#so I am adrift and feel kind of disconnected

[whentherewerebicycles]

blah blah journaling behind the cut

OKAY WHY DO I FEEL SO UNSETTLED i will gently disentangle the feelings.

the interview is just a screening interview and i might not make it to the next round! this isn’t even a JOB yet just the far-off possibility of maybe a job someday! but the REALITY of the screening interview on my calendar is making it feel more real that i COULD leave my current job and that is making me feel a bit panicky! to be clear i very, very, very much want to leave my current job but i feel like i’ve weathered so many major life transitions in the past 8-10 months and it’s kind of freaking me out to imagine weathering another one, even if it is a much-desired life transition that i think/hope would ultimately make me feel much more like myself. the prospect of change can be scary even if it’s a good change. this is not a feeling i can resolve it is just a feeling i will need to hold loosely & breathe through as i move forward.

i am nervous about the interview itself, mostly because i have spent the past six or seven months feeling pretty disconnected from my old self and pretty emotionally adrift in an existential crisis about my current job, and i am worried i will not be able to quickly & easily access my old thoughts/feelings about the work i used to do. but i have seven days to do some sustained thinking, journaling, and talking with friends/students to reconnect with that not-SO-distant version of myself. plus the coordinator confirmed they’ll be sending me the screening questions the day before, so i’ll have time to thoughtfully prep and practice.

liz is leaving today and we won’t see each other again in person until late april which feels so far away :(((((( i never want to waste the last day being in a funk about parting but i am in a funk about parting. but it will be ok. we got to see each other like every two weeks for the last three visits and we will both be traveling a lot in the meantime so the time will go faster than i think!!

i am traveling for a family trip this weekend and the logistics are slightly complicated (seattle to phoenix to palm springs to san diego to seattle) and that always makes me feel a little unsettled even if i know the trip itself will be fun. plus i have to do a bunch of errands before i leave AND pack for a different climate and i’m nervous about not having clothes that will work out. but it’s fine it will be fine.

WHAT CAN I DO TO QUIET MY WORRIES 

i can book airport parking (one lightly stressful logistics thing out of the way) and make a detailed to-do list and packing list so i have less free-floating anxiety about the trip itself. i can also map out the different legs of the trip and figure out when i’ll have time to work on interview prep, which i think will help me feel less stressed about preparing.

i already created a doc and spent a few hours researching the program i’m applying to, jotting down notes for examples/ideas from my previous job i can talk about in the interview, and making a list of things i want to be ready to discuss. i think i feel a little scattered in the way i’m prepping now, but if i carve out a solid block of time tomorrow to make a detailed prep plan i can just work my way through it steadily instead of feeling like there are a million scattered things floating around in my head. this will also make me feel more excited about the job which will help ease me through the scary AAAAAA MORE LIFE TRANSITIONS???? feelings.

liz and i are going to book our next visit now so we have something to look forward to! also i think we will go on a walk and that will help ease the pre-period hormonal jitters.

tonight i will have time to sit down and calmly think through all aspects of the next week (logistics, interview prep, work schedule, etc.). having a solid plan will make me feel less all over the place. and tonight i will also have time to do some good quality lying around and self-soothing activities (reading a favorite classic fic etc) which i think will help restore my feelings of equilibrium

[violetsystems]

#personal

It is most certainly cold outside. The shower is very hot. I don't have any plans for the holidays until a late Christmas next week. It feels like I kicked off the final piece of an iceberg socially sometimes. That can feel good looking back at your past and watching it float off into the distance. The relevance of it has passed. And yet I don't necessarily feel irrelevant at all. Just adrift. Been focused on getting things together around my apartment. This seems like for years now. But I'm sure there's things I've been cleaning up emotionally over time. I'm frustrated with the job process just as I'm frustrated with the creative pursuit. It doesn't really feel I matter all that much other than keeping the peace. And it's something I've grown to focus more on lately than confronting the problems out there I didn't create. I've lived where I live now for over a decade. I vibe with what I vibe with and try to ignore what I don't. Organically over time, I think the right pieces of the puzzle have come together. Or at least the right catalysts of people to make it seem like where I'm currently at in life is the most worthwhile. I would love to incur more income. The most obvious way I thought to do this was to apply for jobs; a relentless process which leaves you wondering if you are worth anything at all. Everybody needs to make money at some point to survive. I think I've been brainstorming about this in varying degrees over the last couple of years. But the most frustrating part is wondering if you are either doing too much or not enough in a situation where the goal posts keep changing. I have rely on this unspoken vibe with everything. And there are no absolutes really other than winter is long and spring comes eventually. Spending Christmas alone is kind of grueling. I used to hang out in Japan and Korea years ago alone around this time. So as far as getting away from it all I don't know really what complaining about. Damaging your life so badly that you've disconnected from everything seems a little extreme. But if the past wasn't particularly helpful or constructive I'd rather it stay buried. It isn't like anything has changed much on here other than the tone of what I keep writing about. That seems enough for me in terms of visibility at this point. Going live to hang out in an empty chat room doesn't seem like the right way to go.

It's not that I really care or have an opinion about it. I'm happy that such a dead website continues to stay relevant in strange new ways. But thankfully this website is not part of a publicly tradable shit show so maybe I worry less about the direction. Again everyone has to make money to pay to the bills. Writing here doesn't do that. But then again, writing here is a different story. A little insight to those who still want to peer into the empty head of somebody who just goes apeshit with the reblog button on an array of weird shit. I don't know if I really use this site that way much anymore. I simply am hanging out flipping through a magazine of sorts with my friends. Every time I try to go visible people start asking the wrong sort of questions. So lurking down here is like hanging out in the backroom of some party. Maybe a little like getting locked in the freezer at a corporate catered political gala. I can't seem to find a way to bust this door open. I keep making it my own way and stay positive. But sometimes it gets to me how subconsciously mean it all is. It makes me angry less when I think about it these days. So nothing really changes other than my softening over time to the bitterness I feel about where it all went wrong. It feels like growing up in America is something you never were meant to escape. And however it worked out, I live in a city with a roof over my head and decent water pressure. I genuinely hope the holidays are restful for people. But for myself I find them enormously exhausting if I don't focus on something. And being barricaded in alone like this sometimes has you worrying about the wrong stuff. Which sends me into loops just thinking about. That I worry about the same things every normal American does with a twenty two year resume and a college degree. Less about debt than I ever did. But my goals to stay out of it are still the same. Sure, people could just buy my discography for twenty dollars and be done with it. But I've never really been able to garner enough attention to make a living doing any of that. Neither do I really think it's possible. Which is why working in a sushi restaurant in the neighborhood in the very worst case scenario doesn't seem too horrible of an option. But here I am on Christmas Eve thinking about my options and feeling like I have none. I'd be worried more if I hadn't planned for absolute hell. But that is what this all has been for me. Ho, Ho, Ho. I hope I slayed the process either way.

