#its so goddamn sad and real

[duskdog]

I'm reminded of her conversation with Richard where they're talking about sex and she says something like "I don't mind doing it with you, but..." and he angrily takes that as the absolute burn that it is (even though she didn't actually mean for it to be, at least not consciously). Like yeah, within the context of the conversation, it's a fairly innocuous line. She's comparing it to turning tricks, which she hates, and trying to make the point that her reluctance to have sex with those other men doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't want to have sex at all. And there are a lot of reasons that she might actually be lukewarm about the idea of doing it with Richard, regardless of her actual sexual preference: spending her time sleeping with multiple strangers against her will probably doesn't do much for the sex drive, for starters. And she's a smart girl, she's clearly aware by this point, on some level, that she's being coerced and that sleeping with him is an obligation -- to keep him happy, to keep him saying that he loves her, to keep herself sheltered and fed and (relatively) safe -- that she can't afford to deny him very often. She's just had a terrifying experience where she was in real danger of physical harm or worse, communicates clearly that she's shaken up by it, and he still wants to fuck. Who could blame her for being less than enthusiastic in her expression of her general desire for him in that particular conversation, given the circumstances? But also. It could be read as a disinterest in sex with men, in general. (Or it could be read as both -- these interpretations aren't mutually exclusive.) It makes me sad that, if this is true, she probably has no idea. She's never been given the chance to have that natural growth and exploration of what her actual desires may be. She probably thinks that being "meh" about cock is just natural given her experiences with it, and wouldn't even begin to question whether or not there might be some other reason why she feels that way.

just saw someone say ollie would be pro lgbt (of course) but one of their points was that connor is literally ace "PLUS WHATEVER MIA HAS GOING ON"

GANG WE'VE FUCKING DONE IT. WE'VE TRICKED THE GENERAL DC POPULOUS INTO BELIEVING THERES EVEN A HINT OF QUEERCODING IN MIA'S TEXT

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

I do think Withers has a really subtle background character arc in bg3. Because at the start it is really clear he doesn't want to be here and he's being forced to clean up his mess by Helm and probably Ao. He doesn't really care either. Everything ends so nothing really matters, he'd like to go back to his paperwork now please.

Except he's stuck babysitting a bunch of traumatized dumbasses as they stumble into dealing with the most recent bad idea of his three fuck-up disappointments. So he brings them back when they die for a pittance, lets them pay for some vengeful ghosts to come back as flesh and blood to wreak bloody vengeance on the Absolute, and starts to... comment, on what's going on, as he follows them on their adventure.

Next thing you know Withers is like, doing things unprompted. He refuses to bring back Alfira (or Quil) but that's an act of compassion, keeping the poor girl from the Urge and letting her rest, his actual duty as a god of death. He tells Arabella to follow her destiny and does that thing to make her grief go away which honestly freaks me out but seems to be him trying to help her. He shows up at Moonrise and prompts us to consider why the Dead Three would want a bunch of soulless illithids that would give them no power, getting us to think of the big picture.

And by the end (especially if you do a resist!Durge playthrough) Withers is actively interfering and seems genuinely invested! He brings Durge back from the dead, free of their father! He encourages us before the final fight with the Netherbrain! He's real fucking smug that the Dead Three lost when he never seemed to care about the destruction they caused before! He throws a reunion party and many of his lines are genuinely touching or kind! Especially if a companion died permanently! He has tea with Gale's mom and Tara! He's like, socializing and shit! Yes, everything is temporary and we all die, but there's great beauty in fighting for that precious time and living it to the fullest!

Basically Wither's character arc is this meme, all because Helm made him go outside and touch grass.

