#past that i communicate with my sister because obviously she needs someone fucking stable in her life

[passionfruitmango]

YALLLLLLL PLEASE. INSANE. THIS IS FUCKING INSANE.

Tried to set the boundary with a nickname my mother calls me.

DAYS LATER SHES HAVING MY 11 YEAR OLD SISTER ASK ME "why I don't like being called that"

IM GONNA THROW UP THIS IS UNREAL.

She (mother) left ME on read, and is now doing THIS???? INSTEAD OF DIRECT COMMUNICATION?????

I keep hearing my therapists voice in my head asking "Have you considered going no contact with your mom" and holy fuck I have a feeling by the end of this year that might be my best choice

[lovemesomerafael]

Others Like Me                                  Chapter 20:  Home and Family

                    Chapters 1-15   Chapter 16   Chapter 17   

                    Chapter 18  Chapter 19  Read It On AO3

Tony’s pissed.  He’s been in his lab all night running scenarios with Jarvis, and he’s afraid and concerned and confused and he’s just plain over it.  He knows exactly what to do.  He knows because, somewhere in the pre-dawn hours, he realized that he really wanted to talk to Steve Rogers.  And then he realized that, since he knew exactly what Steve would tell him to do, he’s known all along what he’s going to do.  

It’s just that he doesn’t want to.

Well, no, he wants to, he just doesn’t want to.  He pulls his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and realizes what time it is.  He calls Pepper anyway.    

“Tony?”  Her slow, sleep-thick voice asks.

“Hey, Pep.  Did I wake you?”

Pepper hangs up.  Tony calls her back.

“OK, I know, that was a stupid question.  Sorry. It’s just… I need to talk to you. Or, rather, I need to tell you something and I need your help.”

“Oh, not again,” she sighs, and he can practically see her shaking her head and facepalming.  “What did you do?”  

Tony feels like he might be entitled to be a little miffed at her attitude, really.  After all, he said he needed help.  For all she knows, some terrorist could be holding him hostage in a secret lair underneath a volcano right now.  Why did she just assume he’d done something?  If a terrorist was holding him hostage, that wouldn’t be his fault, would it?  No, it wouldn’t.  Probably not. Well, maybe not.  At least, not necessarily.  Oh, for fuck’s sake…

“Tony?  Are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, Pep, I’m here. But I need you.  I don’t…  Pepper, I don’t wanna make weapons anymore.”

“Oh.  Oh.  Well, that’s good.  Isn’t it?”

“Yeah.  I think it is.  But I need your help, because I don’t know how to do this.  Please?”

“Of course.  Of course, I’ll help you.  I’ll be there in an hour, and when I get there, I want you to be sound asleep, do you understand?”

“Well, if I’m sound asleep, then how will we-“

“I won’t need your help for a while.  But I will, eventually, and I’ll need you coherent.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Trust me.  OK?”

Tony smiles at that.  “I do.  I do trust you.  Thor says we’re married in another universe.”

There’s a very long silence following that statement.  

“Pep?”

“Yes?”

“Well?  Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“You know, normal boyfriends don’t wake their girlfriends up in the middle of the night to say things like ‘hey, honey, my multibillion-dollar empire is going to end its core business and, by the way, the god of thunder says that we’re married in another universe.’  You’d be surprised how often that doesn’t happen, Tony.  So, I’m going to have to put off responding until after I’ve at least had some coffee.”

“Oh.  OK.  Love you.”

“I love you, too. Even at this hour.  Now go to bed.  I mean it.”

“Yes, dear.”  

Tony does go to bed, because he knows he’s made the right decision.  The only decision.  And having asked Pepper to help him make it happen means that it’s as good as done.  For about the billionth time this month, Tony wonders how he got so lucky.  He doesn’t deserve Pepper.  He knows that.  And yet, she puts up with him.  For some insane reason, she actually even loves him.  And God knows he loves her.  He falls asleep already thinking of new directions to take the company that don’t involve making toys, office supplies, or – God help him – dildos.  

A few years Later...

Bucky stands next to the truck that brought them into the Compound.  He’s laughing even as fat tears fall from his eyes to roll lazily down his cheeks.  She’s done it again.  Dmitriy’s lying on the ground, laughing and crying, too, hugging Marya for all he’s worth despite the fact that he’s also shouting for her to let him up.   When she does, Bucky sees that her forearms are scraped and bleeding and Dmitriy’s holding the back of his head.  Being loved by Marya can be dangerous.  

It’s a moment no one ever thought to dream: Marya and her brother standing together, alive and well with their arms around each other, hugging again because they can, and they need to.  As soon as their universe’s Tony Stark  figured out the switches, Bucky and Marya sent word to the Troops that they were alive and would visit the Compound as soon as they could.  Now that the testing is over and means to travel between the universes stable, they will be able to visit this universe whenever they choose.  But this is the first time they’ve visited the Troops and the Compound after believing, for years, that they never could.

The other Troops are crowding around, wanting to greet their former leader, their sister, miraculously alive even after she gave her life to free them.  It takes the Troops a very long time to finish hugging and squealing and laughing and crying on each other.  

Of course, the Troops know Bucky, too, and they greet him just as enthusiastically.  After all, he is their brother, one of them, and they’d thought he was lost to them, as well.  

Once the Troops have finished at least their initial greetings of Bucky and Marya, there is a crowd of other people to meet.  Dmitriy indulges in one of the perks of leadership by insisting on being the first to introduce someone to the visitors.  

He looks to his right and an attractive man, who seems endearingly self-conscious, steps up next to him as Dmitriy lays his arm across his shoulders.  It’s immediately obvious that the action is simply second nature to them.  Bucky hears Marya suck in her breath.  

“I am going to introduce you to this man, Marya, but I forbid you to tackle him,” Dmitriy laughs in his deep, locally-accented Spanish.

Marya’s already smiling joyfully and reaching for the man’s hands.  “You don’t have to introduce us, you fool.  This is Abarran!”

The two clasp each other’s hands, but it only lasts a few seconds before Marya is throwing her arms around the man.  Bucky can see he’s pleased, if a little nervous.  

“It’s so good to meet you,” he says.  “Please, call me Arran.”

“Of course, Arran. I’m so happy to meet you!  I know that there must be something very wrong with you to marry my brother, but he says that he is very happy, so I love you anyway.”

Arran is a few inches shorter than Dmitriy, with golden skin and light brown hair streaked by the sun. Although the sides are short, the front of his hair flops adorably into his deep brown eyes.  He wears the beginnings of a beard and mustache, more than scruff but not quite fully grown in.  He seems to relax as Marya puts an arm around his back to turn to Bucky.

“And this is Sergeant Barnes,” she says, the slight lowering of her voice as she says it and the way she looks at him betraying all that she feels for him.

Bucky shakes hands warmly with Arran.  “Bucky,” he invites.  

Dmitriy smirks, but Arran is a Basque farmer, not one of the Troops.  He was never threatened as a child with punishment by the Zimniy Soldat, so he’s happy to call Bucky by that name.

“There’s someone else I want you to meet,” Dmitry says, reaching out his arms to a chubby baby chewing on his own drool-covered fist, perched on the hip of a woman standing nearby. As he does, a little girl with dark, curly hair defying the elastic meant to tame it pulls her hand out of the woman’s grasp and runs past Dmitriy to clasp her arms around Arran’s thigh.  

“Papa, I want to meet Marya and Bucky first!  Before Antton!”

Arran laughs and pats the side of the little girl’s head while Marya goes to her knees, a look of astonishment on her face.  

“Marya,” Arran says, “This is our daughter, Nayara.”

Nayara lets go of Arran’s leg and takes four strides to stand, proud and brazen, before Marya. “I’m Nayara.  I’m three, and you are my aunt.”  