By the third paragraph, you can tell I can only think about how sore my muscles are from shoveling. That isn't real work. But the transactional value around here is still the same. Which is to say that there are some things out there more valuable than money and how much you hoard of it. I can't say I'm anywhere close to a billionaire. But the dirty tricks I've seen makes me wonder just how dirty you have to be to make that much at the expense of your fellow earth people. Sometimes I think it's best to salvage your dignity and move forward than to humor an old joke with no real punchline. If I were to be really honest I have no clue what to do except move forward. Even when I really don't feel like it. It does frustrate me that I often just feel like I'm not even there. Or worse. People never really liked me to begin with and just humored me. That's what it feels like to get ghosted that hard. I also don't think the entire world is like that. I just think growing up America forced a lot of people together under false pretenses. Dumb music scenes over run with hidden agendas. Things that seemed so liberated but were really just little boxes and clubs for people to isolate themselves in. I don't think it stops. It just morphs into what we see now with people arguing the world on little cage matches like twitter and whatever. I prefer to keep it low key after all has been said and done. And I think I've grown to communicate that I understand the way it goes without having to be told. So much so that I don't really have any fear of missing out. I do have a fear of inviting somebody over for a lukewarm shower. And this I would never do unless it was you. But for the record, how I finessed that shower head is exactly how I approach difficult situations. With patience and timing. Sure it probably took ten years. I hope the career thing doesn't take that long. But I'll get through as long as I don't compare my journey to the rest of what's going on out there. Which is a perfect way to wrap this up for the rest of you. Whatever goes on at surface level doesn't really change the depths to which people like me have sunk. It's literal SpongeBob leagues I exist in down here. I'd have something catchier to say if I actually watched the show. Maybe that's what they'll end up paying me for. That and being a trophy husband. <3 Tim

[andrea-lyn]

fic list for accountability and to stop my brain from being whiny about something it has no right to be whiny about (you’re not even in that fandom anymore, of course no one knows you anymore):

- TOG canon-divergent au! It’s 12k words, it’s clicking along, I’ve been jumping to the future scenes, I’m also tempted to start posting it WIP and I need to not do that because no, bad - Pynch Inception AU, which got a lot of work done (who would’ve thunk putting on the Inception soundtrack would do something). That one hit 7k yesterday, so woo - Pynch baby future divergent thing hit 6k today and is mostly Gansey and Declan and Calla taking turns being disappointed with Ronan. This one is super self-indulgent, so I’m not in a rush - Malex baby fic (hey, let’s keep up the theme). This is a fic I had formerly abandoned that I unearthed, but I’m completely revamping the style, so I’ve been going through to shorten/tighten up scenes. It’s technically the third in the No Love Like Your Love ‘verse - Ted Lasso remix - I picked the fic! I have almost 1k! It’s going to be Rebecca gen, and I’m excited because I haven’t written enough Rebecca stuff - New Ted Lasso fic idea, which will be a Roy centric thing, around 1x08 and dealing with Keeley feels, which I’m hoping to finish before S2, but we’ll see  - Cowrite - Where I present it to @christchex with puppy-dog eyes and hope inspiration comes along 

[amazing-spiderling]

4, 17, 28

4. What is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

Hmm... that's pretty hard. I think the actual plot bunny I've had tucked in the back of my brain the longest isn't actually fanfic, but a story that was inspired after I read "American Gods". (And a little bit after seeing Batman Beyond? Haha, stay with me here.) TLDR the general population is all super powered in some way or form, whether it's physical mutation (something like wings), a super power (laser eyes, super strength) or cybernetic augmentation. But the story follows a small crew of characters that for one reason or another do not have powers, and because of this are basically undocumented/non-entities. While this makes their lives harder in many ways, it also means they're able to operate under the radar and so they've formed a group that helps people with their various problems when they have nowhere else to turn. It was kind of an ambitious project and I thought of the idea (and some of the characters long enough ago) that I think it would need a bit of an overhaul (and probably multiple sensitivity readers since some of the characters were neurodivergent).

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

I answered this already but I'll give you another line I wrote. This one is from a story that took me absolutely ages to write- it's a Metal Gear Solid prequel story I wrote for an anthology I organized. This story is about Hal Emmerich (Otacon) as a teenager, dealing with the stilted relationships in his relationship and generally feeling adrift and disconnected from people, which helps explain his state of mind before he was taken advantage of by his step mother. I did a lot of watching "The Graduate" before writing this one (a movie I fully believe influenced Kojima in regards to Hal and the Emmerichs in general). The story opens with a birthday party for Hal's younger step-sister, Emma, and the guests are made up of his father's professional acquaintances and other people Hal barely knows. At one point, a guest comes and gives Hal the general "Is that you, my how you've grown" greeting and Hal responds thusly:

It’s Hal

I’m me.

“It’s me.”  He has no idea who the man is, but it doesn’t seem to matter.'

--

It's not the most flowery bit of writing, but there's something about the emptiness of the phrasing that makes Hal seem distant, even from his own identity and I really like that.

28. Handwritten notes or typed notes?

Oh, gosh, typed all the way. Sometimes it takes the form of me blabbing to a friend at 3 am. Sometimes it's just me brainstorming in a google doc. I would absolutely lose anything I jotted down on paper, so it's nice to have something I can access from anywhere, especially if I want to share and idea with a friend and get some feedback.

[failedintsave]

Help I've contracted terminal one-shot brainrot. I ventured out from my usual writing playlists and suddenly I have 5 WIPS instead of 1. Someone send coffee.

Acts of Service

The door to Twinkletits' office shut behind Toki with a click of finality, leaving him in the empty hallway with only his thoughts, muddled as they were. Normally he left a session with the therapist with at least some sense of clarity as they unwound his tangled emotions and experiences, but lately he'd felt as though he'd been haunting the corridors of Mordhaus in a fog.

Twinkletits called it seasonal affective, said some things about lack of daylight bringing it on, but Toki had his doubts. He'd grown up where winters were much darker and bleaker. He was well acquainted with the weighty oppression of the darkness. This felt different. It wasn't the sun he missed. He felt adrift, disconnected.