[bl00dh0rs3]

God. God. God. Holy fucking shit i love Avatar so fucking much

[nomairuins]

had 2 take a break 2 think abt a different one of my princesses. back 2 it

[warmdrpepper]

YOU'RE IN CHINA??? What province? Also, I hope you're having fun.

right now im in xi’an in shaanxi!! i’ll be traveling all over the place, like i just did 3 days in beijing and then next is the zhangjiajie mountains! im here for a while because i figured i may never get the opportunity again so let me do as much as i can now.

and im having so much fun 😭😭 everything is so pretty and delicious. the only thing thats killing me is all the goddamn stairs

[kieren-fucking-walker]

Oldies Station is almost too much for me right now.

[holdharmonysacred]

Started writing a post about unit blorbofication and story depth in FE in light of the latest round of past FEs VS 3H VS Engage discourse, someone remind me to go back to writing it later when I get my brainpower back.

[sungie]

OHMYFUCKING GOD WHAT THE HELL WHAT THE HELL

i just ran out of tags . THE DETAILS IN HERE ARE SO SO SO DIVINE AND IM. like this is ur suna. i love ur suna

ALSO UR DIALOGUE IS ALWAYS SUCH A TREAT. U GET IT SO WELL. ITS SO HUMAN AND SO NATURAL. ABD THE TEXTS SPRINKLED IN TO ADD HUMOR AND THAT YOUTHFULNESS IS SO SO SO GOOD

to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader

you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.

slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481

It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 

You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 

What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 

So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 

“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 

The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 

You feel sick. 

“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 

You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 

“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 

Suna pauses. 

“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.

A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 

“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 

And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 

“Is that it?” You ask. 

A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 

“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 

As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 

An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 

from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN

from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home

from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow

amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT

from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that

from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 

from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today

from: you (21:12) ?

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION

from: you (21:18) Wht??

from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 

from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN

from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  

You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 

“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 

“Rintar-”

“I like you.”

You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 

“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 

It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 

Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 

You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 

You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 

So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  

amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!

sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice

y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 

sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat. 

[apollo-zero-one]

Too old to be a kid too young to be an adult just the right age to cry myself to sleep

[panlyv]

wtv

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

head in hands. accidentally looked at old instagram posts 8 injured 400 killed

[hussyknee]

Wonder how far I can prod libs into finishing their full thought bubble behind all this "harm reduction" "genocide is a single issue" "you don't care about marginalized people in the US" "dyou want fascism WITH genocide???" screeching.

Okay, class, say it with me: "I don't want to live in a third world country like the ones we keep destroying."

Because you know. The countries your war criminal leaders keep bombing and starving and destabilising and leeching dry? We don't have trans or gay rights or women's rights or disability benefits or environmental or labour protections. No one would want to live in our countries obviously. You'd kill yourselves before you had to live like we do. Sure, we're only like this because you keep us trapped in poverty and violence and we still have full, happy lives worth living despite it but that's because we're used to it! We don't know any better! Not like you! You know what you deserve and you shouldn't have to lose anything as a consequence of your own political choices! Your government is supposed to happen to other people! Not you! So like, yeah, it's bad that the poors are being massacred wholesale or whatever, but like. That doesn't mean you gotta die with them, y'know? And by "death" you don't mean actual genocide like what's happening over here but "death" as in "having to live like we do".

The trolley problem metaphor is so goddamn attractive to you because you see yourself outside the tracks, objectively assessing the situation and making the "tough" "moral" choice for the collective good. It's imperialist horseshit. You don't have a democracy and it's not a trolley. What you have is an imperial death machine running on an apartheid system that decides who gets fed to it and who gets fed by it. That's your "two tracks"— the colonized and the colonizer, the core and the periphery, the white and the coloured. "Harm reduction"? Have you counted how many fucking millions in and around the world your death machine eats to keep how many of you "safe"? But our losses are a foregone conclusion, a matter of course, a regrettable necessity. The only variable is yours.

Every political choice in 200 years of your settler colony has been "genocide AND". "Genocide AND women's rights". "Genocide AND workers rights". "Genocide AND fascism". "Genocide AND democracy". The difference is that for the first time in your history you're now watching it livestreamed to the entire world in real time 24/7, exactly as your colony is about to capsize under the weight of its own bloodlust. A sea change from when your parents threw parties watching bombs dropping on Baghdad and then spent twenty years watching movies about sad it made the soldiers.

