm fine.....

I'm not fine

Im not ok

I'm suffocating myself

Its hard to not still be bitter....

How can I not still be angry when you left once again.....ive been irrational and disrespectful, but I never thought that this unfortunate outcome would involve me getting worse....I figured at some point within these four years .....I figured you wouldve not done this so much that I'm probably permanently fucked up....I mean fucking look at me...have you ever seen anyone so pathetic and humiliating?....

Loving someone is so beautiful but sad, because when you fall for someone, there's some part of you that breaks too, its gone for ever because its with that person you wanted to give your whole heart to, but they'll only always have what's actually left of you. For some reason being in that persons presence or just respected enough to be even thought about by them, makes life worth living even if I were to spend it alone. Its not because you lack feelings or really the past that I held over your head....I just wanted for someone to finally treat me differently.....

You wound up treating me the same

This is my unfortunate outcome

Its been a battle especially the last two years

I've never in my life have I ever felt so much pain

Ive never loved anyone as much as I love you

The unfortunate outcome for you is me being gone when you want to come back

I already know how it's to be

Its why I never understood you

But I still kept trying to

Maybe that was my mistake

Because my unfortunate outcome is the distance between us and how little I've meant within the last couple years....idk myself what you could ever do to make things better.....

Unfortunate outcome is what's done is done....

Its ruined

We're ruined

Were gone....

The end....

Hope you're doing well.....

Sorry for being impulsive and annoying

I'm sorry for being a fucked up mess.

Wishing you a lifetime of happiness....

Wishing you luck on your endeavors

Ill miss you

I have been already

Life just won't ever be the same. I just know if it was went about differently I would be able to handle the sudden blocked phone and Tumblr better than what I am now. I'm wasting mt time is the sad thing because I'm sire you're thought is why if I'm to be the way I was before, well, it would be nice to have at least that wanting to talk to me or even asking things sbout my life. I literally have been wanting to fit in, and I'm sorry I tried to get in your way. I'm sorry for being this way period.....in sorry I can't bring myself to be better.....I literally feel like I have no other place to go or anything to do.....I should be doing soemthing with my life, bur in not.....only bevause I spend every day trying to avert seeing or even tbe chance to see you kr anything related to you That will rip my chest right then and there.

It's those things I want to feel better about.....I want to be able to see you without getting so severely depressed. That's the last unfortunate outcome, because of that, how I feel.....I think it's best if we just never saw each other ever again......Obviosuly you're already on that route but if that's really what you want, then you really will not ses me ever again. I mean you can scream yell my name. I will not look at any part of you.....I'm prudent because maybe youre right, just sticking with avoiding them, and I guess you do lose some feeling. I hate being like this. Idk what else to do. I dont need your help. I need your understanding. I dont need to be questioned, at least at what I'm doing, because idk anymore.....I get flustered easily because my mind stays so caught up on you that I fuck up everything I touch or work on.....then it goes back to the angry blaming you thing.....never ending......so how can I get better? What do I do? You just left. You didn't leave a note, you didnt say goodbye, and of all things I've ever done for you, you never helped my unfortunate outcomes...you rejected me time and time again.

I just idk how to be ok.....

I just feel like I'm losing touch with my existence

As in because you live in my mind so much I try to avoid that too....I've become a blank spaced emotionless robot....I'm depressed but I look solemn. I then break soon as I snap.....I'm getting worse.....idk its so hard to put into words. I just feel myself losing control over everything including my decisions.....

Whether you believe me or not.....I don't care to convince you anymore. Honestly I'm not even doing that now. I just needed to get what I could out....atleast While its flowing....well it was....I think I explained the best I could and linked the way I think...

Respond or don't respond

Respectfully, I'm refraining from tagging your blog name in the post. If you see it and or read it then its actually ok if you don't ever speak to me again.....I mean you're the one in charge and I know if you don't soeak first, then there's just nothing left to do but just hope you enjoy life.

Take care of yourself Kourt.....thanks for everything.....

[ahmerjohnny-blog]

Quotes About Being Alone Awesome Collection

https://latestquoteswala.com/quotes-about-being-alone/

Quotes About Being Alone Awesome Collection

Quotes About Being Alone

Quotes about being alone? Are you alone? And loneliness is killing you inside and you are not finding words to explain your emptiness caused by someones separation either you wander here or there or you just spend your day in searching quotes about being alone… Your emptiness can’t be fulfilled by searching quotes about being alone… It’s only be fulfilled by those persons who causes emptiness in your life…

If you wanna back those persons you just have to change yourself for the sake of your love because searching quotes about being alone are not only it’s solution… These quotes have an impact on other persons but first, you have to correct yourself by not thinking about your ego… If you wanna realize someone how much you are alone without him or her then its perfect place of finding quotes about being alone… Hope you will find your person soon who have left you by these quotes about being alone…

Happy Being Alone Quotes

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness. —Anaïs Nin

All great and precious things are lonely. —John Steinbeck (East of Eden)

The surest cure for vanity is loneliness. —Tom Wolfe

The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved. —Mother Teresa

Loneliness is about the scariest thing out there. —Joss Whedon

If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company. —Jean-Paul Sartre

Loneliness is and always has been the central and inevitable experience of every man. —Thomas Wolfe

Meaningful Quotes And Meaningful Sayings About Life

Yes, there is joy, fulfillment, and companionship—but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering. —Sylvia Plath

But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o’clock in the morning. —Haruki Murakami

Loneliness is a long, unbearable pain….There was never a place for me in the scheme of things….I had become a living fantasy on a theme in dark, endless dirges… However, I made another world, and real men would enter it and they would never really get hurt at all in the vivid, unreal laws of the dream. I caused dreams which caused death. This is my crime. —Dennis Nilsen

Online communities are an expression of loneliness. —Joanne Harris

When you have nobody you can make a cup of tea for, when nobody needs you, that’s when I think life is over. —Audrey Hepburn

Inspirational Quotes Being Alone

Loneliness is my least favorite thing about life. The thing that I’m most worried about is just being alone without anybody to care for or someone who will care for me. —Anne Hathaway

Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for. —Dag Hammarskjold

Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them. —Jodi Picoult

Who knows what true loneliness is—not the conventional word but the naked terror? To the lonely themselves, it wears a mask. The most miserable outcast hugs some memory or some illusion. —Joseph Conrad

Top Cute Boyfriend Quotes And Sayings

Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life’s cruelest irony. —Douglas Coupland

My peers, lately, have found companionship through means of intoxication—it makes them sociable. I, however, cannot force myself to use drugs to cheat on my loneliness—it is all that I have—and when the drugs and alcohol dissipate, will be all that my peers have as well. —Franz Kafka

Music was my refuge. I could crawl into space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness. —Maya Angelou

Love is something far more than a desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives. —Bertrand Russell

What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured. —Kurt Vonnegut

Quotes About Being Alone And Strong

The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly. —F. Scott Fitzgerald

The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared. —Lois Lowry

We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness. —Albert Schweitzer

The eternal quest of the individual human being is to shatter his loneliness. —Norman Cousins

Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying. —Arthur C. Clarke

Cute Love Quotes For Her Amazing Collection

Loneliness is the ultimate poverty. —Pauline Phillips

Loneliness is never crueler than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate. —Germaine Greer

Keep in mind that to avoid loneliness, many people need both a social circle and an intimate attachment. Having just one or two may still leave you feeling lonely. —Gretchen Rubin

The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely. —Charlotte Brontë

There is no loneliness like that of a failed marriage. —Alexander Theroux

Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell. —Edna St. Vincent Millay

I’m lonely. And I’m lonely in some horribly deep way and for a flash of an instant, I can see just how lonely, and how deep this feeling runs. And it scares the shit out of me to be this lonely because it seems catastrophic. —Augusten Burroughs

This world that I live in is empty and cold/the loneliness cuts me and tortures my soul. —Waylon Jennings

 Alone Quotes About Love

Sometimes, I think the pain I feel is a big reminder that I am still alive.

