#may 11th. lookin forward to it

[flfverse]

so btw it’s finals season for me but my last one is on the 10th and i’m moving out the 11th. my brain is too mushy for complicated longfics rn so apologies but it will likely be about that long until the new CTL chapter comes out. FF 11 i will try to put up next week since it’s already edited but there is a chance i will not for…idk. reasons. i don’t pretend to know how my brain works

however, my braincells are NOT too mushy to work on shiny new oneshots, so i’m taking advantage of that to build up a backlog to post during the summer hiatus.

currently in the works we have:

bakudeku sickfic/“getting together” (first year at UA)

bakudeku presumed death trope (age 20-21, so pre-CTL) (this one is basically finished i just have to figure out the actual wrap-up)

shinkami messing around platonically (first year at UA)

trans!sub!kiri Discovering Himself (1st-2nd year, also this one is complete woo)

trans!puppy!kiri (late 2nd year? i think?)

shintodo subdrop fic (2nd year?? 3rd??)

shinsou being adopted by erasermic (age 13)

those are just the current wips that i have started but not finished. my ideas list is MUCH longer. so those are things to look forward to! i am as always accepting ideas/headcanons/requests/whatever. no promises i’ll start or finish everything, even the fics on this list (i’ll try, though) because i do not control the brainworms. but yep, life update

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW2

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Havertz and Jota

IN (for -4 points): Bruno and Anguissa

Welp. Went from saving to hitting...such is life. As the age old adage goes, there's not better time to hit than the present.

Jota.. obviously a huge issue, on his way to livp, whatevs. That gamble didn't pay off not by a long shot. I looked around in the 6.5 and under bracket and while Podence is a guy....and I considered Foden again there...it just didn't feel right. I'm half thinking Trossard won't last for long on my team and that seems like a better spot to get Podence in if I want him so I opened my mind and looked at Kai more closely.

Realistically there are a lot of question marks around him, too many to go into here, as well as with Ziyech and Puli out the team is not at their best. I am taking an aggressive line here and getting rid rather than being patient through their easier fixtures gw3-5 so I won't really know if this was a good move until then.

Bruno is someone I've been having a hard time quitting. I seriously looked at hiding him in my GW1 team and I just want him. This move comes down to just wanting to get him more than anything else. It leaves my 11th man a fucking mess, but hey I got 10 out last week and it was fine. I've got Aubz outgoing after the whu game so I'll likely address this with a hit next week, or with my next two free transfers. I'm jamming in another premium asset so hoping that they prop up the dog shit guys at the other end of the team for the time being. Also with the Jota news into Livp it doessss kinda feel that Brewster might go soon? If that happens then suddenly this hit is just fucking brilliant and I start Brewster for the foreseeable. It's not nothing, altho it could be nothing, but just chattin. Just chattin fpl.

GK:

Ryan (new)

Newcastle looked good against West Ham last weekend so the clean feels a bit more tenuous than I had probably thought before GW1 started off. That said, Brighton are a good solid outfit and I am pretty happy with Ryan. Would never be surprised at a clean in this fixture, so hopefully it comes in.

DEF:

Dier (sou)

Everyone suddenly shitting all over Spurs but whatevs. Mou will probably go set up to park against Ralph and honestly I feel like Spurs are a good bet for a clean home or away against any non top 4 side in the division. It's just how they set up and after Southampton were a little off it against us last weekend maybe they continue to struggle and their press is fucked up with another possible miss in Redderz. Dier feels fine and happy I have him.

Shaw (CRY)

Pretty nervous about owning this thicc boi since it seems like they are actively shopping for a LB but as of this moment he's their starter. He played in that friendly thing against Villa the other day so hopefully he's ready to start. Hopefully we keep Wilf on the other side of the pitch so he doesn't get a card, but whatevs. If Manu don't sign a left back in the window he still feels like a good option. And if they do, and don't sign a CB, then I guess I can always laterally swap to Lindy even tho I hate him. Bottom line I still like the 5m price on Manu cleans as I expect them to get many this season.