How do you count the victims when we are numbers and you are people? You scream about trans rights in the US while Palestinian trans children don't have the right to reach puberty. OSHA for you but Congolese children have to die in mines. Reproductive rights for the US while Sudanese women are raped in millions. Yes, but it's always been "genocide AND" no matter what, right? Do we want to sabotage the party that has never fucking cared about us and don't now even with half their own country screaming at them on the off-chance they might possibly maybe one day do?? Why are we acting so mad like it's YOUR fault that you're fighting for your quality of life over our corpses?? Do we want YOU to lose your rights over it??

Yes, actually. We do. We want you to have a taste of the reality that generations on generations of your illegal illegitimate white supremacist occupation has inflicted on us just so your worthless hide can sit there and call our genocides a single fucking issue. And let's be real: that's what you're so fucking afraid of.

[haojun]

Nothing has made me realize what a complete control freak i am quite like the last 2 days have

[transmaverique]

[image id:

several screenshots of asks sent by the original anonymous asker. they read,

screenshot 1: so eventually they may go 'okay, maybe i should leave'--because, you know, if you're told that all your existence does is /hurt the person you're around/, you'd rather not do that anymore. and the response is 'see! i knew you'd leave! all you do is isolate trans women! so much for love every trans woman before it's too late!' ect ect ect. 2/5

screenshot 2: i GET why trans femmes/women may feel that way but it feels like certain discourse spaces only hype up that paranoia and catastrophizing. i think it results in a lot of trans women expecting-- and even 'testing' their afab friends thinking that innevitably they'll be the transmisogynists the internet said they'd be. waiting on baited breathe for when they'll be ganged up on. it's like the 'you see more red cars when you expect them' or whatever thing. 3/5

screenshot 3: of course, trans women are targeted in a LOT of ways in their own friend groups-- and like, obviously trans women have been horribly targeted elsewhere. and this isn't to dismiss those feelings-- but like... i feel like looking at your friend group and expecting them to attack you like wolves... isn't a healthy way to live. 4/5

screenshot 4: it becomes a very 'damned if you do damned if you don't' moment for everyone else that, from personal experience (with said person STILL convinced i am GOING to personally attack her at ANY moment when i've never indicated such and if anything just want her to leave me tf alone), ends up being an emotional hostage situation created because sometimes the internet convinces you it's better to act like caricature of your real self because vulnerability and honesty is the enemy. 5/5

end id]

(long ask there's gonna be a lot of parts-- if u get these please put them 2gether)i think specifically the thing w some transfemmes and paranoia around 'tmes' (usually trans men and afab nonbinary people lets be real) is it's like a really fucked up game of chicken. They (used collectively, like as in, the group) psyche themselves up for how they'll 'inevitably' get transmisogyny and hurt by their 'afab friends'-- no matter how much said friends may reassure them. 1/5

Yeah, that kind of thinking doesn't help anyone. It just perpetuates a constant culture of being afraid to say anything at all or approach anyone. It should be obvious that's exactly what we need less of.

[dearsnow]

TOO SWEET

- you discover that you mix a little too much sugar into your relationship, and jake seems to believe that he’ll turn everything sour. (jake seresin x fem!reader, angst, jake being an asshole when he thinks he’s making the right decision but what’s new, i had a real fun time writing the description ⚠️ drinking)

PART 2

word count: 785

a/n - angst city is back !! and yes there are parallels bc i’m in a parallel mood so yeah some lines are very very similar to each other. hope you guys enjoy, even though my first hangman-centric fic is a sad one lol. based on “too sweet” by hozier <3

You press your palm to Jake’s face, feeling his stubble rough against your soft skin. “You’re amazing.”

He has a pool stick in his hand, one that he sets down to pull away from your touch. Your face flushes as he takes your hand in his own and places his pool stick in your other, motioning for you to take a shot. “You’re too sweet, darlin’. Let’s prove to Chicken over here that you can be tough, too.”