Keep on telling yourself to always be kind because you do not know what each people are going through, they might be fighting battles even worse than you.

I hate it most when some people tell me that they miss me but they do not even do anything to get in touch with you, they just like to feel guilty about it.

And then suddenly, my whole world crumbled to pieces and you were not there to help me pick it up.

I feel so broken and I do not know what I should do about it.

I do not see the point in screaming as I know that no one will listen anyway.

If you plan on making me cry, then you better be responsible enough to wipe my tears away.

Quotes About Helping Others With Images

The past will only keep on making me sad so I plan on never bringing it again with me.

I can’t let you go because without you, I just hate everything about being lonely.

I personally think that there is no point in crying especially since the moment you left me alone.

However, I never gave up, I just want to rest a bit and see if you even care about me just a bit.

I keep my smile on all the time so that no one will figure out just how sad and lonely I really am on the inside.

Listen, I hate to let go of the people that are important to me but they always seem to be one step ahead and leave me without notice.

Sometimes, I just want to know that I am at least important to someone.

Alone Quotes Sad

True enough, it seems that being lonely is one of the hardest things a person can go through in life.

The loneliest people in the world are those with kind hearts and those who always seem to smile and pretend that they are fine.

Is it too much to ask to be happy without expecting a moment of sadness to follow it?

Being lonely is not being alone, you can be in a big crowd of people and still feel lonely despite it.

If you really did love me why does it feel like you did not?

It is way easier to tell myself that I do not care than admit to people that leaving you killed me.

I wish that someday, you realize the importance of what you have let go.

The worst feeling in this world is being ignored by the person you treasure the most in this world.

Mother And Daughter Quotes, Sayings, Messages And Wishes

Don’t you dare judge me from how you see me because you do not know the real me and you never will?

It feels so sad to see the people you know become the people you used to know.

And then there are times when you will see that life is bound to end anyway so why not make it earlier.

It hurts, my heart does but I guess I must be thankful to it for you. Because it has made me stronger.

One day someone will come to prove to you that all that came before him are just boys whereas he is a man.

I want you to know that I am still here waiting for the day that you will come back and tell me that you still do love me even after all the years we were far apart from each other.

Alone Quotes From Girl

If you want to be happy, learn to be alone without being lonely. Learn that being alone does not mean being unhappy. The world is full of plenty of interesting and enjoyable things to do and people who can enrich your life.

I love to be alone. I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.

My alone feels so good, I’ll only have you if you’re sweeter than my solitude.

I live in that solitude which is painful in youth, but delicious in the years of maturity.

What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be.

All man’s miseries derive from not being able to sit quietly in a room alone.

Brother And Sister Quotes, Sayings And Wishes With Images

Without great solitude no serious work is possible.

You cannot be lonely if you like the person you’re alone with.

I love to be alone. However, I never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude.

I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.

If you are afraid of being lonely, don’t try to be right.”

There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall.

It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands to knock on the doorsteps of our hearts.

Until you get comfortable with being alone, you’ll never know if you’re choosing someone out of love or loneliness.

Alone Quotes For Boys

The best part about being alone is that you really don’t have to answer to anybody. You do what you want.

As I get older I’m more and more comfortable being alone.

Don’t go away. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t stand being alone.

Loneliness is my least favorite thing about life. The thing that I’m most worried about is just being alone without anybody to care for or someone who will care for me.

It’s better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone.

I had already found that it was not good to be alone, and so made companionship with what there was around me, sometimes with the universe and sometimes with my own insignificant self, but my books were always my friends, let fail all else.

Weekend Quotes Amazing Collection With Images

I think it’s good for a person to spend time alone. It gives them an opportunity to discover who they are and to figure out why they are always alone.

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.

The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved.

Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.

When we truly realize that we are all alone is when we need others the most.

Don’t feel alone, because there is always someone out there who loves you more than you can imagine.

Sometimes it’s better to be alone, no one can hurt you that way.

In order to be open to creativity, one must have the capacity for constructive use of solitude. One must overcome the fear of being alone.

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#Cards #Card #Sports #Jersey #Deals #city #relax #boy #night #streetstyle #light #findhappy #sadness #luckyme #partyhard #longway #admin #meme #quote #quotes

[rinusagitora]

we will carve a home out of the hollow in your chest

Fandom: Bleach

Characters: Momo Hinamori, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Shuuhei Hisagi, Izuru Kira

Pairings: RenShuuKiraHina-centric, familial HitsuHina

Words: 1500+

Summary: Canon divergent, pos TYBW arc. WARNINGS– body horror, minor violence, mass death. 3/4. The war is over, and the losses are permanent, but they know how to manage.

FFN | AO3 | Previous | Next

Her tears refused to desist, even as she fell into a trance as she tallied body after body. It was most certainly what Nanao’s rag was for, she thought after she tied the musty triangle over her face. Though Nanao grieved their massive losses, she wasn’t quite so selfless. She couldn’t bring herself to care for charred shapes or smears or pincushions or pieces of, she had exhausted all of her care except for but a handful after that man left, and a part of that handful had left her broken-hearted with his self-loathe.

His hurt left a hole in her, the exact mirror of his own.

Izuru had been cruel in the past, like she could be accusatory and like Renji could be cold and like Shuuhei could be passive-aggressive, but Aizen was a taboo subject for them. Aizen wasn’t something to be mentioned unless she brought it up, and he especially hadn’t called her delusional or implied fault on her end in the past.

She replayed it over and over again, she simply couldn’t stop, and it felt like that hole grew each and every time she restarted it. She didn’t wail, but she didn’t cease either. She may dry up at that rate.

Part of her, the part still needy for love, hoped she did.

Hours passed, and then hours more. She was grateful that she was left virtually alone to be lost in her work. The scene she caused in the tents most likely known by most of the Seireitei by then. Those last few days felt like a continuous existence instead of new days. It wasn’t nice to lose herself among the corpses of fallen allies, but it was a distraction. It was all that she could do.

“I hope you just forgot to sign out the last two days.”

She squawked as her heart launched into her throat. She spun around and nearly slapped her brother, but somehow refrained. “You need to stop sneaking up on people! It’s rude and you know better!” She snapped.