Marya can’t speak. She’s trying, but no words will come. All she can do is look several times between Nayara and Dmitriy.  Knowing her as he does, Bucky sees what she’s reacting to: Nayara is very obviously Dmitriy’s biological daughter.  Bucky squats next to Marya.

“Hello, Nayara,” he says in the same serious tone the little girl used.  “I’m Bucky.”

“You’re my uncle. You’re getting married.”

Bucky’s handsome face lights up with a wide, genuine smile.  “That’s right.”

Marya puts out a hand to touch Nayara’s curls, softly and tentatively as though afraid she might do some damage.  “You are perfect,” she tells Nayara in an awed whisper.

“Daddy says I’m like you. But why are you crying?”

“I’m not, exactly. It’s just that you’re… we are… we have the same blood.”  

Nayara’s skeptical look makes everyone laugh, even Marya.  It’s enough to break the spell, at least enough for Marya to ask, “May I hug you?”

“Of course, silly,” Nayara answers, her superior attitude clearly communicating that her new aunt is going to need some educating.  “That’s what you’re supposed to do.”  

Arran looks to Bucky like he is about to chide his daughter, but he seems to change his mind. Probably because Marya is smiling so wistfully and hugging her so carefully.

Marya keeps her hands on the little girl’s arms as she asks, “Will you introduce me to your brother?”

“He’s just a baby,” Nayara warns.

“I know, but I would still like to meet him.”

Nayara looks at Bucky. “Do you want to meet him, too?”

“Yes, I do.”

Nayara takes one of Marya’s hands and one of Bucky’s, and leads them with great solemnity to stand in front of Dmitriy, who is holding his son.  Nayara points up at the baby.  “That’s Antton.”

Dmitriy changes his stance, offering Antton to Marya to hold, but she clutches her hands together in front of her chest, alarmed.  “I don’t know how to hold him.”

“It’s easy,” Bucky says, taking him from Dmitriy and smiling at Marya when the baby’s settled in his arms. “They’re pretty sturdy.”

“Dmitriy,” Marya says in that hushed, reverent voice as she marvels at her nephew.  “These are your children.  Your true children.”

Dmitriy smiles in understanding.  “Yes.  Everyone here is our family, Marya.  These two also share our blood.  Yours and mine.”

Marya stays mildly stunned even as she and Bucky are introduced to all of the new members of the Compound.  Most of the Troops have chosen spouses since being freed from Hydra.  A few of the Troops have married each other, and others have married people they’ve met since founding the Compound.  Most, but not all, of the spouses are Spanish. There are a few boyfriends and girlfriends, too.  And there are also several children.  Nayara demands that Marya carry her, which is frightening enough, but at least it lets her avoid having to hold any of the babies.  Bucky has no such nervousness, however, and even tosses a few of them in the air, to their delight.  The older ones, none more than five, are immediately fascinated by Bucky’s metal arm.

It’s over an hour before the group is finished greeting and introducing everyone.  When someone finally suggests that they show their guests to their rooms, the big, noisy, chaotic crowd shuffles down paved walkways toward the large central building Bucky helped build so long ago.  He recognizes much of the Compound, but the community has clearly been building and evolving in the years since he was here last.  

The central building is now devoted to a meeting space with a communal kitchen, offices, and other shared spaces.  There’s another building, even larger, which is an ever-growing living quarters.  Some of the families have built themselves small houses they call cottages, although Bucky thinks they’re a little too modern to fit the name.  But most choose to live in the residence.  As a rule, the Troops no longer sleep in a haphazard pile as they had when they were Hydra captives, but they still mostly prefer to live very close together.  Bucky and Marya are shown to a small suite of rooms that are used on the infrequent occasions when there are guests at the Compound.  

The Compound is holding a huge, communal dinner to celebrate Bucky and Marya’s return.  It’s too late in the day to show them around the Compound, and Arran has convinced Dmitriy that their guests will probably be tired from their travels and appreciate some time to rest and wash up before dinner. Bucky finds himself lying on the bed, flesh arm behind his head, studying Marya as she gazes out the second-story window at the fields on the edge of the neat complex.  It’s almost a tiny town now, larger and more populated than the Avengers Compound in upstate New York.  

“You okay?”  Bucky asks gently.

Marya hums in response, still taking in the view.  “Overwhelmed, I think.”

“Yeah.  Me, too.”

There’s another silence while Bucky watches Marya’s thoughtful expression.  “They have children,” she muses.

Yeah.  That’s what Bucky thought.  

“I know.  Our Bruce thought we probably could, that’s why our supplements have contraceptives in them.”

“Yes.  It always seemed sort of… academic to me, though. Like a theory.  I don’t think I believed it.”

Bucky sits up and moves to the edge of the bed closest to Marya.  “We could have kids if you wanted to.”

Marya looks at him then, her face a weathervane, changing with her swirling emotions.  “Do you?”

“Yes.”  This seems to Bucky like a situation that calls for the clearest possible communication.

“Yes.”  Marya echoes him, her tone a request for confirmation at the same time she’s trying out the idea.  

“Yes.  You’re all the family I need, Marya, but I’d like having kids, if you want that.”

“Are you afraid?”

Bucky thinks about that, wanting to be sure he understands what she’s asking.  “I know it’s hard, raising kids, if that’s what you mean.”

“I mean, are you afraid they’ll be monsters?  Like us?”

“No, Marya.  We weren’t born like this.  We were made into this.  And we aren’t monsters.  You taught me that.”

Marya comes to sit next to Bucky as she says, “I just never thought about being a child’s mother before. It makes me look at us differently.”

“There’s no reason to make a decision right now,” Bucky tells her, taking her hand in his and kissing it before resting their entwined hands on his thigh.  “Spend time with the kids here.  Watch the Troops with them.  Take your time.”

“You are a wonderful man,” Marya says, and the look on her face is as adoring as her words.

“Then let’s put this time to good use and try out this bed.”

 Dinner is a chaotic, boisterous affair that reminds Marya of the times when Hydra would toss food into the Troops’ sleeping room as though feeding animals in a zoo.  Hydra had never understood that this wasn’t demeaning the way they’d intended; it was the Troops’ preferred way of being fed.  The Troops ensured that everyone got their share, regardless of how little Hydra sometimes gave them if they were being punished for something, and then they ate together in relaxed camaraderie.  It was nothing like eating in the stifling presence of Hydra personnel, or under the resentful supervision of guards.  Having been abducted as children and subjected to destruction of most of their memories, that was the life they knew, so they found enjoyment where they could.

During dinner, many of the members of the Compound tell stories of its founding and the work they’ve done in the years since then.  There are some poignant stories, and some tales of missions on which the Troops have helped the Avengers.  But Bucky’s stomach hurts from laughter by the end of the meal.  He and Marya tell the group about destroying the Ten Rings, and about the new peace descending on their world now that Stark Industries no longer makes weapons.  They have their own funny stories about some of the product lines their Tony Stark has experimented with.  

After dinner, they relax around a bonfire that’s been lit in a large firepit in front of the central building.  Although they haven’t lived in yurts for years, they’ve kept the tradition of sitting together around campfires whenever the weather allows it.

The fire lends a warm, comfortable light to the gathering.  Marya and Dmitriy stay next to each other all evening, often with one or both arms around each other, as Marya becomes reacquainted with the people with whom she was raised, who have always called themselves siblings.  Nayara sits on Marya’s lap for quite a while, before getting bored with adults talking and seeking out Bucky, who seems likely to be more fun.  

Dmitri eventually convinces Marya to hold Antton.  Looking at the sleepy baby sitting on her thighs, regarding her thoughtfully, Marya suddenly makes the connection.  She raises her head to meet her brother’s eyes.  “Nayara and Antton.  Natasha and Tony.”