Trent (che)

As we all saw, was being overloaded and a bit off the pace last game against Bielsaball. Not much to say about Trent here. Tough fixture, but it's Trent. Clean would be surprising but he's always got the shout for attacking returns. Steady hold.

MID:

Aubameyang (WHU)

Nice goal in the opening game against Fulham and another nice fixture against a team that is in disarray. These two games is why he's in my team and he didn't disappoint GW1 so hopefully that carries on into this one.

Salah (che)

The form man...just needs to remember to shoot on sight with the opponents not having a functional goalkeeper between the sticks and he should do just fine. Kinda feeling like Livp are going to disassemble Franklins team this weekend so feeling more hopeful for Mo points than I did a couple weeks ago when I saw this fixture on the slate.

Trossard (new)

Important game for this boy in my team and for what my thoughts are with him moving forward. I didn't select him thinking he'd be a medium term hold...more of a punty OOP cheap guy who I could throw out for a couple and then reassess who emerges but he might play his way into my side for a while yet. Newcastle far from convincing defensively with that 442 so if Bruce plays something similar I imagine that it could be open with some chances for Brighton in this one. I'm hopeful here and good for the boy to have bagged one in the opening game. Go on tr0ss.

Andre-Frank Zambo Anguissa (lee)

A man deserving of his full name to be noted here. Honestly got hot for Zambo after watching his cameo at the end of the Arse game after knowing about him from his time in Liga last year coming back from loan. He started and played 60odd midweek so I'm a little little bit nervous if he's ready for 90 but I'm hoping so since I just bought him in. He's classy and I like him. Probably no more than a 2 pointer kind of guy but he might have a little bit of license to get to the edge of the box and be an extra guy if he's playing with Reed and/or Lemina or some shit.

If he's still seeing the pitch in my fpl team in a couple of weeks...well I'll have been fucking up...so hopefully this is the first and last start he makes for my team :) Should be a nice first shield on the bench, though, which will probably be useful given that my bench is a laugh riot.

Bruno Fernandes (CRY)

He's in and I can now watch Manu games without persisting feelings of dread. Good fpl pick, good player. Long may the pens floweth.

FWD:

Werner (LIV)

No matter how fucked up Franklin makes the team and sets it up to fail one thing is certain from watching the Brighton game to me...this kid will get points. He's going to be a danger man all season and it would take a lot for me to remove him from my team it seems. Happy to hold him while they wait for the unfit lads to get fit etc. Good guy Timo. Love him.

Calvert-Lewin (WBA)

One of my better picks pre-gw1 happy to have him in for their nice little mini run of fixtures here. West Brom will be a lot better with Ivan but luckily he won't play this weekend. I'd be surprised if Everton don't score 3 or more so when that happens usually DCL will have something to show from it. Looks like a nice pick and a nice hold who I don't have to worry about or spend time thinking about.

BENCH:

Hide your eyes..

Brewster (che), Mitchell (mun), Ferguson(mun)

CAP:

Aubameyang (WHU)

Not really in question here. Give me the good guy against the bad team - not really much to think about here. Go on Aubz.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Alli

IN: James Rodríguez

Did this move before we even Friday My Life’d to beat the Alli price drop. Duno. I knew I wanted Hamez and also knew that seeing Alli/Pulisic in my team made me want to blow my brains out for being so fucking bad and dumb.

Guess I’ll be spending FTs righting my mistakes for the first few weeks of the season and then I’ll be behind and wildcarding.... and yeeeaaaaaahhhhh rinse and repeat nightmare season incoming yet again. I suck at FPL.

GK:

McCarthy (TOT)

Meh sure whatever. It’s cleanable but unlikely. Hopefully at least gets a save point here.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (che)

Good guys gettin’ forward. Maybe Thiago will allow them to get even more forward and less ball progression responsibilities..? Can see a world where Fabinho drops between the CBs and it’s almost a 3142 kinda thing. Duno. They’re great and I don’t really care about fixtures.