Even in his earliest memories Toki had always loved the holiday season. It was one of the rare times of the year that his father's church services had seemed less funerary, the inside of the chapel adorned with candles and pine boughs. When he'd gotten older and left home he'd been further enamored by the commotion and color of the season's celebration. Sparkling lights and brightly colored wrapping papers dazzled him, but his favorite part of it all was the effect the holidays seemed to have on people. They were kinder; gestures of affection and goodwill between friends and strangers alike woke a need within him. He wanted more than anything to share that kind of joyful connection with someone.

The fact that the rest of Dethklok didn't share his passion for the season of giving hadn't mattered. Every year he joyfully showered his bandmates with extravagant purchases and tried to convey his love without outright stating it and being called out on the band's strict "no caring" rule. Even though his efforts were usually received with disinterest or ignored entirely, it hardly fazed him.

But since his captivity Toki had struggled to feel connected to anyone. After the fiasco that was the Murderface/Knubbler Christmas Special last year, everyone was content to let the holiday slip by unnoticed, without even the distraction of a visit from their mothers, off on some booze drenched Christmas cruise. The holidays came and went without fanfare and time continued to slip by unmarked until Toki wasn't sure what day it was. Was it still even January, or had he drifted through an entire month?

He trudged past the doorway leading to the rec room, glancing in to where Pickles and Murderface sat watching tv, Nathan on the far end of the couch with his reading glasses and a newspaper. His movement must have caught the drummer's eye, Pickles turned his head to face the door, tipping his chin up in acknowledgment but saying nothing before returning his gaze to the screen ahead of him. Toki floated away down the hall in silence, an aimless spectre.

For a little while after his recovery the band had made real efforts to welcome him home. Murderface toned down the art of being a dick, instead offering frequent encouragement as Toki reacclimated to normal life. Pickles accompanied him to most of his physical therapy sessions, giving some excuse that he wasn't getting any younger himself and could probably use some mobility coaching. And Nathan, ever conservative with his words, had been a near constant presence, always finding a reason to pat Toki on the back or put a hand on his shoulder. But as time dragged on their day-to-day routines gradually faded back to the casual indifference of yesterday, and Toki felt himself begin to slide.

Twinkletits had made some suggestions today, mostly the usual things, exercise, light therapy, working on a hobby. He hadn't really had any desire to work on his modeling kits in months but maybe it was worth a shot. Toki pushed open the door to his bedroom and was surprised to find it occupied. 

Skwisgaar looked up from where he was seated on Toki's mattress, Flying V cradled in his lap. An opened pack of Dunlop strings and a pair of wire cutters lay next to him.

Stepping into the room, Toki tilted his head to the side. "What ams you doing?"

Skwisgaar's mouth quirked into a wry grin. "I believes you ams at least partially familiars wif dis inskruments." He twisted one of the tuning pegs, down-tuning another string for removal. "I'ms just restringings it, don't worries, nots here to sabotage you."

"But dats my guitar."

"Ja, I dids mine earlier and den I t'oughts yours ams probably dues for a fresh set too so…" he shrugged, turning his attention back to the instrument.

Toki watched as nimble fingers threaded stainless steel filaments through the bridge of his guitar with practiced ease, stepping closer as he struggled to swallow around a lump rising in his throat. He reached out to grasp the neck of the instrument, gently lifting it out of Skwisgaar's hands and setting it aside on the floor.

"I wasn't dones wif dat!" Skwisgaar's eyes tracked the guitar to it's stand, empty hands splayed open.

"It can waits."

Toki climbed onto the bed, arms snaking around the other man's middle. He buried his face between the bony ridges of Skwisgaar's collarbones, practically crawling into his lap to claim the now vacated space. The blonde made a quiet sound of surprise and wrapped slender arms behind Toki's shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Concern laced the murmured question, Skwisgaar's breath warming the crown of Toki's head. "Ams you okej?"

Toki nodded, pressing closer as Skwisgaar angled them to lean back against the pillows, palm rubbing comforting circles on his back.

"You shores?"

"Ja." And he was. Maybe not entirely, but at least for now. The darkness would recede eventually, the sun would return, but for now he could be content in the illumination of the golden heartbeat beneath his cheek.

It was enough.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

otp asks 1, 4, 9? 👀

My final ask for the night! I'm so appreciative of everybody that sends these, just so you all know! *sends all the hugs and good vibes!* Like, I'm gonna be sappy here for a minute and just say, thank you because I really didn't think anyone would ever be interested in Fane or any of my ideas, so again, thank you! And I will try to reciprocate more often (work bogs me down and then I hop on to ask stuff and I'm like, "Noooo! All of them are taken! D:")

*sniffles like a CHILD* ANYWAYS, LET ME BE SAPPY WITH OTHER THINGS!

1. What are things they both find funny?

I did answer this in another ask, BUT I have something else! >:D

He wanted to do it. He didn't know why, but he wanted to do it. It was so tempting, so tantalizing. It wouldn't do any harm, surely! Just a quick one. Two seconds tops! The force would be undeniable! A passion unleashed as centuries of yearning exploded with the fluttering and clattering of objects! His body light, his soul flying!

He needed to do it!

"Fane, do not--"

"You don't understand, Solas. I have to."

"No, no you do not."

"It won't do anything harmful!"

"You will destroy the table!"

"It's a table, you old fart! I can buy a new one!"

"Fane."

"I'm doing it. End of discussion. Here I...GO!"

There it was. Freeing, falling, flying until his boots connected with hard wood, a surface splintering, cracking, snapping as the force of his desire split Solas's desk in two. Cleanly, Fane would admit as he inspected his destruction, having vaulted over the railing from the rookery down to the rotunda.

"See? No harm, no foul.", Fane said, indicating with a sweep of his arm to the remnants of the desk as well as strewn about books, candles, and various parchments. "Just a mess. One I will not be cleaning up because you wouldn't let me do this from the battlements to begin with."

Solas stood directly next to where he was surrounded by debris, pinching the bridge of his nose and sucking in deep breaths through it to no doubt calm seething exasperation at his little stunt.

"Why must you do this? What can you not just accept you you cannot fly?", Solas questioned, voice strained and trying oh so very hard not to rise.

"I haven't observed enough to conclude I can't fly. So, I can't accept it until then.", Fane said with a shrug. He thought the mage knew how his nature operated by now.

"You have no wings!", Solas exclaimed finally, throwing his hand down form his nose to level Fane with a blue-grey glare.

"Again, not enough observation to conclude that."

"I..I..", Solas gaped before taking in another deep, steadying breath before methodically and mechanically beginning to clean up his workspace that had become the sight of a dragon attack. "I suppose I see the logic. Yes. Yes, of course. Carry on as you were, ma'isenatha."