“Yes,” Dmitriy nods solemnly.  “They are as much a part of this Compound as any of us.  Arran met them, and we wanted to honor their memories.”

“That is…”  Marya impatiently wipes a tear from her cheek. “I have wanted to see you, and all our siblings, since the day I had to leave.  And now that we’re here, all I can do is cry!”

Dmitriy laughs and squeezes her with the arm he has resting on her shoulder.  “Well, you did blow yourself up for us, so I guess I’ll forgive you.  Just don’t get tears on my son.  Anyway, we should start talking about your wedding.  People have already made a lot of plans without you.”

“That’s okay.  As long as I end up married to my Sergeant, here with you all, they can do it however they like.”

“I’m glad you are so happy, Marya.  I love the Sergeant, too.”

Marya turns a glare on him. “Yes, he mentioned that you two…”

“Am I supposed to ignore a man that beautiful?  Anyway, you were dead.”

“That was his excuse!”

“Don’t worry about it. It was nothing.”  Dmitriy’s smile fades then, and he grows serious as he says, “He was a broken man then.  I was not surprised when he sent me the message that he was going to try to follow you to the other universe.”

“You are the only one he told.”

“I didn’t know what to say when Dr. Banner asked me if I knew where he was.  I told him as much of the truth as I could, that he had sent me a message saying he was leaving.  But I refused to tell him what the message said.  I was honest that I didn’t know whether he was still alive, and I told him that, either way, we would never see the Sergeant again.”

“So much pain,” Marya sighs, bouncing baby Antton on her knee to make him smile.

Dmitriy shakes his head. “That is over now.  You and the Sergeant are both alive, and he is so happy, Marya.  He is… whole. You did that.”

“Many people did that, including you, Dmitriy.  And he healed me as much as I healed him.”

“Whatever.  More maudlin talk!  Drink some more of our wine and dry your eyes, you fool.  You cry more than Antton.”

That night, Bucky and Marya learn that the Troops have not entirely abandoned their former habit of sleeping together in a pile.  When their Hydra captors had allowed them nowhere better to sleep than a single room with a mat on the floor, they didn’t have sex in the place where they slept. As a result, sleeping together was not sexual for them in the bunker, so it isn’t in the Compound, either.  In the Compound, it's usual to issue an invitation to sleep together when someone needs comfort.  They all bear the scars of their trauma, if only internally, just as Bucky and Marya do.  Nightmares are common.  

So it really isn’t that surprising that the Troops have incorporated sleeping together into their celebrations, as well.  There is even a communal sleeping room in the central building, with a massive, fluffy floor covering and a wide array of pillows and blankets.  When people get tired around the bonfire, most drift into the central building to curl up together for the night.  It's a way of keeping the celebration going, of not having to end it just because they need sleep, and to reaffirm the close ties between the Troops and all the members of the Compound.  

Bucky finds it strange, but his experience in the Army comes in handy once again as he taps into that part of himself that had learned to sleep anywhere.  It is kind of nice, he realizes.  He feels safe and he does sort of feel a sense of camaraderie, even in sleep. And Marya sleeps soundly with a faint smile on her lips, letting out a sleepy, satisfied sigh as Bucky pulls her more tightly to his chest.

Bucky is home with his family.  And when they return to their new universe, he will be home there, too, with the rest of his family.  

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The End ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Epilogue:

The Avengers contacted Steve Rogers once – only once – after he returned to his own time.  When Bucky had gone missing, Bruce Banner called to ask whether he could meet with Steve, and Steve reluctantly agreed.  When he arrived, Bruce explained that Bucky had disappeared without taking anything with him, and the Avengers were worried. He asked whether Bucky had contacted Steve, or whether Steve knew where he might have gone.  

Of course, Bucky hadn’t contacted Steve, and Steve had no idea where he might have gone.  But Steve didn’t understand the concern.  Bucky Barnes, of all people, could take care of himself.  Couldn’t he? Was he all right?  Steve, in his stupid, self-destructive earnestness, had never learned to trust someone when they told him he didn’t want to know the answer to a question.  So he pushed Bruce to tell him the truth.  That’s how Steve learned, in excruciatingly painful fucking detail, what Bucky had become after he left.  Bruce hadn’t understood Steve’s decision any more than Bucky had and, God help him, it had felt kind of good to blast Steve back a little for what he’d done.

Oh, the lies Steve told himself after that!  Selfish, cowardly, willfully blind fuck that he is, even after Bruce informed him in no uncertain terms that he’d all but destroyed Bucky, Steve told himself that the Avengers were overreacting.  Bucky wasn’t “missing”.  He was fine. He’d simply had enough of life with the Avengers and had used his considerable skills to vanish into a quiet, peaceful life off the grid.  

And then, this morning, Steve had opened his front door to see Tony Stark, looking just like he did the day he died, standing on his front porch.  Steve had gasped, his chest tightening like it hadn’t even when he was a ninety-pound asthmatic.  Tony had skipped a beat, having to squint a little to be sure this old man was really Steve.  But then he’d broken into that impish grin and opened his arms, like he’d be welcome.

He wasn’t.  

Even when he explained that he wasn’t the Tony Stark from this universe, Steve hadn’t wanted to see him. It hurt like a motherfucker to see Tony again after all these years.  Especially this Tony.  Steve’s Tony hadn’t been this carefree, this light, since the Snap.  Maybe ever.  Seeing him now just reminded Steve of all that the Snap, and what came after, had cost. He doesn’t want to remember that. It’s part of why he returned to his time.

Steve resents this Tony Stark even more for the rest of what he told Steve.  About Bucky.  About what really happened when Bucky disappeared, several years ago now.  And where Bucky went.  Steve had actually tried to get Tony to leave without telling him anything about his universe, but apparently any Tony Stark is unstoppable and no universe has yet devised the means to shut him the hell up.  

Tony-from-another-universe explained, in self-congratulatory tones, how he’d figured out universe-hopping fairly quickly, once he began.  He admitted that most of the work had been done by Tony-from-Steve’s-universe, and all he’d had to do was reverse-engineer his switches and make some ingenious – Tony’s word - guesses.  The switches no longer dumped people into the other universe burned and broken, which Tony made sure Steve understood was all him.  

Steve, curse his still-too-polite ass, just had to ask what switches Tony was talking about. Up to then, Steve had still been under the impression that Tony was here alone, because he hadn’t mentioned anyone else. But Steve should have known.

It’s a beautiful, late-spring afternoon in Brooklyn, and Steve is walking, face tipped up toward the sun, soaking in the warmth.  Since the day he woke up after being rescued from the ice, he’s always felt like there’s a part of him, deep inside, that’s never really thawed.  Everyone’s always thought he ran and worked out to keep in shape, which is partly true.  But revving his body up to its maximum is also the closest he’s ever been able to get to feeling truly warm.  Peggy always used to get this look on her face when he’d wrap up in an electric blanket or sit too close to a fire, like she knew, even though he never told her about crashing the Valkyrie into the ice.  For her, it hadn’t happened.  And Steve didn’t want to talk about what he’d done, or why he’d done it.  Not when, even though he’d gotten Bucky back, he’d still walked away from him in the end.

The warmth of the sun is not the only reason Steve is blinking and looking up.  He’s also trying to hold back tears.  He promised himself on the day he returned to his time that he would never regret his decision, and he doesn’t.  Not really.  He’s caught up to himself now, to the time when he’d awakened in “the future,” but it’s different this time.  It’s so very different.  He fits now. He’s the right age now.  And this time, he has a lifetime of memories of Peggy and the family they made.  