Justin (BUR)

Great fixture. Come on Justin do it again lad.

Shaw (CRY)

ManU’re doing everything in their power to get a new LB and fuck Shaw off (about damn time) but hopefully they fuck up all their transfer business as usual and Shaw remains the chosen one. TBD.

For now he’s a good pick and this is a great cleansheet fixture as long as Wilf isn’t running in open space against The Fridge.

MID:

Mane (che)

Mane good.

Rodriguez (WBA)

Hamez pleases me a lot. Happy to be early to the party here and hold him for a long time. AKA until I wildcard.

Pulisic (LIV)

Frank has blatantly lied in pressers before and he will lie again. I mean don’t get me wrong Pulisic is an absolute piece of shit. No question. But just hoping Frank is trying to “mind-game” Klopp (lolol) here and the Yank-cunt™ surprise starts.

FWD:

Martial (CRY)

Tony is love Tony is life.

Calvert-Lewin (WBA)

DCL made us so proud. He should be lookin to bang vs. WBA get in there Dom.

Werner (LIV)

Timo is really good. Nothing surprising at all there man. He’s just really good and I agree with Walsh he’s just gonna get points no doubt.

There’s space behind Liverpool who look to be starting slowly again at the back like last season and that’s the space that Timo will look to exploit.

BENCH:

Walker-Peters (TOT)

Probably coming in for Puli.. It’s not great but it is cleanable and he could also get an assist it’s fine. More likely is they lose 2-0 and he yellow cards Son. Can’t wait!

Reed (lee)

Smallbone (TOT)

CAP:

Martial (CRY)

Sticking with the preseason plan of capping Tony here. Go on Tone please do the things and let’s have none of the things come from Bruno assists, strictly Shaw assists :) :) :). Go on.

[awellboiledicicle]

The Boy Who Ran pt 2

This is a part 2 [part 1] [par to a short prompt based around “ Imagine that you show up in your favorite character’s universe, only for them to be missing. You ask the other characters about it, but they have never even heard of your favorite character. You soon realize that you’re supposed to play their role in the story/series”. I chose Harry James Potter. [Part 3]

Shoes. 

I really should have brought some shoes. Also, should have probably looked where I was going when I decided taking off into the night was a very good idea in terms of switching up my destiny. Perhaps some socks.  Hogwarts letters do not come with socks. 

They are, however, flammable enough to keep someone warm while you’re reading the other, less crumpled letters you grabbed. This was mostly me ruminating on the fact that, if i was sitting in the middle of.. not London? Maybe London. Possibly London. Memory blanks are a pain. Especially when trying to pull on memories decades back and you hit The Green Light. It was a nauseating feeling I couldn’t cope with in this body, not as Harry, not as a starving-- even more so now-- skinny, bony, and cold kid.  I needed to get in contact with Hagrid, or someone. The more I tried to think about it, though, think forward, my head hurt. So, change was allowed, but no gaming the system too much.  So, planning. I was in the middle of a city that i had to run and then dead exhaustion walk to, I wasn’t sure how many owls would come to me. How many could��without giving me or the wizarding world away-- the last thing I needed was the Durleys sending people out for me via “search for masses of owls”, or people tracking said owls.  If they were looking. Maybe they weren’t. 

Hogwarts would be looking, though. It’s been looking since I was left on the Dursleys’ doorstep, waiting for me to turn 11.  I either had to respond to a letter-- some how-- and tell them i need assistance, or wait it out. 

At that moment, I was curled up by a dumpster in an alleyway, sitting on a wooden pallet to stay out of the rainwater. It was colder than I had anticipated-- because of course it was-- and my stomach was growling to the point of pain. The upside of having to wear Dudley’s old clothes was that the baggy extra room let the heat I did generate build up, but the downside was that they got damp faster.  I tried to catch some of the owls that came that day, since they... appearantly took not having a quill and parchment to respond as denial? They flew off. I had no mice or anything to offer and that kinda pissed me off. Not really helping the “Contact Hogwarts” mission I had set for myself.  Keeping that in mind, I had to find food. You can’t wait for your birthday on faith alone.