“I didn’t sneak, I’ve been here for the last ten minutes. You just don’t pay attention.” Toushirou told her as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t you have other things to do instead of bug me? Like captain duties?” She scoffed.

“Yes, but I haven’t slept in three days. I know you may think otherwise, but I’m not immortal. And neither are you.” He said. “Truthfully, I’ve come to fetch you since you’re totally incapable of taking care of yourself. Let’s get some food and some rest-- captain’s orders. Yes, your captain’s orders.”

She rolled her eyes as she followed her brother. “I can take care of myself just fine, thank you.”

“Being able to cook doesn’t count if you hardly eat, and it doesn’t pertain to rest. So I’m more right.”

“You’re obnoxious.” She grumbled.

“Although true, I’m assuming it doesn’t bother you if my teeth are still in my gums.” He said as he looped his arm around her waist.

Part of her missed their banter, she thought as she held Toushirou’s shoulders. She missed the simplicity of the Rukongai, but it was a distant memory and an impossibility to ever attain such purity again. She was too damaged and he was too jaded. But it was nice to be close to her brother again, to be held by his sympathetic grip. He had always taken better care of her than she ever herself, and though part of her hated how dependent she was on other people, she knew he felt guilty that he never say her fifteen years of torment, that he even liked her tormentor. Anything to bring a little comfort to him.

Their arms fell as they approached more populated areas. They were still leaders with images to maintain. Though, it was sparser than normal. It was midshift though, so she guessed most people counted, cleaned, or rebuilt.

She and Toushirou sat on an end table, far from any other activity. They had never been at the center of any group-- he always an outcast, and she too long removed from normal relationships to remember how to mingle with the masses. She had the handful that she needed; Toushirou, Rangiku, Nanao, Hirako, her boys.

Sans Izuru, which made her tears start afresh.

Toushirou certainly heard about the scene she caused at the tents. She wondered if he was there to perform some damage control and provide comfort in his own, awkward way. He never liked her lovers after Aizen, but he understood how much they meant to her. He understood when he boys hurt, she hurt. He understood his meddlesome habits were hurtful, but also that his presence itself soothed her.

“He'll start missing you guys as soon as he's done throwing his tantrum and come back and apologize.” Toushirou assured her. “I just wish he'd do it sometime soon. Outorishibashi hasn't stopped meaning about this since Kurotsuchi de-zombified him.”

“I feel like moaning about it too, so I don't blame him.” She murmured.

“It's not your fault, Hinamori. You didn't blow a hole through him.”  

No, but she had scared him off, twice then. He must feel like an abomination. “I hit him….” She said.

“Three times, from what I've heard. But I've heard that he deserved it. He's only got one lung now, so what? Taking out his misery on you makes him no better than Aizen.”

Her nostrils flared as she sighed. When would that man finally die in everyone's memory so she could let him die in her heart?

Still, Toushirou was right. Had Izuru really expected them to just not love him anymore because of his body? Had he really thought cruelty would’ve terminated their love when she put up with Aizen’s for years? Had he really thought she would’ve just thrown him aside like a filthy ragdoll like Aizen and Ichimaru and Tousen did to them?

It was just another bump in their relationship and they’d weather it out. She would make sure of that.

“Get some rest, alright?” She told her brother as she stood. She couldn’t eat anymore, though she had only cleaned half of her tray.

“You too, Hinamori.” Toushirou said.

She, of course, didn’t follow instructions and went right back to work.

At least she didn’t need the rag. She was glad all those tears had been worked out. She hated when she was emotional at work. Technically, she hated her emotions period, but her boys made it easier. When her boys kissed her, when they laid with her and let her play with their hair, it wasn’t as achey because she could feel their love with her misery.

She was suddenly plucked out of the neck-deep rubble she searched through. Shuuhei pecked her on her cheek as he hauled her onto her onto the huge slab held up by rubar and other debris.

“He’s back.” He whispered to her. “He and Renji had a long heart-to-heart the way he and Renji have their heart-to-hearts, and anytime you’re ready to talk, we should do so.”

Shuuhei’s announcement made her heart do some strange up and downs. It terrified her, because she was scared she would do the wrong thing and scare him away again. Part of her wanted to storm over to him and scold her blue-eyed lover for his cruelty to her but she assumed Renji had chewed off his ear enough. She wanted to run back to him and kiss him until he had no choice but to proclaim his love for her.

“I…” she cleared her throat, “it’s hard for me to feel him. Take me to him. Please?”

Shuuhei picked her up by the back of her knees. He was faster than she was, with his long stride and superior hakuda. That was alright, though. She was better in bed and her kidou was nearly unsurpassable by anybody but a handful of other shinigami. Her boys may be better warriors, but she was the best spellcaster.

Izuru and Renji were in a cleared spot. Not of debris, not yet, but of counted and collected bodies which gave them privacy. She felt awful to shirk her duties, but she could make it short and sweet. They had all the time in the world with those bastards finally dead.

Izuru looked down at her. There was that sad gaze, she thought.

“I didn’t mean all those things about… you and that man. I know that doesn’t mean much now, and it doesn’t change that I was in the wrong, but I hope you can forgive me.” Izuru said. There was a lowness in his tone he got when he felt guilty.

She reached to hold his face. She feared he would slink away from her touch, or grab her hands and toss them aside again. But he leaned into her palms like they were his only support. Her shoulders trembled as he sobbed without tears, and he collected her in his arms. Renji and Shuuhei soon followed suit and they held each other.

It was a promise a thing like marriage could never live up to. We are here for you. We won’t leave you. We love you, thick and thin.

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #55: Swindle.

Written: 3/2/2017

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere? Are you famous or somethin’?” I hear that all the time, and its hard for me to go outside without people asking me similar questions, or staring me down, quietly trying to figure out where they know me from. Maybe its my face or something, I don’t know. I’m not famous at all, and I really haven’t done anything very notable, aside from several run in’s with the law when I decided to get my income by grifting people. Sure, I may have conned a couple of people, but it was never anything big, or morally bankrupt, just small time stuff, believe me. I don’t do nothing to anybody that doesn’t deserve it.

Then again, if anyone falls for my tricks, then you know that they deserve it.

One of the best things about the way I work is that everyone always tends to think that I’m somebody else, I have one of those faces that resembles every face. “Hey, didn’t we go to high school together?” Why yes we did, and I can see you’re doing very well for yourself, but I’m in a bit of a deep end. I was doing great until my wife died from ovarian cancer, and now the governments taken all of our money in death taxes, which leaves me unable to pay for the funeral. “Hey, aren’t you on that television show about the female detective?” Why yes, yes I am, and I will give you an autograph for twenty bucks. Okay, I never said I was good at my job, I’m very small time, believe me. The only time I can make money off of people is when they approach me, thinking that I’m somebody I’m not, and everything I try to do just doesn’t work out too well.