Fane watched the mage slowly gather his things, occasionally slamming a book a bit too harshly as an eyebrow twitched and lips muttered incoherently, stormy eyes swirling with a hurricane, but not connecting with his own lest it unleash its true fury. He shrugged a bit, turning his gaze away from the raging storm of his lover to once again inspect the fruits of his desires with silent pride. He had had his release, and it felt good, even if it were just for a moment.

And next time would be the battlements, wings or no.

(Himbo Fane? Very tired Solas? It's more likely than you think! :D)

4. What would be their ship name?

I was thinking about this for a while, not gonna lie. XD But I kind of wanted to take Fane's draconic name 'Aterian' and combine it with Solas' name.

Sooooo...'Solarian'? Or 'Atlas'?! Is this how ship names work? Pffft!

9. Have they made each other cry?

Yes, but not through an argument or anything. It's more that the truth has led them to make the other cry. Fane and Solas don't mince words with each other. They don't placate the other with comforting words because they both know that it isn't the truth. Right now, I'm writing my 'Finding Skyhold' scene for my main fic, and basically, it's a very, very hard time for Fane because everything has come back to him. His memories, his identity, his connection with Solas; all of it. However, between all that, Fane still feels disconnected, lost, adrift, grey. He doesn't know what or who he's supposed to be, even though his memories are saying, in bold letters, 'dragon'. It's the first everyone will read of Fane crying, like I mean crying, and in that moment he just looks at Solas and asks, "Who am I? What am I? What am I?!" and Solas just stares at him, gives him one of those sad smiles of his, and says, "I don't know. Ir abelas. I don't know." and that breaks Fane, but not adversely. It's the truth, and as painful as it is, he wants the truth, not platitudes.

In regards to Solas, Fane makes him cry during the assault on Haven. The least opportune time, I know, but there's a lot of shit that goes down during the transition from Haven to Skyhold. Suffice it to say, the orb that Corypheus possesses, Solas' orb, of course, sends Fane into a frenzy and this frenzy is what killed him centuries before. At this point, Solas has suspicions around Fane's identity, but he's been denying them for fear and from grief. But when he witnesses Fane just break and start destroying literally anything his eyes land upon, it all clicks into place, it all makes sense and Solas is overcome with so many emotions that he breaks while trying to wrangle Fane into submission, to bring his dragon back when he had failed to do so before. However, the real tears don't begin to flow until he sees crimson ebb away from emerald and gold. Fane and Solas are practically body to body as a staff blade cuts into a since then perfect pale cheek, and as blood drips and forms tremble, chests heaving and both wide eyed as they stare at each other in fear, in recognition, in disbelief, the only thing Solas can think to say as tears pour down his sullied face and the weightless one has when falling backwards surrounds him is:

"You're alive." *chef's kiss*

[ladyartemesia]

▨ Lady Artemesia’s Milestone Message and Milestone  Fic Preview ▨

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Dear Mutuals and Followers,

When I started this blog nearly six months ago(ish?) I never expected to fall so in love with the lovely people in this community. You have been wonderful and supportive and I have truly enjoyed getting to know you, and talking to you, and loving BTS proudly alongside of you. Thank you for every moment, I have so many truly incredible moots - ALL of whom are SIGNIFICANTLY cooler than I am - and if I attempted to list you all, my perpetually scattered brain would no doubt forget someone and I’d have to fall apart dramatically about it. So...to all of you - thank you for following me. I am so bloomin thrilled that you do. To my amazing mutuals - each and every one of you are brilliant creators and supportive members of our community and I benefit every day from the art and positive energy you bring to my dash. Thank you so much...

to my hearts... 

There are a few of you who have been much closer than others and you I must recognize with only these inadequate words...

I utterly adore you. Thank you for being my friend.

▨ Amazing Ana @xjoonchildx​  ▨ Wonderful Lindy @ppersonna​ ▨ Sweet Sunshine Donna @taetaewonderland​ ▨ My First Friend and Angel Jahni @glossyfever​  ▨ Fabulous Lemon @lemonjoonah​ ▨  and my fellow Thirst Queen Reese (there is a line in this fic I wrote just for you - you’ll prolly know right away) @luxekook​ ▨

Honestly there are many more names I could put on this list, Many more people I have grown close to and I will continue to grow close too - believe me when I say - I luv and appreciate you all, but there are 7 members of BTS and these 6 ladies are - in many ways - my “other 6.” The roles they have played in my growth as a writer and a creator have been significant. They read my work, encourage me, hype me up, share my finished products, and - most importantly - share their friendship. I am blessed to be a part of their world.

Thank You All... My Lovlies...

- Viola

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Heart of the Storm

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• FIC PREVIEW •

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Genre: Fluff • Smut • Hint of Angst • Secret Feelings/Strangers to Lovers

Word Count: 4kish (preview 1kish)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort • Hints of Classism • JK is Soft and Strong (full fic has more warnings)

Rating: Explicit/18+ (for the full fic)

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the handsome RA that you could never quite bring yourself to talk to, and you are the ice princess whose status kept you far out of his reach... But a selfless act of kindness in the midst of a terrible storm forges an unexpected bond between you - one that could break your guarded heart... or finally set it free. 

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This is the song JK sings...

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You’re afraid of storms. 

Born to privilege (at least so you’ve been told), but money could not buy the love of absent parents, nor could it purchase any sort of freedom from the kind of fear that gripped you now. 

You shouldn’t even be here...

Alone in a dorm while everyone around you caught planes and trains and buses back to their diverse points of origin. 

The girl who usually slept in the bed across from yours is your roommate and  best friend since sophomore year of high school. She was a scholarship case at the elite private prep where the obscenely wealthy dynasties of Southern California sent their entitled spawn. 

A lone pair of Chuck Taylors in a sea of Jimmy Choos.

And a breath of fresh air.

Her father worked in stores; your father owned them. Yet you had become sisters in the truest sense of the word.  

When the storms came, she climbed into your bed and held you till the thunder died down. 

But she and the comfort of her familiar embrace were 30,000 feet above you now; well on the way to celebrate the spring holidays with her chaotic tribe. 

You could have escaped for the week - like the majority of your peers - but your father was on vacation with his new wife (who graduated from high school a mere four years before you did) and the dorms were infinitely more inviting than the sterile halls of your family’s real estate holdings. 

So here you were. 

Alone in a storm.

Or so you thought...

Being an RA looked good on resumes and paid better than most work study jobs, but for Jeon Jungkook, the obligation to stay in the dorms over spring break (when he could be chasing music festivals along the California coast) was a definite downside. 

He heard the sobs on his way up from the laundry and dropped the basket of clean clothes on the stairs. 