After walking a considerable distance, and being reasonably sure I had picked up something from walking in the city barefoot, I was able to get food. I had tried asking around at places for stale bread at first-- that got me ran off with not unsurprising vigor. Eventually a synagogue, and then a mosque farther off gave me a small pack of food and a pad of paper-- they offered it for free, but I insisted on doing some cleaning inside for them. I think they let me if only because it had started to pour outside and was getting dark. The Rabbi of the synagogue let me sleep on a couch in the entryway, since everything else locked. Well, the reasoning was more I told him that I had no home and needed a soft place in the rain, and he said sleep there-- but before this whole thing, I know the security was part of the placement. It was soft and warm and good. Left over challa never tasted so good at 3am. 

Between cleaning at the mosque, the synagogue, and trying to not be too noticeable at a local park, the days toward my 11th birthday crawled. I spent many nights under benches in a park, wrapped in a tarp and hoping devoutly that no one would notice me. The Rabbi would still allow me in, but I’d cut it down to just the worst nights, really-- when someone had reported seeing me and I felt skittish, or someone had been unsettling. Rabbi had been kind enough to not say anything to anyone, after I told him the truth. Well, enough of the truth. That my parents had died and my extended family were supposed to care for me, but beat me and starved me and hated me. So I ran away from them. I didn’t tell him names, though. In case he called them and they came looking. It was unlikely, but it was a cautionary measure.

If the Dursleys’ had people looking for me, I didn’t see them-- likely because I have a general avoidance of authority figures. They may well have just washed their hands of the whole business, I reflected, as I tried to compose a proper reply/Letter of Request of Aid to Hogwarts that sounded like an eleven year old boy wrote it. They prefer to be viewed as perfectly “normal” after all, so my disappearance would likely warrant a celebration. Dudley probably got many more gifts he proceeded to harm others with and then break. Petunia was probably orgasmic over the fact she once again had more to gossip about than to have gossiped over. Vernon was likely still a purple lump of screaming, abusive, overpoweringly disgusting, vile, worms in a tie.

I was in the middle of doodling a rather impressive image of #4 Privet Drive on fire when I became vaguely aware that, approaching up a street toward the park behind me, were the sounds a heavy motorcycle makes when you’ve ridden it over things it really should not be ridden over one too many times. Like gravel, rocky terrain if it’s a smooth riding bike, or perhaps someone enchanted a thing one ought not have to ride in the air. And was riding it down a muggle street at dusk, toward a vaguely dirty, scrawny boy with a knapsack sitting at the edge of a park. And came to a stop by said bench, the gigantic rider swinging off and grinning.