I think the worst part is that I’ve never even failed in a spectacular manner, and my highs are pretty similar to my lows. Either I get around $20, or somebody refuses to pay me and just walks away, nothing of interest, nothing to really even talk about. I guess I should be pleased about how entirely forgettable I am, since it does wonders in my line of work, but sometimes I wonder if I really even should call myself a con man, a swindler, grifter, pretender, smooth talker, hustler, swindler, charmer, fake, louse, whatever you want to call me, I’m probably not. I’m no more than a mere opportunist, and everyone worth their salt creates their own luck, instead of waiting for it to happen to them. Woe be to me, the world’s lousiest conman! I am of such low repute, and my story is of so little of interest that you’ll forget about it after hearing of it! A couple minutes later the tale will completely leave your mind, and you will move on with your life, forgetting a forgettable man such as myself, vaguely familiar due to his lack of defining features.

Now, all of this misery led me to fall into a deep depression, which I eventually tried to keep at bay by exercising. Every day I lifted weights until I was too sore to even worry about how little I was worth worrying about, and all I had to do to get inside of the gym was to use a membership card that I found outside, on the ground. I looked vaguely like the man on the card, and they let me in without any questions. It may have been the biggest con of my life, worth hundreds of dollars with the year’s membership it carried. The second biggest con was when I lied to myself, saying that working out made me a happier person. The year spent doing this was completely forgettable, just like myself, and is not worth mentioning.

Well, there was one bit in the year that I guess could be considered something of importance, or interest, and it was when I met the steroid salesman who lurked around in the locker room, and he had mistaken me for one of his clients, and handed me a large shipment of his that had already been prepaid for. All I had to do was walk up to him and say, “Hey, did my package finally arrive?” and he assumed that I was one of his customers. A pathetic grift for a pathetic man such as myself, having to swindle drugs. You can’t call it very important, because no matter the monetary price of what I had swindled out of the possession of that vulgar man, I instead paid the price through addiction, anger, and a large amount of broken possessions. I can not tell you how many mirrors I had punched during that year, but I can say there were a lot. It must have given me such terrible luck, a lifetimes worth, because of how poorly my life had become when my training had ceased.

All bulked up like an action figure, I was finally ready to begin the scam that I had been planning throughout that year. I mean, well, its not like I was planning it too much, and it really wasn’t my idea in the first place, because I’m really not very good at these sorts of things. What happened was a man, that’s right, a tall, charming fellow with a voice perfect for radio, and a face for movies, he came up to me when I was at a restaurant, and he asked me if I knew him from somewhere. Yes, this is what happened. And I tried to get him to at least pay for my meal, claiming that I was a war hero, or some other sort of pathetic lie, and he saw right through me, but he knew that I looked perfect for a con that he had planned for quite some time. It was just another instance of me being an opportunist, a kite in the wind, a jellyfish in a sea of swindlers, only able to bob up and down and having to travel wherever the currents take me. It was just another random occurrence in life, and I had no choice but to go along with it, and I was sure that something so intelligent, genius, extravagant, something that a real master of manipulation would only be able to come up with, well, it was certainly art, yes, so why didn’t I go with it? You would have chosen to do the same thing, because its not every day that we get to work alongside the intellectual elite.

So, I start working with this dashing stranger to do the job that he had presented to me, and that I had in no way come up with myself. I’m too pathetic to think of something so grand. He told me about how wrestling had been making a huge come back, and with my age, appearance, and size, well, I could certainly pass myself off as some old wrestler coming back to earn his former glory. It wasn’t unheard of, and the people who were mainly into wrestling now had little knowledge of the very old stars from back in the day, so all I-we had to do was simple.

First, he hired some other big lug, and we dressed him and I up in some old style wrestling get ups, and we did a couple fights. Sometimes we had the other man change outfits so that we could pretend that these were all footage from different fights, and we even rented out this older boxing ring, then used trick photography to imply there was a crowd out there, when it was mainly bleachers full of cardboard cut outs and mannequins. The man who came up with this must have been really smart, dedicated, and impressive in the field if he was not only able to put all of that together, but also make it so that people actually believed-when they were placed around the internet-that the faked matches had been genuine. I must say that even I would have been fooled by the whole display, and I guess that shows that I am no more of a conman than a victim myself. The most impressive part was the camera and film that he used, which made it really seem old school, and gave it that found footage effect.

We also made a couple videos of myself, or my wrestling persona-Wild Card-yelling at a camera about made up beefs with other wrestlers. The names I would yell out were a mix of real ones and fake ones, so it would show that there were some credible names for these younger people, but would also display to them that there were other forgotten and obscure figures out there, lost to time since they were big in a world where the internet never existed, and obscurity was a bottomless pit. This was probably the best part of the whole act, even if I did have to memorize the man’s scripts, since I am terrible at improvising duologue, but it doesn’t matter who wrote it, its still fun to yell things such as:

“Mad Gator, you slept with my girlfriend and her mother, so now I’m going to get you in the ring or outside, its your choice. I’ll skin you and turn your shoes into a nice pair of shoes, that I will use to walk around carelessly in a yard full of dog shit.”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, I’M SO FUCKING ANGRY AND YOU CANNOT STOP ME FROM TEARING YOUR HEAD OFF IN THE RING!”

“Hogan, you tan son of a bitch, I’m going to pay you back for giving my daughter that abortion. I kidnapped your father and have hidden away his heart medication, so even if you free him from my thugs, you wont be able to save his life unless you meet me in the ring!”

On top of all of that, we also paid fake news sites to start posting articles about Wild Card’s downward spiral, due to his son dying in the war, which only reminded the wrestler of all of the young men that he saw die in Vietnam, and which led him to step out of the ring for good. It was a very sad story, even if it was a little pandering to veteran crowd, but I still am very proud of the work, that the guy who brought me in on the con did, and I can only wish that I would be able to write so well. I swear, if that man wasn’t spending all of his time tricking poor saps into giving him their hard earned money, then he would probably be able to do so much other amazing things with his life. It makes you think that the man has to love what he does, because he could easily become a millionaire just by playing it straight.

Anyways, there’s also some rumors that were placed around, talking about Wild Card’s interest in returning to wrestling. There’s some stuff about how he saw the light of the lord, and now he’s almost ready to face his inner demons in the ring, using the power of Christ to absolve himself, and blah blah blah. I would judge the guy for pandering this hard, but nowadays its really the easiest way to do things. Hell, it hasn’t been this easy to manipulate people since 9/11, but then again what do I know? The only thing I can pander to is somebody who mistakes me for somebody else. Pandering is the art of creating a situation, opportunity, a cause, while I am a slave to opportunity, and can only find it when it falls into my lap. After the story was put out there, we started getting all sorts of fan mail, saying how they wanted Wild Card to get back in the ring, saying how inspired they were by him. One man even wrote about how the character used to be his childhood idol, but I suspect his mind hadn’t been too solid, but money is money.

Then, while we have all of this momentum behind us, we did the next logical step, which was setting up on one of those crowd-funding sites, to get enough money to rent out a large arena where Wild Card could have his big come back match, as a way of his return to wrestling. The price we needed was much more than it actually cost to rent out the place that the man had in mind, so when we reached our goal there was already some extra cash in our pockets, plus when we went over it we were basically rolling in dough. I was shocked, because that’s the most money I had ever tricked out of anyone in my entire life, and I don’t think I could be able to get anywhere near that amount again. Although, there were a couple snags when some people tried to call the match out on what it was-a scam-but somehow this only made our fans even more devoted to the match, and they started claiming that everyone who called it a scam were actually scammers, and somehow threw politics into there for good measure.