Only one person signed up to stay over the holidays - the only person who managed to spark shivers down his spine without effort or awareness. 

The princess. 

That’s what they called you when they thought you weren’t listening - an unoriginal label laced with jealousy and petty bitterness. 

But it fit you, nonetheless. 

Elegant even when you were clumsy. Distant even in a crowd. Reserved in ways that spoke of intensive social training and endless expectations. 

And you were screaming. 

His hand wrapped around your doorknob in a matter of seconds, but you could not hear him calling out to you over the thunder and the ringing in your ears. 

You did not hear the lock splinter when he slammed his body against the frame like his father taught him to do in case of a fire or an emergency.

Jungkook saw you often in and out of the dorms - yet you never really spoke to him, never offered him more than the occasional pleasantry or disinterested smile. 

He was out of your orbit and you were out of his league. 

But the princess was nowhere in sight now...

Now you were just a terrified girl curled up on her bed and Jungkook felt his heart wrench painfully at the sight of you so untethered. 

You could not see him - even though he stood right in front of you. It wasn’t till his hands connected with your shoulders that you finally registered the presence of another human being and slowly brought your eyes up to meet his.

There was a moment of silence as your gazes melded together in a strange intimate haze unlike anything either of you had encountered before. 

Then you reached out - curling your hand into the loose fabric of his shirt as you yanked him down on top of you. 

“Please,” you whispered into the firm plane of his chest, “please hold me.”

Strong muscled arms wrapped around you.

And for the first time in so very long...

You felt safe.

He smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of vanilla.

But oh...

He felt like home.

Not the many houses you grew up in - but a home. The kind you only ever heard of.

“It’s ok,” he whispered, lips pressed intimately to the sweet softness of your hair, “I’ve got you.” 

Thunder shook the room again and you burrowed impossibly closer to him, too frightened to notice that you wore only a t-shirt and nothing else, too terrified to care that the haven you sought was the beautiful man you passed by countless times in last few months, but could never quite work up the courage to speak to. 

Now your body tangled desperately with his, drawing immeasurable comfort from his solid warmth and the soothing circles he traced over your back. 

Jungkook was profoundly aware of both your state of undress and the soft curves of your body pressed insistently against his own, but that awareness paled in comparison to the fierce wave of protectiveness swelling up within him. 

You were no damsel in distress. You were brilliant, beautiful, and president of the self-defense club. He’d seen you flip a linebacker over your shoulder like a pancake during a demonstration once (which had given him an immediate boner for reasons he deliberately never explored).

But right now - right here - in this moment - you needed him... and holding you close - keeping you safe was the only thing on his mind. 

The tremors came and went sporadically as the storm raged on around you. His arms were an anchor each time the fear threatened to sweep you away. 

It took a few minutes for your scattered senses to identify the new sound braiding hypnotically in between the rolls of thunder and the rhythmic cadence of your own breathing. 

Jeon Jungkook was singing to you. 

Another time it might have amused you to consider that a man whose face and form bordered on sinful possessed a voice that was utterly angelic. The notes he sang curled through the air, piercing effortlessly past the fog to wrap over your heart like a warm blanket. 

“I see you getting sad... I see it running through your blood...”

Your muscles began to relax. The pounding in your chest began to slow. 

“Let it run like water out of mud...”

Your breathing gradually evened out.

“Yell the sadness loud... Throw it up against the wall...”

Sensation crept back into your limbs. Awareness returned. 

“See what stays then go and put it on... It keeps you warm…”

And suddenly you were in his arms - truly in his arms for the first time that night. 

“I will love you anyway with all your demons in the way… Nothing can keep us apart...I walk through walls into your heart…”

His warmth was everywhere. The gentle comfort he brushed over your skin swirled around you till the sound of the storm faded away. 

Till there was only him. 

“I don’t mind… I don’t mind… I don’t ...mind…”

He felt the change in you, the incremental return from disconnected terror to tentative presence of mind, but you made no move to disentangle yourself, content to let his touch and his voice chase away the last trace of your nightmare. 

You would stay in this moment - safe and surrounded and so unexpectedly content - forever if you could. 

Jeon Jungkook had found you adrift and pulled you back from the edge. He’d done what no one else could..

What no one else (save your best friend) had even bothered to try.  

And he’d done it selflessly.  

As a corporate princess, you were worth millions in assets, but so often left begging for pittance when it came to genuine care. 

You would have paid millions to be held like this just once. 

The adrenaline raging through your body finally began to dissipate, and in its immediate wake, exhaustion crashed over you heavy and hard. 

Sleep tugged insistently at the corners of your mind, but one last coherent urge burned so brightly that it could not be ignored or overtaken. 

Your fingers twisted into the thick curls at the nape of his neck, drawing him down till you felt the soft press of his lips against your own. 

You had never kissed like this; intimately - languidly - as if the brush of his mouth against yours was familiar across worlds and lifetimes. The small intake breath before he gave in to your gentle exploration was the loveliest sound you had ever heard. 

He was the song that drew you - not like a siren to your doom - but like a lighthouse to the shore. 

• ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ • ▨ ▨ ▨ ▨ •

FULL FIC POSTING TUESDAY 6/30

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[life-observed]

The Moral Peril of Meritocracy

Our individualistic culture inflames the ego and numbs the spirit. Failure teaches us who we are.

April 6, 2019

David Brooks

By David Brooks

Mr. Brooks is an Opinion columnist. This essay is adapted from his forthcoming book, “The Second Mountain: The Quest for a Moral Life.”

Many of the people I admire lead lives that have a two-mountain shape. They got out of school, began their career, started a family and identified the mountain they thought they were meant to climb — I’m going to be an entrepreneur, a doctor, a cop. They did the things society encourages us to do, like make a mark, become successful, buy a home, raise a family, pursue happiness.

People on the first mountain spend a lot of time on reputation management. They ask: What do people think of me? Where do I rank? They’re trying to win the victories the ego enjoys.

These hustling years are also powerfully shaped by our individualistic and meritocratic culture. People operate under this assumption: I can make myself happy. If I achieve excellence, lose more weight, follow this self-improvement technique, fulfillment will follow.

But in the lives of the people I’m talking about — the ones I really admire — something happened that interrupted the linear existence they had imagined for themselves. Something happened that exposed the problem with living according to individualistic, meritocratic values.

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Some of them achieved success and found it unsatisfying. They figured there must be more to life, some higher purpose. Others failed. They lost their job or endured some scandal. Suddenly they were falling, not climbing, and their whole identity was in peril. Yet another group of people got hit sideways by something that wasn’t part of the original plan. They had a cancer scare or suffered the loss of a child. These tragedies made the first-mountain victories seem, well, not so important.