This was was the point where I had to process in full the size of Hagrid and the motorcycle. Nothing before The Green did him justice-- hands the size of trashcan lids nothing, he could have palmed my torso. Then again, my torso was rather thin, so that might be saying more about me than him. He loomed over me as i turned to stare opened mouth, but not in a threatening way-- it was more that’s just how Hagrid was. He was big and tall and wide. His beard was worth about 5 heads of hair and every inch of my self control went into not poking it, because it looked bushy and bristly, like the hair on a favorite doll or like my own.  “There you are Harry! Been lookin’ for you all over!” He boomed warmly, again I feel not intentionally so much as that was just his voice. The warmth was nice though, and I was struck with how genuine the tone seemed. It took everything in my body to quench the immediate feeling that this man was trying to con me before he’d said anything of the sort. Warmth meant danger, it meant a trick. I had to remember through The Green that Rubeus Hagrid was a good man and I shouldn’t bolt. I suppose my look of confusion skipped him, or he was taking it in stride, because he continued as if I was quiet aware of who he was. “Got yer dad’s wanderin’ streak in ya, runnin’ all over the countryside, not answerin’ your letters! Got yer mum’s eyes though, must have ‘er smarts in there, findin’ you writin’ away! Lookit ya, grown so much since the last time I saw you! Then again, you was just a lil baby!” I had processed a similar scene before, mentally, and prepared to try to act through it.  But one cannot look at a very large man being soft and not be thrown. At least I couldn’t.  “Uh.. who are you?” I am the pinnacle of eloquence. He looked a bit surprised and chuckled, sticking his hand out for a shake and I finally understood the ‘shook his whole arm’ line. He looked concerned when I bodily tipped over and patted my back.  “Easy there, Harry. Name’s Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Grounds and Keys of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Call me Hagrid. Oh, that reminds me.” He then presented me with the slightly squashed cake. I think he was surprised when i proceeded to open it, plop back down on the bench and start eating it with my hands. I am not a proud person. Harry Potter is not a proud person. “Err.. Was going to say I sat on it but it’s still good, but ya seem to like it well enough!” “I haven’t eaten in a day an’ a half.” I said through a mouthful of cake, shoveling another handful in, and swallowing painfully. This was, sadly, only about ten percent to try fast-tracking getting to Diagon Alley and an inn. The other 90% was because I was telling the truth and was going to cry. The cake was overly moist, like it had been soaked in something, though it wasn’t bad. I was definitely going to have to wash in a water-fountain later. But dear lord did it hit the spot. “This is the best birthday ever.” Hagrid’s face darkened and his body language shifted drastically from ‘excited’ to ‘borderline angry’ and I froze. “What’d you say?” I swallowed and hurriedly closed the box, my heart starting to race. Oh no, oh no. Hello trauma response. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? It’s good cake, was I not supposed to eat the cake? I’m sorry for eating the cake.” “No, no-- Merlin’s beard-- It’s your cake Harry.” His voice was quieter now. He seemed to be processing something. With a look around, he put his hands in his pockets. “Harry, why’re you out here, hungry, an’ not in a house?” I blinked and looked around, before raising an eyebrow. “I ran away? Because it was better out here?” Hagrid was quiet for a while more.  “Have ya got yer letter, have ya read it? Do ya know what yer parents were, what ya are?” He’d come around the front of the bench and knelt down to be on eye level with me now, and looked very concerned. Bless Hagrid. Bless every single hair on his head, including his eyebrows and eyelashes.  And curse that I have to play dumb. “What I-- homeless? Some kinda freak?” “Freak? Who told you that?” He got angry for a bit and calmed himself when he saw panic flash over my face.  “The.. Dursleys? That’s why I ran away. They kept locking me in a closet and telling me to stop acting weird and hitting me when weird things happened.” He seemed to be boiling up around the edges, but letting me continue so he could rage later. “They always said my parents died in a car crash and I was weird like them, but i didn’t die. And that it was my fault. So I ran once i got the letter, just.. just in case there were people like me..”

Lying, something I was much better at than normal, but it was also true. Tell a kid they’re a mistake enough and that their parents were too, and don’t let them know more, and they draw conclusions. The conclusions being drawn in front of me right then, though, were likely that Hagrid was going to turn all the Dursleys’ into pigs or something. Or tell this all to Dumbledor and they’d all turn into bugs in a small terrarium. Perhaps that was my own wishful thinking. Definitely my own wishful thinking because about the time I finished that musing, Hagrid exploded into a full on explanation of everything-- I pressed for info here and there on Voldemort, a name i didn’t really fear to think, when prompted-- from my parents to Hogwarts. Even how Mcgonagall had pressed him to come looking for me early, which was good ‘if you been livin’ like this Harry’. 

I tried very hard not to fist pump over my to-cat-commentary working. It would have thrown off the whole vibe. 