Peggy’s been gone for a few years now, although it still feels fresh.  Her death is a wound that isn’t going to heal, and Steve accepts that. It was still worth it.  Steve himself is biologically over a hundred years old now.  He’s not immortal, of course, but the serum has given him a much longer lifespan than a normal man.  And although he’s aged, he’s still in perfect health.  At a hundred and change, Steve’s a hell of a lot healthier than he was at twenty.  That still makes him laugh a little, but it also means he’s going to be living with the pain of Peggy’s death for quite a while yet.  

That isn’t what has the tears threatening, though.  He would give in to them, if that was the case, like he has a million times since losing Peggy.  He doesn’t mind.  The pain of missing her keeps Peggy close to him, somehow.  

If anyone was paying any attention to the surprisingly fit old man on his daily walk right now, they’d see a look that’s half smile, half grimace cross his face.  Steve’s thinking about how Bucky would react if he ever heard him say that.

And it’s Bucky’s memory, not Peggy’s, that has him choked up.  

Steve’s not sure it’s accurate to say that it’s Bucky’s memory, exactly, that’s tearing him apart right now. Because the pictures aren’t from the past.  They’re from the present.  For Bucky, it’s only been a few years since he and Steve saw each other.  It’s Steve who’s been grieving the loss of Bucky for the past eighty years.  

Steve looks around him at the sunny street where he’s walking.  Had he known it, he is very near the place where Bucky was abducted by the Troops all those years ago.  He sighs, yet again, realizing that Tony might never have told him the things he had this morning if Steve hadn’t asked Tony what fucking switches he’d been talking about. But he did.  And that’s when Tony told him that Marya hadn’t died in the explosion of the Hydra bunker.  For a second, just a split second, that had been good news.  But, of course, Tony had immediately explained that she’d landed in an alternate universe – this Tony’s universe – and that Bucky hadn’t “disappeared.” Bucky had followed her there.  

Steve knew immediately, as soon as the words were out of Tony’s mouth.  Didn’t even have to think about it.  He’s not stupid, and he knows how Bucky Barnes’s mind and heart work. So Steve knows why Bucky flipped the switch, even though it was likely to kill him.  Steve knows that switch was Bucky’s Valkyrie.  Maybe flipping it hadn’t been quite so guaranteed to be fatal as crashing a plane into the ice at speed, but it was pretty close.  It was Bucky’s way of escaping a world without Steve, just as the Valkyrie had been Steve’s way of escaping a world without Bucky.  

Which tells Steve all he’ll ever need to know about what his leaving did to Bucky.

A whole lot of carefully-constructed fantasies crumble in the face of that knowledge.  All the lies Steve has told himself since Bruce had visited him go up in flames like the tissue paper they were always made of.  He burns with self-hatred now for how eagerly he’d embraced such a convenient, comfortable story.  Bucky hadn’t happily retired to a rustic little cabin in the woods to live on memories and his love for Steve.  Far from it.  What he’d driven Bucky to was nowhere near that simple, or that starkly noble.  And it sure the fuck wasn’t that complimentary to Steve.  

Bucky had floundered, desperately clawing for some kind of peace and utterly unable to find it. He’d lasted longer than Steve had, but in the end, he’d ended up in the same place Steve did after Bucky fell to his death from a train.  And he’d found it just as unsurvivable as Steve had.  

Oh, yeah, Steve understood. Who better?  The difference was, Bucky would never intentionally have caused Steve that kind of pain.  Bucky had tried desperately not to fall.  He’d done everything he could not to be separated.  But Steve?  Steve had done it consciously, and with malice aforethought.  Even knowing what it felt like, Steve had left Bucky clinging for his life and crying all alone in the freezing wind as he watched Steve disappear from his life.  

No wonder Bucky had taken an insane, suicidal risk on one of Tony Stark’s mad inventions on the off chance that he would find peace on the other side.  And he had.  Marya had been waiting for him there, arms wide open, still completely loyal and able to be everything Bucky needed.

Tony kept talking.  Steve didn’t listen.  He thought he hadn’t heard a word, but he knows now that he did, because he knows that Bucky is here, in this universe and in this time. He knows that, instead of coming with Tony to find Steve, Bucky’s gone with Marya to Spain.  And he knows that they’re going to be married there.

Steve knows why he’s upset about that.  He’s under no illusion about his own motives.  He wants Bucky to be happy; of course he wants that.  He’s supposed to want Bucky to get over him.  And yet, the idea that Bucky actually is over him hurts so bad he could howl with the unspeakable pain of it.  Steve wants to kill Marya.  As he walks, his hands curl into fists shaking with hurt rage as he thinks about her waiting for Bucky, faithful and patient and oh-so-ready to welcome him back into her arms once Steve chose peace of mind and Peggy over him.

Steve is well aware that there’s nothing to be angry with Marya about, because he himself is the one who abandoned Bucky, who robbed him of any choice and then stranded him in hell.  If he was any kind of friend, any kind of fucking man, he’d be overflowing with gratitude to Marya for making Bucky happy again.  Intellectually, he knows that.  But, oh, the craving and jealousy burn like nothing he’s ever experienced.  Not even Peggy’s death, because Steve believes he’ll be reunited with Peggy someday.  But he also knows he’s lost Bucky forever.  

Steve’s almost stomping his feet now as he strides up the avenue, trying to rid himself of the staggering avalanche of grief and rage and screaming agony he feels.  He’s gripping his phone so hard he’s likely to crush it. He doesn’t fool himself about that, either.  This morning, Tony went on and on about Bucky’s new life until Steve finally had to beg him to stop.  Tony eventually relented, but still insisted on uploading some pictures onto Steve’s phone. Steve doesn’t want to see them.  At the same time, he wants to see them so bad it’s killing him, even though he knows that his suffering now is nothing to what it will do to him to see pictures of Bucky, finally at home and content in a way he’s never been in this universe.  At home and content without Steve.

Steve does, eventually, look at the pictures.  He’d just needed to be in the right place when he did it.  The right place is the small back yard of his house.  It’s his favorite place in the world, especially when the sun is pouring its warmth on him and he can smell the lilac bush Peggy loved so much.  He feels her here.  They made years and years of memories here in this yard, together and with their children, and Steve still often has dinner on the picnic table with their kids and grandkids when they visit.  This yard is the safest place he knows.  

The pictures break his heart anyway.  Bucky is young and gorgeous and blissfully in love.  The shadows of the Winter Soldier are all but gone from his eyes.  If anything, he looks younger than he did the last time Steve saw him.  Steve knows that’s Marya’s doing.  Steve could never help Bucky heal the way that Marya can, because he hasn’t lived what they have.  Steve hates her just a little bit more for that, and hates himself for it.  

There is a picture of all the members of the Avengers Initiative, bruised and bloody after some battle or other, all smiling and laughing as though they’re having the time of their lives.  There are two James Barneses, and Steve takes in the sight of the other one – that universe’s Barnes – wearing the uniform and bearing the shield of Captain America. For the first time, Steve really lets himself think about the fact that Bucky is happy in a universe where Steve himself is dead.

There’s another picture of Bucky in front of a brick townhouse in what has to be Brooklyn in Bucky’s universe.  He’s roughhousing with two little boys who could be him and Steve at their ages, while Marya laughs from where she’s sitting on the stoop.  Steve thinks that might be Bucky and Marya’s home.  He doesn’t know who the boys are, and he’s glad he doesn’t.  

The last picture is a close-up of Bucky and Marya, smiling with their faces close together.  It looks like one Bucky took himself.  Steve can only look at that picture for long enough to be struck anew by the power Bucky’s stunning good looks have always had over him.  He imagines for just a split second that Bucky’s looking at him with those lovely, gray-blue eyes, and smiling at him like that. He has to hit the button to close the picture before the blast of desperate longing stops his heart.