“You think being a veteran was a scam? Go out and die for the country, and then try to say how much of a scam this all is!”

“Why do people keep trying to call this fake? What are they trying to cover up?”

Or my personal favorite: “This man lost his son. HIS SON. If he was lying to all of us (just like the lieberal media) then why did he drop out of wrestling all of those years ago? Why would he have to trick people out of money if he could’ve easily been bigger than Hogan? You know what’s a scam? Sending donations to the Democratic party, now that’s a scam. You guys think anything outside of your echochanmber is made up, when rational people know to call it what it is: THE REAL WORLD.” I don’t even know what that person was even talking about, but they donated $126, so God bless them. ———————————————————————————————————

Now, when it came to the day of the match, my plan had been really simple: take all of the money from the tickets that were sold, no refunds, and then board a flight out of the country. Everything else had been going as I had planned it, so why would this go any different?

Nothing but cheering could be heard from inside the arena, the place was packed not only with people, but with noise, with hope, and I was hearing that there weren’t even enough seats to hold everyone, so people were sitting in the aisles, stairs, everywhere they could be fit. The mastermind behind it, that suave bastard, told me that he bribed the staff to ignore the fire code, and anyways he said that if the place burned down then it would all be even better. If people died in the fire, then there would be less people to call it out as one big hustle, and then we could stage a second match in honor of all of the fans who died. This was when things started to look bad for me, and I was realizing how hard it was going to be for me to go through with the guy’s plan, I didn’t want to disappoint all of those kind people out there, but he was better than me, he was a real con artist, and he convinced me to go through with it.

Sure, there have been stories in the media that are claiming that police were investigating the match, suspecting that it was all a ploy to take the money and run, so that’s why I ended up going through with the match, and ended up in my current condition, but that’s not true at all. They even claim that I was the one behind all of it, but as you have seen, I am in no way capable of being able to pull off any of this. In order to clear my name, and prove that I am a victim of circumstance, I will tell you why I ended up fighting in the ring, and why I am where I currently am.

Now, the guy I was supposed to wrestle against was one huge mother fucker. He was like a mountain on steroids. His teeth were completely made of metal, and he had earned the name “The Compacter”, because he had reportedly crushed another wrestler, with his bare hands, and the guy not only had to go to the hospital, but due to spinal damage he was also six inches shorter than he was before that dreaded match. If there was ever a villain in wrestling, then this guy was the man who the villain was afraid of. You get the point, and you can also probably tell why the ringleader had chosen him for Wild Card’s come back, even though I had to have it explained to me three times before I was able to piece it all together. I’m surprised the guy was so patient with me, it really took me a long time to understand the scheme since I’m really just not cut out for that line of work.

So, the both of us have our bags, are dressed up to not gain any attention, and we’re all ready to skip town with all of the money from the big match. Problem is, I’m already guilty about the magnificent scam that we were about to pull off, and on top of that I see the Compacter getting ready for the match, and he’s talking to his kid. First its a sweet moment, and I sort of feel bad for how great of a father he is, but there’s no reason to risk death with a man just because he’s good to his kid. He was already paid anyways. What I saw afterwards really led me to stay, because I saw him flat out clock his own child in the face, and the poor thing is sprawled out on the floor, blood gushing from his nose, she’s-that’s right, it was his daughter-crying quietly, probably because she didn’t want to anger the beast any further. As this awful, horrible, gut-wrenchingly tragic scene plays out, guess what the monster is doing? He’s laughing his head off, that’s what.

In order to stand up to this cruel man, this bully-not because I would’ve been arrested if I tried to flee-I had to face him in the ring, to hopefully show him that he can’t treat children like that. Somebody had to stand up for the ones who can’t protect themselves, and I knew I had to be that person. Don’t call me a hero. What I did is what anyone, any Christian, should have done, and I’m glad that I did my part, even if I paid dearly for it. Sure, I might have been hospitalized for quite some time, and I’ll never be able to walk right again, but in my heart I know that I had done the right thing, because I was able to cast away my life of sin, and was able to stand up for everything that was good and righteous. If we allow evil to spread around the world, unpunished, then doesn’t that make us evil? Who are we to judge horrible deeds if we do not risk everything to seek justice?

Now, you might be wondering why there were no reports of the mastermind that I have talked about, but that’s because he is also a master of disguise, and was able to slip past the police with no problem. I heard rumors of him being able to forge passports, and he is most likely living in some foreign country under some fake name. You can tell that he is a very dangerous man, because he was able to pin many of his other schemes onto me, but like I have demonstrated, I am just a victim of chance. The only reason that they claim I have swindled all of those people, were involved in all of those multi-million cons, was because they never had pictures of the real expert, the man who got me wrapped up in this awful business, and I was the only one who was left behind.

Is this the price I should have to pay for doing the right thing, the just thing? Should I have to spend my time disabled, risking time in prison for crimes that I did not commit, all because I was a victim of a con myself? No, that cannot be right, and that’s why I must implore you to donate, because if I cannot build the funds for an appropriate defense, for private detectives to track down the real swindler, then he will only continue to trick the unsuspecting out of all of their hard earned money, and I will rot in jail in his place. Does that sound like justice to you?

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

Tell Me No Lies

(Welcome to Director’s Cut, where the porn advertisement blogs won’t stop coming. Seriously, what kind of horn dog do they think I am, and how close are they to the truth? Tumblr wants to know if I should let you all answer that question, but I’m not gonna let you. Instead, I’m gonna talk about TV shows.)

(I’ve been seriously getting into Lie to Me, lately. It’s a show starring that one guy from Reservoir Dogs who gets shot, only instead he’s a genius psychologist who mastered the art of reading people’s facial cues and uses it to solve mysteries. It’s a good show, as long as you ignore the subtle hints of what I’ve termed “Chuck Norris Syndrome.” You know what I’m talking about. That thing that happens when the lead actor or a family member of the lead actor “just so happens” to be the producer, and the show “coincidentally” likes to paint the lead actor’s character as an untouchable superman who can get away with pissing off the FBI and who sleeps with a new hot babe every three or four episodes. It’s not even that big a deal, mind. I just thought it was kind of funny to notice.)

(Which leads us to the fanfic itself. Andie O’Niell decided, in a flash of brilliance, that a Lie to Me Fanfic deserved no better name than “Tell Me No Lies.” It’s like a Reservoir Dogs fanfic entitled “Dearth Cats.” And naturally, it’s about characters and their love lives, because it’s fanfiction and of course it’s about love lives. Good stuff. Let’s get things started, shall we?)

Tell Me No Lies

By Andie O'Neill

Rating: K+

Genre: Friendship, Romance, Drama, Angst

Pairing: Eli/Ria (Friendship), Cal/Gillian (They didn’t put a parenthesis here. What kind of pairing is Cal/Gillian? I choose to believe “Partners in an upcoming cheese-related business venture.”)