Hagrid did write off a quick letter to.. someone I imagine, and tell me to hop onto the motorcycle. Something about not letting this stand and taking me somewhere to get cleaned up and showing me Diagon Alley so i had someplace nice to sleep for a bit before dealing with business. 

“Alright, but.. If I go to this Hogwarts place.. I don’t have any money.” “Your parents-- they left you some. It’s a job for the mornin’ Harry.” “Oh..” I climbed onto the back of the motorcycle with him. “But I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys’ right?” “Not after I have a word with Dumbledor you bloody well won’t.”

It was good I was sitting behind him. Partially because I had a sly grin from the planning here, and then from the look of abject terror because I had forgotten the motorcycle flies. By all laws of aerodynamics, a motorcycle should not be able to maintain flight. But this one does anyway, because it’s magic and it doesn’t care what Muggle math has to say.

Hagrid had to peel a very suddenly pale Boy Who Lived off his jacket when we landed. I managed to not puke or wet myself on the way through the Leaky Cauldron, so success? Success. I vaguely remembered events that lead to me scrubbing cake off my face and arms, and then sleeping. They didn’t involve Quirrell, so either we were early, I blew the line of people off, or Hagrid did me a solid and ushered me away from people before handshakes happened. I recalled the person running the counter getting very excited, then being hushed, and giving us a key.  Hagrid took the couch and it look like it broke, sagging to the floor, and I felt some slightly aware part of me twinge with anxiety, but I was too tired and high on adrenaline to care. Besides, magic can fix nearly any object. Whatever. 

The feeling of being in the clear was gone in about 9 hours.  Not exactly 9, but for once I was experiencing the best sleep I had ever gotten and I was taking it for all it was worth. 

Then the migraine came. Oh, Harry dear you poor, poor bastard. Poor bastard, poor me. Like dying, but slow and only in the spot around my scar. So, mostly my whole head region. I wanted to screw my eyelids closed tighter, but I knew that would make it worse, that this wasn’t the sort of migraine you get from a bad nerve or a pulled muscle. The cold burning was seeping now, down through my nostrils and through to the back of my throat, to the roof of my mouth. That wasn’t the main jabbing “FYI, Snakefuck McDick is nearby” feeling, but there were after effects.  The jab itself was radiating over my eye and opening them to look around made everything fuzzy-- like someone was blasting white noise and shining lights at me. While also stabbing me in the head.  No, I was not being dramatic, but holy hell did it feel like the migraines before The Green, but worse. Like a whole part of me stopped being me and was... ah, right. Right. Of course. Thinking ahead in time isn’t something I could do, but I’m stubborn and I knew one thing I damn sure could do. There would be no reclaiming this piece of himself, there would be no dragging it out of me.  I may have had to lay in bed for twenty minutes, sweating like a fever had taken me for all I had, and focusing on the pain until I wanted to vomit-- but finding the separation, exactly, in my mind was going to be key later. 

I am the boy who lived, the boy who ran, the boy who thinks, the boy who plans. And I would be damned if i’m the boy who is caught unaware.

So when I eventually got up, cleaned up and joined Hagrid downstairs in the dinning room-- complete with him speaking to several people, including a man wearing a peculiar purple turban-- I felt I was prepared.

I was, but oh, boy, never have I felt the urge to slap the back of someone’s head more in my entire life.

[michaeldenobile]

When life gives you stop signs and dead end streets...

Time keeps moving on thru the sunshine and the storm

And my dreams are set in stone that someday I'll be who I wanna be

For now I'll wait for the sun to shine again

And for now I'll wait for the rain to pass away

~Leeland, "Brighter Days," 2008

From their 2008 album Opposite Way and the soundtrack to the 2008 film Fireproof, the song "Brighter Days" is a bit of an anthem for me. Since I was a teenager, I loved the analogy of "storms" to describe struggles in my life. Storms often come without warning and are unpredictable, leaving hardship, devistation, and confusion in their wake.