So there is justice in this world, sometimes, Steve thinks.  Bucky has a full life, with people who have been gone from Steve’s world for a lifetime now.  And being forced to see Bucky, happy without him, Steve’s getting what he deserves for not having the courage to stay.  Steve’s not even trying to stem the tears, or hold in his sobs.  He thinks if he tried to hold it in, this torment would kill him.

After he looks at each picture, Steve deletes it, until he’s looking at a blank screen.  He had his life with Peggy, and it was very, very good. He’ll find his way to appreciate, even celebrate, Bucky finding his own happiness with Marya.  But he never wants to see those pictures again.

“Forgive me, Buck…” Steve pleads in a choked whisper.  “I should have been stronger.  Be happy, pal.  I’ve loved you every minute since the day we met.  I’ll love you forever.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #177

“i get pretty just to fuck my face up.”

What’s your favorite flavor of ice pop? Strawberry or watermelon. Do you like animal print? What’s your favorite print? Not particularly, but I suppose jaguar. What do you think of foot tattoos? Surprisingly, not a big fan. It's gotta be cute, well-placed, and small. Did your senior class in high school have a class trip? Where did you go? Maybe? I don't remember. What do you normally order at Dunkin Donuts? Chocolate frosted. What do you drink with dinner? It varies. Can be soda, water, milk... Peanuts or sunflower seeds? I don't like either. What is your favorite grocery store to shop at, and how often do you shop for groceries? Sam's Club totally has the best deals, but I don't make the shopping calls here. Who is your favorite character from the last movie you watched? Uhhh the super paranoid lady whose actress is a legend. Where did you have your first kiss? What about your last kiss? His bed; airport. What is the last thing you spoke to your father about? Phone bill. Who do you feel you have the most in common with? Sara. Who in your life causes you the most stress or negative feelings? Myself. Have you ever apologized to someone, but didn’t mean it? I'm sure at some point. What is the one thing that you can’t resist? Reese's, I sometimes cannooooot tell myself no to a Mtn. Dew Voltage, wanting to pet an animal even if it's dangerous, and uhhh I'm sure there's more. Have you ever done another person's homework for money? No. If you could play any piece of music on an instrument, what would it be? Teach me the ending piece from WKM on the piano so I could ruin myself further than just listening to it already does. Have you ever treated someone like they were nothing? I don't believe so. If you could ask 5 questions and get an exact answer, what would you ask? Oh yikes, deep one. Um... 1.) what is the cure for cancer, 2.) cure for Alzheimer's/dementia, 3.) cure for HIV/AIDS, 4.) how can/is it even possible to obtain world peace, and 5.) will I be stable in the future are what come to mind first. Does it frighten you when animals get into fights? I GET VERY SCARED FOR THE ANIMALS. When you were little did you touch just about everything in the store? YUP YUP YUP. Do you ever leave your drinks out in the open at a party? N/A, but I absolutely would not. Ever suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? Yes. Who is someone you’ll always hate? No one I personally know. How many people do you trust 100 percent? Just one. I would include Mom, but I know she lies about Dad. Do you think you could survive a month of solitary confinement? NO, I really think I'd lose it and kill myself. Do you often start books, yet never finish them? I don't read, but I'd do that if I didn't like it. When was the last time you felt abandoned by someone? Idr. Does the sight of blood gross you out? No. Have you ever gone through a red light? No. Do you fail to stop for stop signs, sometimes? No. What is your favorite eye color in the opposite sex? Blue. When you are sad, do you cheer yourself up, or look to others? It depends, but I usually begin with the former. During which year of your life were you the most unhappy? 2016 can been damned by God themselves. Have you ever seen a bluejay in person? Yes. Have you ever eaten grass/leaves? Probably as a kid. Do you typically like green-colored candies? Yeah! Apple flavor is the bomb.com. Who is the most energetic and happy person you know of? Ryder, my nephew. Who makes you smile the most often? Sara Jane. :') How do you express your happiness? I'm louder, more talkative, goofier. When was the last time you did a good deed? Uhhh idk. It's a tiny thing, but I suppose you could count me getting my old man bub with arthritis up on the bed when he wanted up. What songs make you happy? Lots... Do you like to sing? Sometimes, but I'm not good at it. Where is somewhere that holds fond memories for you? Ummm the little pond behind the community college where we took our first prom photos. That whole day was just extremely magical, and passing it is a severe PTSD trigger so if for whatever reason we're driving past there, Mom goes around it. I did pass it a few months back when I was taking pictures of flowers around the college and I was okay, probably because I didn't even glance at it. What do you think of the gothic stereotype? # A E S T H E T I C Have you ever encountered a black widow? Yup. What scares you, more than anything else? Ending up alone/losing all those I love. Has an animal ever peed on you? Lol yeah...  Pet rodents have multiple times when getting them accustomed to being held, a puppy probably has, and Venus (my snake) did once after I held her for like an hour, aha. Couldn't be mad at that angel, she was obviously so comfy. What would make a cool substitute color for the sun? Pink. Is purple a good color for a car? Sure. Do you prefer green or purple/red grapes? Purple; crisper. What is something you like that is sour? Warheads. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some hot wings at BWW with one of the hottest sauces. When was the last time you had a real deep chat? Idk, I'm sure something with Sara. Who did you last see on webcam? I've no idea. Have you ever discovered something gross in your food at McDonalds? No. What’s your favorite flavor of Ramen? I only like the spicy chicken Yakisoba ones. Have you ever spent the night in jail? No. Name a really popular television show you never got into: Ha, a lot. Game of Thrones, for one, but I'd be willing to give it a second chance via more episodes and a different attitude and actually kinda want to. Sara, add that to our list. Do you listen to any unsigned bands/singers? Who? No, I don't believe so. I need to start listening to my old friend's band, though, because I really want to support them; they work so hard and are very serious about taking their band somewhere. Nova Mortis if you're interested and like heavy metal. What do you find really interesting? THE PARANORMAL, for one. Genetics, psychology, fossils, abandoned buildings and shacks, natural selection and evolution, outer space, differences in languages and cultures, and so much more. Who is your favorite video game character? Spyro! What kind of pictures do you post on Facebook/Instagram/Snapchat most frequently? I like never post pictures, but selfies on FB, then I have two photography Instagrams. Do you remember the first person you felt sexually attracted to? Seriously, Jason. Have you ever been on vacation with a significant other? No. Is there anything on your bucket list that you’re hoping to cross off soon? A lot of things, but. Probably won't be soon as many include travel. Of all of your friends’ significant others, who do you get along with best? And least? Sam's wife Kieley is an absolute doll; least, idk. What would your life be like if you had married your first love? HAHAHAHAHA I REEEEEAAAAALLY DON'T WANT TO PICTURE THAT KNOWING NOW HE DIDN'T/DOESN'T BELIEVE IN ME AND CAN'T COMMUNICATE FOR SHIT. What is the most difficult or time-consuming thing you’ve ever cooked? Would you make it again? N/A Have you ever had a platonic friend that everyone insisted you should be in a relationship with? Girt, hardcore. Eventually did, but we know how that went. Is there anything about a person’s sexual past that might stop you from wanting to date them? Yup: if they've assaulted someone, prostitution is involved, casual flings/one-night stands have happened, being/have been a porn star, cheated before. If someone asked your closest friends/family members what career path might suit you best, what do you think they