Summary: Ria can see through his lies, and she knows everyone else can too, but why won't they tell Gillian? 

A/N: This was just a little something I thought of during class. Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own the show or it's characters.

(Can I just go on a bit of a tangent, here, before the story starts properly? Disclaimers don’t work. At all. I saw these all the time. Hell, I probably used them myself, constantly. But they’re in no way a defense against copyright infringement and all the stuff that comes from it, in the same way that robbing a bank isn’t okay if you tell the bank clerk “I don’t own the money that’s in this bag with a dollar sign stenciled on it.” The reason your fanfic isn’t gonna get taken down, though, is actually for a much simpler reason than your display of legal prowess: the original creator doesn’t know you exist. And if they do, they don’t care. At least, not enough to want to go through the trouble of filing a cease and desist. Anyway, tangent over. Proceed, Andie, m’bud.)

"Disgust," Eli Loker whispered in her ear, and Ria immediately turned her heard, not quite sure what he was talking about. One minute she'd been watching Doctor Foster's husband lie to her once more and the next… (and the next thing she knew, the room was filled with live, wriggling octopi.) oh. Eli had smug smile on his face at having caught her so quickly. Ria wasn't sure, bit it seemed like a game to these people, catching each other in their lies and then celebrating each victory. Ria had yet to find the humor in their games, often played by Doctor Lightman himself. (That is, when he wasn’t busy pretending to be an inmate so he could talk to a serial killer, or convincing a man to get out of a tractor and risk setting off what could very well have been a bomb, or getting caught at illegal fight clubs, or that time he...)

"That's the fifth time he's lied to her in two weeks. How do you stand it?" she asked, following him down the hallway towards Eli's office… if you could call it that. (Having had no job more prestigious than “baggage checker at the TSA” in her life, up until now, Ria Torres was naturally incredibly sniffy about what constituted the work space of successful people.) "How can she fall for it?"

Eli simply shrugged, and Ria noticed a glimpse of sadness cross his face. "Some people prefer the lie, Ria. If Gillian wanted to see it she would."

Of anyone in the group Eli was often the easiest to talk to. Despite his pathetic attempts at flirting, he was always open and honest. He never held back, and Ria had to admit she liked that about him. There were no pretences. He spoke what was on his mind. (It was almost as if he had been introduced to her as practicing something called “radical honesty.” Her memory of things that happened a few weeks ago was a bit fuzzy.) "Doctor Lightman won't tell her," Ria said at loud. Lightman called her a natural, only she knew less about the science, though she'd certainly been working her ass off trying to learn it. She'd watched Lightman's pupils dilate, noticed the way his skin flushed when Gillian got too close. All signs pointed to arousal… attraction. (Not arousal. Never arousal. Ria would honestly rather die than think of Cal Lightman as a sexual being.) What Ria couldn't figure out, was why he held back when it was so obvious he felt something for her.

Eli nodded. "Of course he won't. It's not his place."

Torres turned around to face the taller man, disturbed by his words. (”Go away, Slender,” she told him. “I’m trying to have a conversation, here.” Slenderman left, continuing his creepy muttering, while Ria rolled her eyes and turned back to Loker, who was tall, but certainly shorter than the office nut-job.) "So you're saying if I was dating a jerk who was probably cheating on me you wouldn't say a word?"

Eli smiled. "That depends… am I the jerk or is it someone else?"

Ria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You wish."

"I certainly do," he agreed.

Ria moved out of his way, following him down the hall once more. "Eventually she'll figure it out, and she'll want to know why we never said anything."

Eli shook his head. "She won't need to wonder. If she wanted to know… she'd know." She couldn't disagree with his logic, (because it was too ridiculous on its face to even entertain,) and that seemed to infuriate her more than anything. He was right. Foster had the training. She knew the science. "Sadness," said Eli, pulling Ria from her thoughts.

"What?"

"Sadness."

(Ria really couldn’t understand the appeal of this game. Playing “gotcha” with emotional cues was petty enough, but when nobody was lying to anybody, and they were just having a conversation, it was arbitrary and mean-spirited to constantly remind each other that they were all walking lie detectors. At least in theory. In practice, Loker kind of just looked like a moron for being so proud of the fact he could read what was already there, plain to see, without any sort of deception on her part. He might as well have been pointing at the doors and saying “Door!” with that same smug little grin.)

Ria sighed as they reached his office, leaning against the door frame. "Lightman… he cares about her… doesn't he?"

Eli takes a seat at his desk, rolling his chair around as he grabbed the video from their latest case. "Funny isn't it? They're the experts and yet they still end up just as clueless as the rest of us."

"I wouldn't exactly call that funny, Eli." And this time it was Ria that was calling him out. "Regret," she whispered.

Eli simply nodded, looking into her eyes. (”Nice try, but regret isn’t exactly a readable emotion. It’s a bit too complex. Sadness, on the other hand...”) "Look closely enough and you'll see it in them too."

Not for the first time, Ria wondered if the job would ever get easier, or if she'd ever get used to it. It wasn't easy being picked apart day in and day out. "Does it ever get any easier?" Gillian had been telling her time and time again that it did, but Ria had never been so sure. (That it got any easier, that is. Just trying to get that point across, real clear-like.)

Eli looked away, turning on his computer. "Nope."

It wasn't exactly the answer she was looking for, but she knew right away that it was the truth, (insomuch as one person’s opinion could ever be considered the truth,) and suddenly she could understand why Gillian seemed so content believing the lies. "We all claim we want the truth, that we don't want to be lied to… but somehow I get the feeling even that in itself is a lie."

Eli's smile immediately returned. "You know Ria, I think you're gonna fit in here just fine," he told her turning on the video.

"Right," Ria muttered, pulling a chair to sit beside him. They had work to do. As she looked out the door she could see Lightman walk by, talking to Gillian about their own case, and she silently wondered if they'd ever open their eyes and accept the truth. Either way, Eli was right. It was just something they'd have to figure out for themselves. If they'd rather believe the lie, than who was she to crash their beliefs with reality? (It’s not like she worked for a boss who would ever tear down illusions with an almost maniacal level of fervor, making enemies of everyone, up to and including the FBI, and regularly putting his and everyone else’s lives and careers in jeopardy in the process, because his precious truth was more important than maybe like one iota of discretion. That’d be a trip and a half, to have to deal with.)

"Acceptance," Eli pointed out, and the smug smile had returned. (”It’s the one part of the grieving process I’m having trouble with. My poor guinea pig was just taken from the world too soon, Ria. It’s a miscarriage of justice!”)

This time Ria did roll her eyes. "Just play the tape, Eli."

Eli laughed, pushing the DVD into the computer, the smug smile only growing with his triumph. (At least until he knocked over the monitor and sent it crashing to the ground. Lightman would spend the next hour and a half chewing him out, wondering out loud how a college educated scientist would ever be so bloody stupid as to think that you play a DVD by literally pushing it into a computer, like it’s just gonna meld into the screen or something.)