And I'm lookin' for the brighter days

When all my hurts seem to fade away

I'm lookin' for the brighter days

To come my way

They bring floods, felled trees, debris, feet of snow, ice, limited vision, electrical fires, and power outages, both literal and figurative, even cutting us off from the outside world, making us feel isolated, alone, and forgotten. Some of the scars of storms are physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, financial, social, and familial. Storms can make or break our lives. They can make us stuck in the past, obsessed with the future, or focused on the present, for better or worse.

Faces come and faces go but none seem to look my way

And walls have stood and walls have fallen but my heart seems to wait

One of my favorite Robin Williams movies is What Dreams May Come (1998) about Chris Nielson (Williams) who, with his wife Annie, copes with the death of his children and then, when he himself dies in a car accident searches heaven and hell for Annie, who had committed suicide. As dark as the movie is, it is an uplifting drama about the humanity of life and what unites us all regardless of our beliefs. A quote from Annie speaks to the human reality of suffering: "It's just that when everybody's dancing, I feel like . . . I'm alone in a sea of faces."

Well-intentioned "faces" will "come and go," trying to offer support, take advantave of us when we're down, or completely ignore our existence. We build walls and we tear them down. We push people away and we invite them in.

For now I'll sit at the end of the road

And for now I'll wait at the end of the pathway

I'll see the sun one day shine upon me

I'll see the sun one day

And watch the nighttime turn to morning

But for now it all comes back around

In the Adam Sandler movie Reign Over Me (2007), Charlie Fineman (Sandler) is stuck while grieving the loss of his family, five years after they were killed in the attacks of September 11th. At one point in the film, Charlie tries to commit suicide by cop and in the legal proceedings that follow, the judge must determine wheter or not to commit Charlie to an psychiatric facility. His therapist Angela Oakhurst (Liv Tyler) testifies, "I think that Charlie needs to find his own way. Not on our time, but on Charlie's time, and I think that will happen. He'll find people that will fill his life again. Not today, but soon... slowly."

When storms shake our resolve, those well-intentioned faces try to diagnose and treat us. But most often, the remedy of our situations tend to be simply "sitting" and "waiting," in thoughtful reflection, for the "sun to shine upon" us in our own time, not others'.

Gary Allen sings, "Every storm runs, runs out of rain / Just like every dark night turns into day / Every heartache will fade away / Just like every storm runs, runs out of rain."

In our modern world where we can't live without one-minute microwavable burritos, instant fast food Big Macs, cell phone notifications for mail we will see when we get home, and texting for and from people who are feet away from us in adjacent rooms, waiting in times of suffering is an eternity of horror for most of us. We lose sight that the hurricanes of our lives will break and times of recovery will allow us to regroup and prepare, stronger for future storms.

In Jane Yolen's novel The Devil's Arithmetic (1988), a time travel novel set between 1980s Scarsdale, NY, and a concentration camp during the Holocaust, character Rivka, a Jewish teenager in one of the camps, discusses how one of the greatest acts of bravery is survival.

Surviving our storms, in our own time, is courageous. It is also necessary for our health and well-being. It's knowing that brighter days will always come. The dawn will always follow the dark night, and we must patiently carry our crosses through this transient life. If we have goals and dreams, sometimes we must climb the heights of heaven and descend the depths of hell in order to achieve our fullest and truest potential in this borrowed life. Through the storms and the wars, the trials and tribulations, the hardships and sufferings, the deaths we experience (both literal and figurative) can defined our existence or propel us to certain glory. We are not a product of our scars but a legion of our choices, both positive and negative. And we are but a heartbeat away from epic fear and failure or absolute fortitude--that is survival.

When the war gives you a minefield, you push forward and navigate through it. I have dreams and a plan, and I am not letting stop signs and dead ends dictate my end game. I am a champion, and my only opponent is myself. Only I can decide if I win or if I l lose.

But for now I'll sit and wait for the sun to shine again. I'll wait for the rain to pass away.