would say? Like, everyone will answer that question with "vet." Have you ever considered “unplugging”/taking a significant period of time away from technology? lol nope I doubt I'd last a day with no technology. Do you use a photo editor? Lightroom, Photoshop, sometimes PhotoScape. Is your dad overweight? Quite the opposite. Ever been honked at? Yeah. Which do you prefer, doctor or dentist? Dentist; I'm never nervous for them. Name two things you put whipped cream on? I haaaate whipped cream. Texture thing. Favorite thing you’ve ever painted? Two meerkats grooming, done on a huge thing of burlap. What’s your favorite type of sushi? Never tried, never will. Have you ever had an ulcer? No. What’s the name of the most recent baby a friend has had? Scarlett. Have you ever taken medication to help you fall asleep faster? Yup. I had a long insomnia streak where I physically couldn't sleep without Melatonin. What is your current favorite song? I'm hooked on "The Bottom is a Rock" by Mother Mother rn. If you had to move to another country, where would you move? Canada. Do you have a balcony? No. Are you jealous of anyone, even mildly? If so, who? Yeah, my sisters, as well as some real successful friends. Have you ever done a craft you saw in a magazine? No. Have you ever made a recipe you found in a magazine? No. Who is a singer that has given you chills? Celine Dion, Loreena McKennitt, Sebastian Bach, David Draiman, and Amy Lee off the top of my head. What act would you perform in a talent show? I wouldn't, I got nothin'. What area are you the most gifted in, do you think? Um... writing, I guess? Which style of wedding dress is your favorite? BALLGOWN BITCH Do you enjoy editing videos? Ye! Do you enjoy editing photos? Yup. Who do you think is the most attractive actor? I see u Jason Momoa. Have you ever been caught doing something REAL embarrassing by your parents? I don't believe so. Do you believe in reincarnation? No. Do you have any of your neighbors as friends on Facebook? No. When was the last time you thought about sex, or sexual things? Ummm within the past few days probably, at least briefly? Are there any flowers planted outside your house? We have a tall bush that sprouts big, pink flowers, if that counts. Does anyone in your family smoke? Dad. What was the very first election you voted in? I haven't yet. Do you have a drone? No. Are you the type that’s too ashamed to ask for or use directions? No, rather too shy. Were you tired when you woke up this morning? YEAH. I slept like shit and had to get up early for a VR assessment. You overhear two people gossiping about you; what do you do? I feel like I'd say something sarcastic to them. Or be more mature about it and ask why. Or cry. Are you proud of who you are? Eh, only in certain areas... Is your vision good? I can barely read the line below the big "E." So no lmao. Are you a legal adult? Yeah but idk how. Has anyone ever called you a flirt? No. What was the last compliment your received? The assessment lady at VR loved my hair. Do you know any sign language? No. Who was the last person to give you a gift? Sara, on our anniversary. Do you trust the media? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA BITCH NO. If you could kill off one species of animal, which would it be? Can gnats like????? not???????? Idk if they have a single useful function????????? What kind of cookies are your favorite? Chocolate chip. Who’d you last say I love you to? My mom. What’s the most overpaid job in your opinion? I'm not educated on this enough to give you an informed answer. What’s the last thing you wrote down? Working out a math problem during the assessment. When’s the last time you didn’t sleep in your own bed? Over a month ago. When’s the last time you heard a gunshot? Idk. Who’d you get mad at last? Myself. What’s the last thing that annoyed you? Bentley wouldn't listen. When’s the last time you gave someone advice? I think yesterday? Do you think you’re lucky, unlucky, or neither? Neither. Who did you last disappoint? Myself. Do you enjoy learning? Of course!!!! I mean there're subjects I have no interest in and don't enjoy, but learning as a whole is great. People say you learn something new every day, so what did you learn today? Well it was nothing big, but that I could return Miku before she got hurt since Mitsu didn't appreciate a new "buddy." Yes or no: eyebrow piercings? They can look super badass or awful depending on your face and eyebrow thickness imo. When I say The Beatles, what is the first song that comes to mind? "Yellow Submarine" even tho I hate that song???? In your opinion, what is the very worst type of weather? Hot and humid, especially with no breeze. Just no. You can only listen to 1 band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? DON'T MAKE ME. What is something that you had to learn the hard way? DON'T. THINK. A RELATIONSHIP. IS WITHOUT A SINGLE CHANCE. OF. SOMEONE. LEAVING. EVEN. IN THE MOST "SECURE" ONES. When was the last time you felt like your heart was actually breaking? Ahhhh I'm not sure. Either something with Mom or Sara. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Mom. If your ex called you right now, would you answer? I don't have his number, so I wouldn't answer. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Sara. Do you want your tongue pierced? It is. 10/10 recommend for cute factor, but 0/10 for the healing process and pain asjfawiwo. Mine's through the very tip of my tongue and because that area is so sensitive, it was so painful that I became immediately nauseous. Pain didn't entirely vanish for almost two weeks. BUT I have zero regrets, so worth it. Is there something that happened in your past you hate talking about? Yeah. What’s one thing in your life that you wish you could change? Financial position. Have you ever been in a perfect relationship? Ha, don't ever believe those exist. Do you still talk to the person who broke your heart the most? Nope. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? Ummm I don't believe so. Well, I don't know if I'd take back going all the way or whatever the fuck that was, maybe I would. idk Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? No. Can you drive, and if you can, do you like it? I'm capable, but I don't enjoy it at all. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Yeah, being in a shit mood and/or being impulsive with my words. Do you like french fries? Who the FUCK sayin no to this. Have you ever ate so much you puked? No. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? To some degree/in certain aspects. Would you rather eat cookies or brownies? Probs brownies. Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? No. Are you good with managing your finances? I don't. Not in that position yet. What is the closest pizza place to your house? Domino's. Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names? Hmmmm no. Are you any good at drawing? Some things. Is there anything unusual about your house? No. Can you maintain a text conversation or do you run out of things to say? I think I'm good at keeping *text* convos going, surprisingly. Do you find it hard to talk to strangers, even people who work in stores? YEAH!!!!!!! Have you ever tasted goat’s milk? No. Did you ever take classes for a musical instrument when you were younger? Yup. Band member all through middle school, stopped after my junior year of HS. Do you snore when you sleep? No, but I talk a loooot. Who is the first person who broke your heart? Dad. Do you know anyone who has fought in a war? Jason's dad was in the Navy. What religion are you? Theist, which basically just entails me believing there's a god/goddess/some sorta beginning deity, but hell if I know anything about them. I make my own guesses. Who is the last person you gave a ride to, and where did you take them? I don't have a license or my own car. What is the last thing you untruthfully denied? Hm. I'm not sure. Have you ever ridden on a real train? No. Name ONE good memory about your last ex? He's absolutely hilarious and I miss hanging out more! Would you consider yourself dishonest? Not gonna bullshit and claim I never am, but in general, no. Do you tend to let people break through your walls easily? HAHA YEAH RIGHT. What are you superstitious about? Nothing. What is the coolest thing you can do? Oh boy, hell if I know. I know from experience people are often surprised how even skittish animals/pets seem to be drawn to me; does that count? Is there anyone you want to hook up with that you haven’t? Not my thing.