The End

[blazerina]

angst with ethan that ends all cute and snuggly

Okay girl - here’s some angst that ends snuggly, but I know it’s definitely not 100% in line with what you had in mind when you requested this. 

Open Heart // Ethan Ramsey x Allie Valentine (MC)

author’s note: this is kind of sad – not sure where it came from but it made me get a li’l emo at the end…sorry I can’t write fluff anymore…I don’t know what’s wrong with me!

word count: 3084

summary: ethan struggles within himself to figure out his true feelings for allie (MC).

--

Ethan was angry. His normally brisk pace was even faster today as he made his rounds and checked on his patients. He felt how stiff he was holding his own neck and shoulders when he bent down to get a drink of water from the fountain next to the nurses’ station.  He knew their desk was the “gossip hub” of Edenbrook and today was no different. The chattering. The whispering. The laughing. Everything had him on edge. Even the orderlies and interns seemed to be cackling about something. He was pretty sure he knew what it was.  He had to get out of there.

Instead of eating on his lunch break, he decided to go for a quick run. He had a favorite path through the park, about a block from the hospital, that he followed countless times before. It was always his “go to” lunchtime activity when he felt extra tense, or too stressed to eat a decent meal.  

He opted out of using his ear buds this time.  He wanted to clear his head without a distraction. That seemed to be his problem lately – he was too distracted.  He was longing for the days when all he had to worry about was himself; when he could focus on his patients and his work while he was at the hospital, and then go home or do whatever he pleased in his free time. It felt like forever since he had the freedom to just be. All his spare time, every waking moment, his head and his mind were filled with thoughts of her.

Ethan’s muscles knew the way having run that trail so many times before, it was as if his body’s memory took over, leading him around every bend and up and down every hill. The energy built up inside of him made him feel like he could run it five times over. He wanted to keep going…and going…and going.

Regrettably, lately he even noticed that he was slipping when it came to his patients. He had missed obvious details in a case a few days ago.  That never happens.  Not to Doctor Ethan Ramsey.  This really could only be explained by his intense focus on one fact - he never expected her to be so cold.

When he told her that what they had was in the past and they had to be professional now, he thought it would be easier than this. He expected her to pout or sulk, maybe look for excuses to see him or manufacture moments that would ensure subtle and secret exchanges with each other, but she always remained steadfast.

It was as if as soon as the word professional was uttered, Allie was shut down and turned off. The Allie he knew and had fallen in love with, ceased to exist.  She was a damn good doctor and still relied on him to be her mentor and guide, especially now that she was working with him on his team, but something was different. The look in her eye was distant, she steadied herself and steeled herself in a way that surprised him more than he cared to admit.

There were moments he wanted to linger, especially when they found themselves alone with each other, but just as he had asked, she kept it professional.  And that’s what it would take for both of them to continue to be successful. This is what proper and honorable medical professionals did – they put everyone else first and resolved within themselves to make sacrifices on behalf of the greater good.

As Ethan slowed up his jog, returning to the hospital, he was more out of breath than normal.  He checked his own pulse and realized it was much higher than he was used to on one of these more simple runs. Rolling his eyes, he was still frustrated with himself, especially as he remembered the newest buzz he’d been hearing all morning from the gossip mill.  With a heavy sigh, he moved quickly to the locker room and showered. His plan was to hunker down in his office the rest of the afternoon and hope he wouldn’t be bothered.

--

It wasn’t long before a quick knock on his office door, disturbed him from his thoughts. He had read and re-read the same line in the medical journal he was studying, at least 4 times.  

“Come in.” He barked, more forceful than he intended.

“Ethan – there you are – hiding in here again today?” Naveen beamed, appearing in the doorway as bubbly as ever, reminding Ethan of a male version of the fairy godmother in Cinderella.

Naveen’s voice sing-songed like a nursery rhyme and he seemed extra cheery for some reason. Ethan suspected he had also heard the rumors, but didn’t feel emotionally capable of handling a deep, honest, raw conversation with his mentor and friend today.

“Cut the crap, Naveen. What do you want?” He snarled, opening a drawer and pulling out his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, before putting them on.

Naveen’s brow furrowed as he crossed his arms over his chest and studied his protégé. Looking over his shoulder to ensure Ethan’s office door was closed, he moved closer to his desk and looked down his nose at him, waiting in silence for Ethan to speak again.

“Look – I know I’m being short and you’re going to lecture me, but can we do this some other time? Frankly, I’m not in the mood.”

“There are days I’m not in the mood either, but I don’t go around treating everyone like second-class citizens.” Naveen chided.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is?” He sighed and settled into one of the dark leather lounge chairs facing Ethan’s desk.

Ethan rolled his eyes and removed his glasses after letting the journal fall to his desk with a loud smack.

“Don’t you have more important work to do? You’ve gone and left me high and dry to deal with this “situation…” Ethan made quotation marks in the air, “on my own, so I’ll just take it from here.”

He huffed, clearly agitated, but looking Naveen in the eye.

Remaining calm and completely unphased by Ethan’s theatrics, Naveen replied, “Excuse me. I left you high and dry you say? Ethan, need I remind you that YOU are the one who left for two months, completely unannounced and unexplained.  So, who exactly left who?”

Ethan was not expecting him to push back with such logic. Defiantly, he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. This has been a well thought through plan that you’ve been watching unfold right before your eyes, even as far back as the hospital bed I kept you alive on in quarantine, months ago.”

“You and Dr. Valentine kept me alive, just want to correct you there.” Naveen chuckled, pointing out the one person, or situation, that Ethan did not want to discuss.

“Dammit Naveen, I said not now. I don’t have time for this.” Ethan walked towards the large glass window that overlooked the park where he ran a few hours earlier. He wished he was still there.

“Ethan…” Naveen, cleared his throat, “If I may…”

“You may not.”

Ignoring Ethan, Naveen kept going.

“For someone who relies so heavily on the facts of any given situation to lead you to the truth, you are making an awful lot of assumptions.”

Ethan fixed his gaze outside, not wanting Naveen to see any hint of emotion or feeling. He couldn’t let the man know he might be right.

A silence settled over the two men, hanging in the air that now felt pretty thick between them.

Quietly, Naveen offered, “With Harper this was never an issue. Why does this professional situation appear to be causing so much strife now?”

Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Snapshots of Allie flashed in his mind. He didn’t have a good answer. Words failed him at trying to explain this “situation” to anybody.

“It’s different and you know it.” He grumbled, turning away from the window to face his friend.

“She…she has made her choice. I wasn’t so sure, but now it’s clear to me.” Ethan explained. “Everyone’s been talking about it all damn day, Naveen.  Haven’t you heard? She’s found someone else.”

--

Later that evening, Ethan was absentmindedly scrolling through shows on his television while nursing a beer.  Dejectedly, he sat on the couch, totally bored and disgusted with his current state. It wasn’t like him to recoil into himself like this. To sulk in his home and be full of self-pity. He hated what he had become. What she had done to him. What he had done to himself.

Smeone rapped on his front door loudly and suddenly, pulling Ethan from his thoughts, causing him to jump.