Life had thrown them into the valley, as it throws most of us into the valley at one point or another. They were suffering and adrift.

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Some people are broken by this kind of pain and grief. They seem to get smaller and more afraid, and never recover. They get angry, resentful and tribal.

But other people are broken open. The theologian Paul Tillich wrote that suffering upends the normal patterns of life and reminds you that you are not who you thought you were. The basement of your soul is much deeper than you knew. Some people look into the hidden depths of themselves and they realize that success won’t fill those spaces. Only a spiritual life and unconditional love from family and friends will do. They realize how lucky they are. They are down in the valley, but their health is O.K.; they’re not financially destroyed; they’re about to be dragged on an adventure that will leave them transformed.

They realize that while our educational system generally prepares us for climbing this or that mountain, your life is actually defined by how you make use of your moment of greatest adversity.

So how does moral renewal happen? How do you move from a life based on bad values to a life based on better ones?

First, there has to be a period of solitude, in the wilderness, where self-reflection can occur.

“What happens when a ‘gifted child’ findshimself in a wilderness where he’s stripped away of any way of proving his worth?” Belden Lane asks in “Backpacking With the Saints.” What happens where there is no audience, nothing he can achieve? He crumbles. The ego dissolves. “Only then is he able to be loved.”

That’s the key point here. The self-centered voice of the ego has to be quieted before a person is capable of freely giving and receiving love.

Then there is contact with the heart and soul — through prayer, meditation, writing, whatever it is that puts you in contact with your deepest desires.

“In the deeps are the violence and terror of which psychology has warned us,” Annie Dillard writes in “Teaching a Stone to Talk.” “But if you ride these monsters deeper down, if you drop with them farther over the world’s rim, you find what our sciences cannot locate or name, the substrate, the ocean or matrix or ether which buoys the rest, which gives goodness its power for good, and evil its power for evil, the unified field: our complex and inexplicable caring for each other.”

In the wilderness the desire for esteem is stripped away and bigger desires are made visible: the desires of the heart (to live in loving connection with others) and the desires of the soul (the yearning to serve some transcendent ideal and to be sanctified by that service).

When people are broken open in this way, they are more sensitive to the pains and joys of the world. They realize: Oh, that first mountain wasn’t my mountain. I am ready for a larger journey.

Some people radically change their lives at this point. They quit corporate jobs and teach elementary school. They dedicate themselves to some social or political cause. I know a woman whose son committed suicide. She says that the scared, self-conscious woman she used to be died with him. She found her voice and helps families in crisis. I recently met a guy who used to be a banker. That failed to satisfy, and now he helps men coming out of prison. I once corresponded with a man from Australia who lost his wife, a tragedy that occasioned a period of reflection. He wrote, “I feel almost guilty about how significant my own growth has been as a result of my wife’s death.”

Perhaps most of the people who have emerged from a setback stay in their same jobs, with their same lives, but they are different. It’s not about self anymore; it’s about relation, it’s about the giving yourself away. Their joy is in seeing others shine.

In their book “Practical Wisdom,” Barry Schwartz and Kenneth Sharpe tell the story of a hospital janitor named Luke. In Luke’s hospital there was a young man who’d gotten into a fight and was now in a permanent coma. The young man’s father sat with him every day in silent vigil, and every day Luke cleaned the room. But one day the father was out for a smoke when Luke cleaned it.

Later that afternoon, the father found Luke and snapped at him for not cleaning the room. The first-mountain response is to see your job as cleaning rooms. Luke could have snapped back: I did clean the room. You were out smoking. The second-mountain response is to see your job as serving patients and their families. In that case you’d go back in the room and clean it again, so that the father could have the comfort of seeing you do it. And that’s what Luke did.

If the first mountain is about building up the ego and defining the self, the second is about shedding the ego and dissolving the self. If the first mountain is about acquisition, the second mountain is about contribution.

On the first mountain, personal freedom is celebrated — keeping your options open, absence of restraint. But the perfectly free life is the unattached and unremembered life. Freedom is not an ocean you want to swim in; it is a river you want to cross so that you can plant yourself on the other side.

So the person on the second mountain is making commitments. People who have made a commitment to a town, a person, an institution or a cause have cast their lot and burned the bridges behind them. They have made a promise without expecting a return. They are all in.

I can now usually recognize first- and second-mountain people. The former have an ultimate allegiance to self; the latter have an ultimate allegiance to some commitment. I can recognize first- and second-mountain organizations too. In some organizations, people are there to serve their individual self-interests — draw a salary. But other organizations demand that you surrender to a shared cause and so change your very identity. You become a Marine, a Morehouse Man.

I’ve been describing moral renewal in personal terms, but of course whole societies and cultures can swap bad values for better ones. I think we all realize that the hatred, fragmentation and disconnection in our society is not just a political problem. It stems from some moral and spiritual crisis.

We don’t treat one another well. And the truth is that 60 years of a hyper-individualistic first-mountain culture have weakened the bonds between people. They’ve dissolved the shared moral cultures that used to restrain capitalism and the meritocracy.

Over the past few decades the individual, the self, has been at the center. The second-mountain people are leading us toward a culture that puts relationships at the center. They ask us to measure our lives by the quality of our attachments, to see that life is a qualitative endeavor, not a quantitative one. They ask us to see others at their full depths, and not just as a stereotype, and to have the courage to lead with vulnerability. These second-mountain people are leading us into a new culture. Culture change happens when a small group of people find a better way to live and the rest of us copy them. These second-mountain people have found it.

Their moral revolution points us toward a different goal. On the first mountain we shoot for happiness, but on the second mountain we are rewarded with joy. What’s the difference? Happiness involves a victory for the self. It happens as we move toward our goals. You get a promotion. You have a delicious meal.

Joy involves the transcendence of self. When you’re on the second mountain, you realize we aim too low. We compete to get near a little sunlamp, but if we lived differently, we could feel the glow of real sunshine. On the second mountain you see that happiness is good, but joy is better.

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XXIV. Un Suspiro Acompasado

A/N: Guys I’m back! I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the patience and the kind message, you guys are amazing and I feel lucky you read me x 

BLUE’S POV

My eyes are left adrift in front of the mirror. I’m combing my hair and my makeup is done and I’m wearing the red lipstick Marie got me for Christmas but I’m hardly seeing anything beyond the memories of better times that blurry my vision. It’s only been four days since I know nothing from Harry but they’ve felt like ages.

I hate myself for missing him so bad but the only thing I need to stop myself from crawling back to him is thinking about his indifference. I don’t understand why he was so insisting and desperate for me to hear him out during Christmas and just forgot all about me right after I finally did.