“Too sweet” is something he’s called you more than once. You suppose it is true, with your gentle and kind demeanor. You just can’t help wanting everyone to be happy.

Jake Seresin is pretty much the opposite of that. He intentionally upsets people with a smile on his face, content in riling them up, and fond of perpetuating rivalries. No one ever understands why you’re attracted to him, especially not the other daggers.

You see the side of him that he rarely ever shows. The one that’s kind and caring, that understands when he goes too far and reels his aggressive personality back to shore. When he kisses you on the cheek or places his hand on the small of your back, you feel it too.

So, when he pulls you to the side of the Hard Deck, you assume he’s just going to give you another drawling compliment and skirt his hand between your shirt and the soft skin of your waist. You certainly don’t expect the words that come out of his mouth next.

“Hun, I think we need to stop seeing each other.”

Your heart stops dead in its tracks. “What?” You borderline squeak. No, this can’t be happening. Everything was so perfect just moments ago, and now the look on his face makes you want to cry. It’s laden with sympathy.

He holds your hands with gentle fingers. “You’re too sweet, baby. I don’t mean it in a bad way, but I mean, you’re way sweeter than I could ever be. You tell Rooster his shirt looks nice when it’s eye-bleeding and you mean it. I love that, I really do, but we don’t fit. We don’t make sense, and I want my relationships to make sense.”

“We do make sense.” You protest. “Opposites attract or something like that. We can make it work.”

“The thing is, we can’t. I’m gonna piss you off eventually, and you’re gonna forgive me, and it’ll just be toxic. I don’t want that for you.”

He lets go of your hands, and as the cool air hits them, they miss his warmth. His green eyes are tinged with something you could associate with sadness, just a hint of aching regret. His mouth twitches a bit, curling into his sun-kissed freckles. They wouldn’t be noticeable if you hadn’t looked at him so closely, if you hadn’t kissed along that same line a few nights ago. “And what about what I want, Jake? I want you. We can have a good relationship, I promise, we’ll find a way.”

“That’s what makes you so special. Your goddamn unwavering hope. I don’t want to crush that, sweet thing, but you have to know that it isn’t always going to work out.” His tone is softer now, but his words hit like the sharp end of a knife. You stare up at him, eyes watering.

“But-“

“It’s a no, baby. Just no.”

He turns, and for the first time, you don’t follow his movements. Your fists close around empty air.

It’s really happening. He’s explained how he doesn’t want you in a million honey-suckled ways, and more than anything, you just want to sink into his arms and cry. But you can’t, and you don’t. You move away, instead, out of the Hard Deck and out of his life, into the cold night air. When you reach your car, all you can do is sob into the shiny metal.

Jake watches you leave. He wants to run after you, to thread his fingers around yours and pull you into a kiss, but he can’t, and he doesn’t. It’s better for you, he tells himself. You sip on wine and fruity drinks while his neat whiskey is sitting on the bar, half-drunk. You deserve someone nicer, kinder, who kisses you goodbye and doesn’t scratch your face with stubble. He sees you lean against your car, forehead pressed to the car door, and he almost folds. He picks up his drink and turns to face Penny, who’s looking at him disapprovingly.

“I’m not good for her.” He tries to explain.

Penny sighs and reaches for the whiskey, topping off his glass. “You aren’t. I just wish you made it your problem instead of hers.”