[bellyelling]

i haven’t posted on this blog in who fucking knows how long, but i just need to write about what i’ve been experiencing so i can sort it out in my head and throw it into the void

ok so i’ll start.... from the beginning i guess. or the start, or the inception of my mental health issues because that’s really what this is about. was born into a middle-class family, the younger of two children. i obviously don’t remember my infancy, so i can’t be sure what happened then. but as far back as i can remember, my mother was... not great. aggressive - never physically, but very often emotionally and verbally. i remember a lot of screaming, a lot of being attacked for things i wasn’t sure i had even done, or for things i didn’t know were “wrong”. or wrong to her. i remember never feeling safe, especially around her, and then around my father, because he never once did anything or stepped in to defend myself or my sister. and this is where it gets tricky, because if, as a child, you never feel safe around your parents or protected by them... you don’t feel loved by them. so i’ve gone my whole life (i’m 20 now) without ever having felt loved. because if you never felt loved as a kid it’s gonna be pretty hard to ever feel loved as an adult. you never learned how. okay. that’s the beginning, now i’m gonna skip to the middle.

once i entered adolescence, probably around the time i entered middle school, i started having a lot more anxiety around social interaction. i had always had trouble relating and making friends, but adolescence is when that really started to weigh me down emotionally. every social situation was nerve-wracking, i felt like i had nowhere to go and fit in. and this is the case for a lot of middle schoolers, i know i was not special in this feeling of being afraid of not fitting in. but i think because of the added bit of never having felt loved, it may have been a deeper fear for me. regardless, i was never comfortable. i did end up forming a couple close friendships, but i always kept some distance. and then, around age 14, a couple things happened. one, i started to get hit with the beginning of what would become a three to four-year long bout of dysthymia with frequent periods of major depression. and two, i discovered the depth of entertainment to be found on the internet. so the more depressed i got, the more nervous around social interactions i got, the more time i spent on the internet. it quickly became my favorite pastime, and then my ONLY pastime. i slowly started spending less and less time with friends, partly because i often felt i needed to be alone and partly because the longer i went without seeing them, the more i became convinced that they didn’t want to see me. so i spent more and more time alone. i still kept up with friendships while at school, i was involved in the music program which was the only place i really had friends, but around the time i turned 16 it started to get worse. i honestly don’t remember many details from my junior year of high school. and then, when i turned 17 and started my senior year, it got even worse. i started seeing a therapist in the fall of 2014 because i cracked and told my father i needed help. i didn’t give him many details, didn’t tell him that i had been feeling suicidal or that i had been hurting myself for a couple years at that point. but i got a therapist and started going to see her, and after the first session she recommended that i start seeing someone who could prescribe me medication as well. so we tried to get me in somewhere, but i wasn’t going to be able to get in until late march. ok, that’s fine, i had gone that long without medication so i could go longer. except time went on and i got worse and worse. i was scared all the time, i always had intrusive thoughts, images of myself falling and smashing my head every time i went up or down a set of stairs, images of me accidentally stabbing myself in the eye when i would hold a pair of scissors, and then there were the fantasies that i often consciously created. when i was anxious, i would often imagine stabbing myself in the leg or banging my head against the wall. but once it got really bad, probably around the end of 2014/beginning of 2015, the fantasies weren’t of injury, they were of death. instead of stabbing myself in the leg, i was slitting my wrist with the intent to kill. instead of banging my head, i was throwing myself in front of moving vehicles and being killed on impact. it ended up getting to the point where i felt so trapped, so backed into a corner, that i felt i needed to die. i didn’t end up dying, but i did end up in a psych ward for the first 2 weeks of march. and once i got out.. then shit got interesting. they had put me on prozac in the hospital, then switched me to zoloft because i had been showing more OCD-like symptoms. anyways, i was on 50 mg when i got out, which is generally a starting dose. but around my last day there, my mood started to lift very very quickly. i was excited to go to school for the first time in years. i would stay up all night painting on the walls and not be tired at all the next morning. i was jittery and euphoric and i couldn’t stop talking. it was probably my first time not being afraid to talk to people. it was my first manic episode. i got taken off the zoloft pretty quickly, but the episode kept going, probably lasting around a month. i ended up getting pulled out of school AGAIN because i couldn’t make my mind slow down or my body sit still enough to go to class. after that, i had a weird few months. i was volatile, i self-harmed more in those few months than i had in the few years before, but i still wasn’t anxious. no one really knew what to do with me, i was essentially a different person. i honestly still don’t know what that was. over the summer, i became more like my old self again. not as depressed, but definitely more familiar. i tried to go to college in august, and i ended up having a breakdown and having to drop out after a couple weeks. whatever. i came home, went into partial hospitalization for a couple weeks, and then did nothing for nearly a year. no school, no work. i did nothing. then, come next fall, i tried to go to community college. i did a semester, but barely made it through. around halfway through i struggled severely to even show up and was too embarrassed to tell anyone in my life about it. i tried to do the second semester but it didn’t work out. i think i dropped it after the first day. that must have been, what.... january 2017?? february? something like that. at that point i was 19 years old and didn’t have much hope at all. even so, i decided to try and get a part-time job. i had tried to get a seasonal position during the holidays, but had only gotten one interview that i bombed. so i didn’t really have any expectations. i applied to a bunch of places and got one call, one interview for a sales associate position at a women’s clothing store. i went and actually had some interesting things to say because i’m really into clothing and at the time was selling vintage clothing online. so i got hired in march 2017 as a part-time sales associate. i was really anxious there for a while but i eventually acclimated and actually got friendly with some people there, and in october i got promoted to supervisor. at that point i was probably the happiest and most stable i’ve ever been. and i was good at my job. then, time passed, and things started the change. i’m not sure when. maybe january or february of this year. i got more and more depressed, and now, in june, i’m truly starting to feel like i don’t have any more options. 

i feel stuck. and i know a lot of this is because i have bipolar disorder. i didn’t mention it, but there were some fucked up manic episodes in the middle of all this. luckily, the worst of it happened before i got hired. but part of me believes that some of this goes back to my childhood. i still don’t feel like i know how to interact with the world because of how i grew up. is that what’s really holding me back? i don’t have it in me to try and fight that when i’ve never known anything different. it would take a lot of time and a lot of effort to help myself in that regard. and as far as the bipolar goes, i have done, am doing, everything that i can. it seems to always come back to this. in the past when i’ve been suicidal it’s been out of fear and desperation, but now, i feel like i just don’t have any more options. how long can i keep trying? i can barely make myself go to work at this point. in the past week, i’ve cried before every single shift because i’m so desperate for a break, because i feel so tired and worn out and nothing ever stops. i don’t want my life to be this hard. i look at other people, about how they do all these activities in their free time when they’re not working and i wonder how they do it. i can’t do anything other than go to work. i can barely do that. and now, when i go, i’m starting to think i shouldn’t even keep this job. i’m not performing as well as i used to, and i know people have noticed. i just think it might be time to throw in the towel. game over, you tried, but life just isn’t for you. i wish it weren’t the case, but i think it might be.

[issei-ice-k]

How to Love (not ft. Lil’ Wayne)

Feb. 5th, 2018

Growing up, I was afraid of making mistakes due to my father always negatively criticizing me. However, I’ve definitely seen him soften around the edges over the years and although he has never directly told me he loves me, I don’t doubt for a second that he does because his actions back it up. It should be verbally communicated as well but I’ve accepted him to let his actions speak for him. But as a boy, timid by nature, my father’s criticism caused me to form a bad habit of second guessing myself, and calculating my decisions became my defense mechanism to prevent myself from making mistakes. This obviously stunts growth, because making mistakes and learning from them is part of the learning curve. But I managed to learn this fact through my teen years, and practiced not fearing to fail in my past decade of my life. The results have shown me that things usually work out when listening to your heart and going with your gut feeling. My decision to quit competitive ice hockey, and explore the world of arts gave me the opportunity to study abroad in the country of my heritage, where I eventually landed a stable job in Tokyo with a thriving company and made some of the best friends of my life during my time there. Listening to my heart was working for me, but this was much easier to do when it wasn’t about love. With love, someone else’s heart is on the line. My decisions impact someone else’s life and feelings. What used to be a fork in the road for just my life, now suddenly brings another’s. It was a scary thought when thinking about it that way.

My life continued to attract exciting opportunities. While I was working in Tokyo, I had been offered a job that guaranteed me to move to Los Angeles within 6 months to a year. Ever since diving into the arts, LA had been a place I wanted to explore to see all kinds of art. With a passion to pursue acting and dance, it seemed like this new job was an opportunity of a lifetime. I placed my bet and signed the dotted line.