I’d love to say things have gone back to normal, that everything is right back on its place as if it had never happened since he’s not following me around and messing everything up but that just wouldn’t be true. It’s like I lost something that has changed me forever and I just don’t know where to look for it now.

When I’ve brushed all of my hair twice, I open the bathroom door and find Coco going through my earrings. She’s wearing a golden silk dress that makes her look like the human form of a flute of champagne but she gives me a panic look.

“I don’t know what earrings to wear.”

I roll my eyes and try to help her. I suck at choosing jewellery which is why I always wear the same earrings and the same necklace my Mum got me when I started studying Medicine but I stand there in the role of emotional support.

I can see my profile on the full body length mirror in the door of my wardrobe. I’m wearing a black sequin tight dress with long sleeves but backless. There’s a single button that rests over my seventh vertebra where the fabric that covers both my shoulders joins but then there’s no more sequins and no more fabric at all until the dress hugs the lowest part of my back, right where my underwear begins.

It's New Years Eve and everyone’s ready for the new year to begin even though I don’t believe that anybody wants this year to end more than I do.

“¡Niñas!” (Girls!) My mum calls for us from downstairs. “¿Estáis listas?” (Are you ready?”

“¡Sí!” Coco yells uncouthly and I give her a look but she just chuckles. “Me encanta ser ordinaria cuando llevo ropa cara.” (I love to act vulgar when I wear expensive clothes). She giggles. “You should try it, it’s funny.”

I chuckle along with her as we both make our way downstairs. My mum looks like one of our friends with that black dress she’s wearing. Her long black hair is down and naturally wavy and Coco did a very nice job with her makeup; smokey eyes and nude lipstick.

“Estás guapísima, mamá.” (You look gorgeous, mum.)

“¿Qué dices? Tú sí que estás guapísima. Las dos lo estáis.” (What are you talking about? You look gorgeous. You both do.)

Mum’s driving us to our party before she leaves for hers and sitting in the back of the car, I can see how much of a resemblance there is between my mum and my sister. It’s almost scary for my mum looks like a future Coco and I think I can’t wait for Coco to be 57 years old to find out if they’re really alike.

I get excited on the way to the club. I’ve decided I’m gonna have a good time and not think about Harry. I’ve had enough of that and what has to be will be but there won’t be any rushing of things on my part and I’m guessing on his either.

I’m excited to see Olivia. She came back from France in the morning and JJ and Marie are also gonna be there. Marie’s bringing Adam but nobody said anything about Harry and I didn’t ask either and Olivia’s got herself a date with Mario. Apparently, they’ve been talking ever since Jack did the ass move of the year and Ollie seemed pretty excited on the phone earlier.

Coco and I make our way inside the majestic hotel the party is taking place and give our coats to the cloakroom girl. My gorgeous looking sister holds my hand and guides me across the hall and towards the second room where soft music plays around fairy lights. I spot our group standing around a tall table.

I hug my friends. They all look ridiculously gorgeous. Olivia wears her blond hair perfectly straightened and falling on her chest and back over the little precious stones that adorn her silver cocktail dress and Marie wears her signature bun with a little black dress with a see-through neckline that fits her perfectly; sexy but safe, so to say.

Turning around, I see Jason pretending to be gladly surprised by my looks, and I chuckle and shake my head.

“Looking good in that white suit jacket, JJ.”

He smiled.

“I have to stand out, you know? I’m single now.”

“Damn right you are.” I grab a champagne flute from the waiter that walks right behind me. “And I’ll drink to that.”

He laughs.

“Now seriously, you look like you just came out of The Great Gatsby.”

“Except there’s no Leonardo Dicaprio.”

“Except that.” Jason smiles.

“How are you?” Olivia’s hand rests on my lower back and I give her a smile.

“I’m good, thank you.” I frown but smile. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, you know.” She shrugs and gives Marie a SOS look. “I was wondering how you were holding up after… The breakup.”

“What breakup now?” I look at Marie.

Her lips part in a small oh and her eyes open wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“You know, Adam and I talk.” She shrugs.

“You mean Adam and you mind everybody’s business.”

“Harry told him you guys were not seeing each other anymore.” She frowns.

I feel a punch on the pit of my belly.

“Yeah, that’s right. We… We aren’t.” But I pretend I am long past it even though they just confirmed what I thought was happening.  

“And you’re… Just okay with that?” Ollie frowns.

“Yes!” Everyone’s frowning. “What, guys? Why are you making such a big deal? It’s fine. I’m just worried I won’t find sex like that in a while.” I fake giggle.

“Was it really that good?” Jason intervenes for the first time in what feels like a very long, very embarrassing interrogation.

“I mean… Never mind.” I chuckle.

“No, it does mind. Do share.”

“It was just the way he… Like kind of worshipped my body, you know, but like all of it.” I shrug. “I felt…”

“Loved.”

“Desired.” I correct Marie but she purses her lips to hide her smile and raises her eyebrows.

I shake my head and try to derail the conversation.

“What about you, Ollie? How are you?”

Ever since Jack said those things about her, she’s been struggling not to bump into someone who already knew. It’s strange how those ridiculous things run like gunpowder but it’s not new that a lot of girls didn’t like Olivia already and I guess this kind of was the perfect way to finally humiliate her.

“I’m fine.”

She smiles for as if on cue, Mario appears with two drinks on his hands and gives one to her. The way her body melted and made room for him surprises me. My God, she’s smitten and she’s Olivia and this is so cute to behold.

“Oh, hello, Indie. Happy New Year. If I had known you were here I would have gotten you a drink. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be!” I hug him. “Happy New Year to you too.”

He stands next to Olivia but turns in conversation with Jason and I notice Marie is nowhere to be found. Coco and Guido seem to be in their own bubble but I’ll have to go say hi when they don’t look so cosy.

“Where did Marie go?”

“She’s probably with Adam.” She shrugs. “I’m thinking about broadening my horizons.” She goes back to my first question it seems.

“Broadening your horizons? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know… These weeks in France have been wonderful. I was thinking maybe transferring to Paris or something.”

“But like- forever?” I panic.

She shrugs, holding back a little smirk.

“But you can’t leave! I mean, wouldn’t you miss us? And what about Mario? You finally start a relationship and now you’re leaving him?”

“Mario would have to understand. If he didn’t, that would be a total deal breaker. Plus, we’re not even in a relationship or at least not in the traditional kind of relationship. We’re both free humans who-”

“You’re not in an open relationship with Mario, are you?”