“Christ!” He cursed as he realized some beer had gotten onto his shirt. He glanced at the clock.

“11:17? What the hell?” Not bothering to look through the peephole, assuming it was a drunk college student at the wrong apartment AGAIN, he opened the door ready to give the person on the other side a very heated dressing-down.

He swung open the door and had to do a double take, not believing that Allie was actually the one in front of him.

“Are you insane?” He blurted out.

“Good to see you too. Can I come in? We need to talk.”

“Clearly.” Ethan held the door open wide enough for her to get by and then slammed it shut.

Allie whirled around with an angry look in her eye, referencing the way he banged the door closed.

“I didn’t mean for that to…be so hard…I just…” He sighed, already exasperated from the emotional ups and downs of his day.

“Look, I won’t drag this out or anything, but I need to know if this is what you want.”

Ethan was still reeling from all the beer he consumed, believing that Allie was actually in his living room, and also the fact that she was talking to him, not at the hospital, about what appeared to be…their relationship.

“Sorry – I’m not sure I follow…?”

“This.” Allie gestured to the large space between the two of them. “Did you spill something on your shirt?”

“I did.” He nodded. “Go on, Dr. Valentine.”

He crossed his arms over his chest to one, cover up the stain and two, show her he wouldn’t be intimidated. But why did he do that? Why did he bristle every time she was around? Why did he force himself to act like a pompous, arrogant, jackass whenever she challenged him? This wasn’t the way it had always been. Back to Naveen’s point earlier: what was different?

“Are you pleased, Dr. Ramsey? With this arrangement? Have I been professional enough for you?” Allie used air quotes when she said the word professional.

“I suppose I’d say I’m satisfied with how things are progressing, professionally,” Ethan emphasized, “however, it’s only been a few weeks so I don’t know that I can give a full review of my thoughts on the matter entirely.”

“Ethan.” Allie squared up to him and faced him head on, also crossing her arms over her chest.

“You know what I mean. Quit playing games.”

He swallowed hard. He knew that there were very few people in his life who cared about him enough to call him on his BS. Allie was one of them.

Relaxing a little bit, Ethan walked to the kitchen and Allie tentatively followed him.  Sitting down on a stool near the bar, Ethan reached into a cabinet for some glasses and offered her some water.

“No thanks, I won’t be here long.”

Ethan poured some bottled, sparkling water into a glass with some ice and took a sip. He leaned back against the counter and asked, “What are you doing here, Allie? What is it that you’re wanting…really?”

“I’m wanting to know if this is how it’s going to be.”

“How what’s going to be?”

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” She asked, a mixture of shock and sadness falling on her face.

“You are impossible.” Allie muttered under her breath before sighing and slapping her hands on her thighs.

“US – Ethan! I’m talking about US.  You and me. Is this how you want it? The professional thing. Me saying yes sir and you giving me the cold shoulder and US pretending that there never was an US.”

He wanted to speak. He wanted to say something but he had no idea what would come out if he opened his mouth so he didn’t. He kept quiet and let her continue.

“I don’t understand why you’re making this so difficult.” She stood up.

“I never should have come. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing, to be the good doctor who doesn’t let her feelings get in the way of anything…” Allie started moving towards the door when Ethan finally spoke.

“I heard about you and Bryce. Today. At the hospital. You have someone else now, someone better suited for you, someone who can give you the attention, the care, the relationship you want and deserve.”

Allie stopped in her tracks.

“There is no me and Bryce…” She turned around to face him. “At least not…yet and I don’t really know if that even really is a thing or not but I had to talk to you because I don’t…I can’t…”

“Move on.” Ethan finished the sentence for her, but his words sounded more like an instruction.

“Move on, Allie. It’s for the best.”

“Just like that?” She questioned, tears beginning to form in her eyes. “You can cut it all off that easily? Did it…did I really not mean that much to you?”

“This isn’t about me.” Ethan started, feeling himself about to ramble.

What a lie he was spinning. Everything was about him. The way he responded to Naveen. The way he treated the few people in his life he was closest to. His anger. All his emotion. The jogging. The isolating. This was all about him and he knew it. His choices had gotten him into this mess. There was only one clear way out.

“I want this to be about you and what’s best for you and your future.  You need to do your best to put whatever it is about us that you focus on…behind you…”

“I just want you to admit that it’s hard.” The emotion in Allie’s eyes and voice was enough to drive Ethan to his knees.

“After all we shared together and how vulnerable we’ve been with one another, why can’t you just admit that it’s not that simple? It’s not that easy to just walk away?” She questioned.

“I don’t know why. But I can’t. I can’t give in to my emotions on a whim. I must stay calculated and measured and have some semblance of order to my life, Allie.  I cannot live in chaos.”

Ethan paced a few times in the quiet as Allie studied him, letting out a sigh or two of her own.  He settled on the couch and grabbed the remote, about to turn the volume up on the television.

“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like…but I don’t have a lot more to say on this subject.”

His jaw tightened, every muscle in his face clenched. Ethan was afraid with one more word he’d let the dam inside him burst wide open and there’d be no going back. He had to think about her. He had to put her first for once, and not be selfish. As hard as it was, he had to willingly push her into someone else’s arms.

“I’ve always trusted you, you know.” Allie said, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Allie…” Ethan tried to interrupt her, whining a little and giving away his agitation with her. He did not want to hear her appeal.

“I trust you now, too. And if you really, truly think that me trying to move on…with Bryce…” she paused, watching his face for a reaction.

“…is what I should do…then I’ll do it. I’ll move on.  And I’ll make you proud of me and we’ll be part of the best damn diagnostics team in the country. I trust you that much. I’ve always looked to you for guidance and direction. This is no different.”

A strange peace settled over Ethan. He didn’t like and couldn’t even entertain the thought of Allie being with Bryce, but it was better than her still hurting or being sad about him. He could handle never getting over their relationship; but he couldn’t handle it if she still held on.  

This morning he had been wishing for her to not be so cold. He wanted her to want him again. Here she was in front of him, letting those walls down and he couldn’t do it. Maybe he missed the secret. Maybe he wanted something that was just for the two of them. Hand brushes here and there; looks across the table only meant for one another. The thrill of sneaking out of her apartment before her roommates got up…

It was all those things and more. He didn’t miss the game completely although he had to admit it was fun. More fun with her than anything ever was with Harper…but really, when it all came down to it, he just missed her.

“I think that’s a wise decision.” He sat up a little straighter and looked into her eyes. “Go for it. You deserve to be happy.”

Allie nodded, accepting his wisdom while biting her lip and looking at the floor.

“You said I could stay…” she offered moving closer to him.  She put her head on his shoulder and reached for his hand.

Allie placed Ethan’s arm around her shoulder and looked up at him. “I just want this…one more time.”

Ethan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, taking in the feeling of her next to him. The smell of her shampoo mixed with her makeup. Her dark red hair resting beneath his stubbled chin. Her hazel eyes sparkling and looking up at him as if he had given her the world, when all he’d really done is crush it.

He tightened his grip around her and thought to himself:

I just want this too.

But couldn’t bring himself to say it.