At that time, I had just gotten out of a 3.5 year relationship and was starting this new job that guaranteed my move to pursue my passion. My life was about to change drastically. I was ready to invest time into myself to see how I could become a better me and how to love myself, which to me, meant exploring what I did and didn’t like about myself, and diving deeper into my hobbies/passions. I wasn’t looking for a relationship but I wanted to meet other women to find out what qualities I wanted in a significant other. But fate didn’t know or care. 

A few weeks into my new job, I was introduced to a cute girl through a mutual friend. Her name, Miku. I couldn’t resist but to ask her out to dinner and unexpectedly, sparks ignited on our first date. I had disclosed that I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship due to my current situation but that didn’t stop us from continuing to see each other. The more time we spent together, the more I saw her playfulness and throughout our little laughter-filled adventures, by some miracle, she chose to give me her heart. I saw this and reciprocated to give her some of mine as well because why not? She was cute, kind, humble, artistic, spontaneous, free-spirited… should I keep going? Okay, one more... her pursed lips doe ;) But it was my first time not labeling a relationship as boyfriend/girlfriend that got intimate. Eventually, although we didn’t agree to label it as bf/gf, I offered for us to be exclusive between each other and we agreed to not see other people. 

You may be thinking, “if we were exclusive to each other, how was it any different from bf/gf?” This caused a lot of confusion, not only to her, but to me as well. No matter how I tried to answer that question, it never made sense because the defense mechanism of my mind created this barrier of an idea that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t work and I needed time to self invest, but my heart really wanted to be with her. The best conclusion that my inner conflict came to was to commit to each other with an expiration date of when I move to LA. But Miku didn’t hesitate at thoughts of long distance. Why? Because Miku has ears the size of Dumbo’s when it came to listening to her heart. *This is a figure of speech guys. Her ears aren’t actually huge. They are very cute.* But just imagine being able to hear every flutter, chirp, and whisper of your heart when it speaks. It would make life much easier to make decisions. Miku loved me fully with no barriers. Her love was pure. She knew how to love far more than I did.

My time to move to LA inevitably came but I was still unable to process my inner conflict. I was naive in that I kept following my mind instead of my heart and I continued to push her away despite her continued effort to try to keep us together. In the end, I ended up breaking her heart, the very thing I thought I could prevent. In doing that, I know I must’ve made her feel like a complete fool for giving me her heart, and made her second guess not only herself but how to love. It was the most unfair thing I could’ve done, which consequently put me in my position now…

Fast forward to today, now in LA a few months after Miku and I broke up and I had still been following the mind that had told me that love will come after focusing energy inward on myself. But my heart for her had been growing louder and more unsettling. I was even reaching out to mutual friends to see how she was doing in prior months. I was really dying to reach out to her but I wanted to respect that she wanted space. Over the past couple months I’ve been trying to understand why I was feeling this. Maybe moving to a new city without friends was harder than I thought? Realistically, I love the LA weather and I’ve been meeting a ton of new people here and I moved to new cities almost every other year since I was 13 and in my hockey days. I couldn’t be happier with my housemates and living situation. I’ve gained a true brother in one of my housemates and I've lived with tons of roommates since I was 14. Trust me, I know what shitty roommates can be like. However, I do recall my move to Tokyo to work for SoftBank being very tough. But much of that was due to being placed in a very traditional Japanese working environment and forcing myself to learn business level Japanese. When I moved to LA, my job, my boss, and my responsibilities didn’t change at all. There was no stress in those departments. I had to look deeper. Maybe because I hadn’t found my partner yet? So I started to look around but when I was trying to look for qualities in the girls I was talking to, I realized I was literally envisioning Miku in my head. And it hit me that deep down my heart knew of a love that was already there. It showed me exactly what qualities I want in a woman. 

I need a partner humble and grounded enough to not need to flaunt her looks, but rather, let me proudly flaunt her around. I need someone wise enough to listen before assuming, who will always self reflect on her words/actions, someone artistic, to have the viewpoint to see beauty in the smallest things, to support my passions, to be spontaneous enough to get up and go on a weekend getaway, to have a similar amount of a Japanese/Western blend as me, to be able to really share the dopamine high of music, to show immense care through the tough times, to share everyday laughter through the smallest corny jokes and puns (like the title of this post), and to have a pure smile of elation. Not only that but I need to really be able to vibe with my partner. Like when something funny occurs and a word doesn’t have to be spoken to know exactly what the other person is thinking, and simultaneous eye contact becomes the punchline to a burst of stomach-clenching laughter. Or when you can nerd out on things that you both grew up on that shaped your childhood, despite growing up in different places. I’m sure some of you can relate. Miku possesses all of these traits and even showed me how to care for those I truly love through the way she gives love.

I remember how excited I was to introduce her to my sister, Reina. My sister was my figure who helped guide me and teach me from her experiences growing up. The one who always had my back, even though she felt like a bully at times ;P But I was excited because she was the closest person to me in my life and I wanted just the three of us to meet so Reina could get a glimpse of Miku’s amazing personality; cute, innocent, and easily amused with a hint of Kanye, who can’t find a fuck to give even if she wanted to about what others think, but will also melt toward any cute animal within sight. It was truly healing to see them get along and sing their hearts out to some of our childhood tunes at karaoke together. And my sister approved. It was the first time she genuinely liked a girl I introduced her to.

During our time, I even mentioned to Miku that she had marriage potential to me but my understanding of those reasons have come crisp into focus. Is it possible to love someone once you are away from them? Many might say no, but this experience has told me yes. Love grows differently for everyone. If love had a template, there would be a lot less relationships in this world.

But here I am trying to pick up the pieces to the heart I shattered... but I know exactly why I failed. You can’t calculate love or half ass it. You just need to listen to your heart and if it gives you the signal, you need to act on what it says, not the thoughts of doubt that your mind creates. The rest will work out if both people fully love each other, because if you try to calculate your moves, you won’t be able to focus on the present moment and what your heart is telling you. I know Miku already knows this if she hasn’t changed how she loves. 

One could argue that I just want the old memories to become the present again, but to be honest, I want it to be different this time around, because previously everything revolved around me. There is nothing that will comfort her in trusting that version of me again. This time I’d show her what my heart truly feels through my actions, as my dad does. To show that I love her. Actions like not being on my phone when we are supposed to be enjoying each other’s time. Staying aware of how people can be perceived on social media and being careful of what kind of women I spend time with. Managing and making time for our alone time. Planning out not only spontaneous dates or events but even planning trips/events ahead of time, including those that she would really enjoy, not just me. I really want to explore the rest of the world with her, and especially Hawaii because I know it’s her second home. My mom had even agreed to put her on flight benefits to make this affordable and possible when I asked her. I want to experience more of what molded her before I met her. But not just her past, I want to show her and lead her to things she still hasn’t experienced during our limited time on this planet. I accept her for who she is and how she thinks and I want to hear more not just about the beauty she sees in things, but her deeper thoughts in life as well. 

I hate to assume, but my heart also tells me that some of her heart is still with me. If she still believes in the way she loves, I’d beg her to dig down and look into her heart to see if there is any sense of love still there for me, even if it’s just a glimmer. Without barriers, I'll provide tenfold through the promise to protect our love for each other. The characteristics she displayed to me are those that will make me happy for life.

I know she thinks that feelings should build from the get go in a relationship, which may turn into love at some point, and I respect her view. I wish I was wiser to have understood my own feelings and actions from the start but I can’t rewind time. But my love for her is clear to me. I can’t control what may happen in the future but I know for a fact that I will regret not giving my all for her. Do I deserve a second chance? Many may say no. But the only thing I can do is to convey my love and hope that she is willing to see through my lens, in the eye of the beholder.