Taglist: @seitmai

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WEARING IMAGINARY RINGS

touya todoroki x reader

you find your late husbands last words. his real last words.

mha official ending spoilers

part 3/3, part one, part two

inspired by fresh out the slammer

the news of his death came as a surprise to no one.

there was no long explanation, no teary eyes other than yours. it was simple: one day, he just couldn’t hold on any longer. he had succumb to his injuries from all those years ago. at some point, your husband, amidst the beeping of hospital machines and wiring, took his final breath.

his family was doing okay, or so you heard. rei was distraught, just wondering how this could have all been different. she cursed herself for ever bringing touya into the world, only to condemn him to suffer. fuyumi, like an eldest daughter would, tried desperately to hold it all together. natsuo didn’t show up until afterwards, and seemed angry at everything and everyone. shouto hardly spoke, but his silence was the perhaps the loudest thing in that room. no one could even look enji in the eyes. good.

and so instead of grieving with your in-laws, you sat on your living-room floor. the hard wood tiles seemed to grieve alongside you, as if wondering where touya was. this house was a home, and the floors loved to house both of you together. now, with just one person, it seemed incomplete.

touya’s blue jacket hung around your shoulders. you clutched it around your body, trying to savour the remnants of his scent. if you couldn’t save him, you’d save his clothes.

in the midst of your hands feeling the fabric, an unfamiliar sensation washes over your fingers as it wanders into the right pocket. its paper.

you slowly take it out, looking at its rather crumpled and old appearance. this must have been there for quite some time. smudged in ink is your name.

your breath hitches, but the desperation to hear from touya again washes over as you slowly unfold the paper. your hands shake slightly as you unfold the paper, as you’re immediately met with the sight of touya’s familiar handwriting. each letter loops and curls in a way that is uniquely his. the mere sight of his handwriting brings a fresh wave of pain and sadness, but similarly, a sense of comfort. his words on paper was almost like hearing his voice speak to you once again, wherever he was now.

Doll,

I don’t know when you’re going to find this, or if you ever will. But if you’re reading this now, it probably means something happened. Whether I’m still alive or not, I want you to know a few things.

First, I love you. So goddamn much. I never thought it was possible to love someone so much, to feel like they’re a part of me. And a part of me still doesn’t believe that you love me too. You’re an idiot for that.

I wanted to spend my whole life with you. Wake up next to you every day, hold you in my arms, kiss you, laugh with you, fight and make up and just.. be with you. But that kind of happiness isn’t meant for me. Not after everything I’ve done. But if there is an afterlife, I hope I’ll get all of that there.

I don’t regret what I did. Taking down Enji.. But I do regret leaving you. And If I could, I’d be running back home to you. To your shitty cooking, to you wearing my clothes. I’d finally agree to get all the cats you wanted, and I’d make more time for you. I was such a prick while I was around, but you loved me anyway.

And If I knew better towards the end, I’d learn from all these mistakes. I’d vow to never lose you ever again. I love you like that, doll. And I’ll never really understand why you love me. Why you’d deal with all the questions, how you’d disappear from your normal life for just a glimpse of my smile. Don’t know how I got so lucky.

And If I know my wife, I know that you’ll still wait up at the porch light. Remember all the times I’d run up to you, only after midnight so no one would find us. When I’m with you it doesn’t matter what I’ve done. If things were different, I wouldn’t have screwed up. If I knew I was gonna fall in love with you, I’d be a better man. What a coward I am, right doll?

I know how hard this is going to be, living without me. I know that you’re going to be hurting, that you’re going to feel lost and alone and like you want to just give up and be with me. And I don’t want you to do that. I want you to keep going, to live your life, to be happy. Please, for me. You have so much more to give and experience in your life, and I don’t want you to waste it.

I know this isn’t going to be easy for you, and a part of me feels like a goddamn coward for writing this instead of saying it to your face. But I just can’t bear the thought of seeing you cry, of seeing the pain in your eyes, of seeing the realization that this is goodbye on your face. I’m a selfish asshole, and I couldn’t handle it. So I chose the coward’s way out.

Keep my ring. If you do find some other asshole who loves you, just know I love you more. I know I told you to move on, but I’m a selfish prick. Whoever that guy is he can go fuck himself. You’re my wife.

Just promise you’ll keep living, for me. Keep being that bright, beautiful, kind, amazing person that I fell in love with. All those nights, you kept me going. I am so, so fucking grateful I got to love you while I did.

And one day, when it’s your time to go, come and find me in the afterlife. I’ll be waiting for you.

Yours,

Touya