I’m not being judgemental. I have no problems at all with open relationships it’s just Mario doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy fitted for that. I mean he told me himself he falls very quickly and I could see how heartbroken he was about Olivia’s rejection so I’m just afraid he’s told her yes because he would take whatever it is she’s willing to give.

My friend nods proudly and I face palm.

“Oh God, Ollie, you’re gonna hurt him.”

“What? Why? Not at all!”

“Wasn’t it your idea then?”

“No, it was, but this is what’s best for us. I’m not in my best moment” her blue eyes beg for my understanding and support- she’ll always have the second “and this will be good for him too. He’s a little too traditional if we’re being fully honest here-”

I disconnect but I let her talk because I already understood. She’s scared because she really likes him and this is just her way of trying to run away from it. Thinking about going to France, having an open relationship… God, she just really doesn’t want to let herself fall in love.

“Why are you smiling like that?” She frowns.

I chuckle and give her a knowing look and she just squints pretending she can’t read my mind at this point.

“You think you’re some sort of guru, alright, I get it.”

I throw my head back and laugh but my laughing cuts short as soon as Harry appears in my visual opening. He wears a black suit with a white shirt and a fucking black bow tie that really makes him look like The Great Gatsby I used to picture in my mind when I read the book.

The air gets kicked out of my lungs with every step he takes because he looks so dreamy and I know everyone has noticed but for the rest of people in this room he’s just a handsome man. He’s so much more to me.

From the corner of my eyes, I watch him greet everybody. He takes a little extra time talking to Coco and that makes me nervous. I don’t want to be a narcissistic asshole but I can’t help considering they might be talking about me. I yearn for hearing him say my name and see how his lips hug the u in Blue when everybody else calls me Indie.

Before I can process what’s happening, he’s stopped in front of me and his green eyes are setting mine on flames. My belly flips and he hasn’t even touched me but it’s like he’s putting all these memories inside my head with that stare and in my mind, all these images are playing… Us in the shower, him making breakfast, us watching a movie, him driving me home…

He doesn’t say anything but I know he likes my dress by the way he’s smirking. He leans in and I feel his warm hand against my bare back as he presses a kiss on my cheek.

“Why are you always so cold?” He frowns.

“I’m an ice floe, don’t you remember?”

“As lovely as usual.” He smirks. “Some things never change.”

“Wait, we’re talking to one another, right? What we’re not doing is seeing each other or so does Marie said because apparently Adam told her you told him. That’s three people, Harry, it takes three people for me to know something I should have known from you.”

“How is that my fault?”

“Well-”

“You’re the one who stopped talking to me.”

I frown. That’s not even true but before I can tell him, Olivia’s hand rests on my shoulder and she almost yells.

“You won’t believe what just happened! Oh, hi, Harry, nice to see you, nice bow tie.” She gives him a smile that lasts a second and then turns back to me. “I was at the bar and this ridiculously hot guy was talking to his friend about you!”

“About me?” I frown. “What do you mean?”

“He literally told his friend ´Indigo Anderson is here, I just saw her´”

“And that’s it?” I laugh.

“He was very handsome.” Her blue eyes widen and I laugh again.

Harry’s still standing there but his jaw is clenched and his shoulders have tensed up. I don’t understand him. He has decided to break up with me, even though there was nothing to break, and hasn’t even had the decency to tell me about it and now he seems not to like that this very handsome stranger knows I’m here? Well, he should have thought twice.

“That’s him!” Ollie says, pointing at the middle of the room with her big grey eyes. “That’s the one.”

Eric Buchanan’s eyes meet mine. I give him a teasing smile and see the corner of his eyes crackle. It’s been a while since Harry doesn’t seem that happy to see me and instead he’s just standing there tensed like a wooden man and I’ve had enough of this so I just make my way towards Eric. He takes the clue and makes his way towards me too so we meet in the middle. Funny how I seem to be unable to do that with Harry.

“Fuck me if it isn’t Indigo Blue Anderson, the soul of every party.” He smiles.

“I’m pretty sure I should be offended but your sarcastic tone is really not sarcastic at all.” I smile back.

“That’s because I wasn’t being sarcastic, miss.” He smiles. “You know I was checking the photos the photographer took at my birthday the other day and he took some while you were honouring me with your dancing” I roll my eyes but he keeps on smiling “and I gotta say they’re pretty good shots.”

“Well your hip movement was kind of hypnotizing” I try mimic his crazy movements and make him blush but he laughs.

“Yeah, wasn’t really talking about that.”

“You’re too flattering, Eric.”

“You remember my name.” He smiles.

“You think I’m an idiot?”

“No” he laughs “I just think you’re way out of my league.”

“Still too flattering.”

He chuckles. I notice his eyes look somewhere behind me and then back at me for enough times to make me curious, so I raise my eyebrows questioningly.

“Trouble in paradise?”

I tilt my neck and spot Harry glaring at us from the spot where he pretends to be paying attention to Mario and Adam and I roll my eyes. I don’t even have to change the topic because one of Eric’s friends pulls from his shoulder and all but yells that they’re taking a group photo. His lips turn upside down as he points at his friend on his back but I dismiss him with a smile and a shake of my hand.

“I will however catch you later.”

“You seem so sure of it.” I joke.

Am I flirting? Oh my God, I think I’m flirting. What am I doing?

My throat is dry. I need a drink. I turn around and I can tell I’m frowning when Marie hands me a drink. I look down at it and realize it’s probably gin and tonic.

“Thanks.” I have a sip. Yeah, Bulldog and Mediterranean.

“Way to go, girl.” Ollie frowns impressed next to me.

“What?”

“That’s probably what you need.” Marie adds. “After all, the quickest way to get over one man is…”

“What? No! We were just talking.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what most people do when they flirt.”

“We weren’t flirting!”

Or at least they can’t know that, they didn’t hear us. Looking over at Eric, I realize he is indeed a very, very handsome man. He’s tall too and his body is just very manly and I think under any other circumstances, I would be attracted to him. I mean- am I attracted to him now? Why wouldn’t I be? He’s objectively very attractive. I don’t want to fall into that path. I don’t want not to be attracted to him because the thought of Harry is still clouding my judgement. Is it true? Am I never going to feel as alive as I did with him? I need to stop thinking these stupid things.

“Can we just stop talking about men?”

“Amen” Jason agrees as he joins us. “Let’s just celebrate that we are still together for the new year and that that is how things are going to be.”

“Amen” Ollie raises her glass and the four of us cling our glasses together for that. “And that we are repeating for the third year Marie’s beach house tradition.”

“Woho!”

“About that though” Marie bites her bottom lip.

“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re cancelling.”

“I’m not.” Marie stops Jason right there and he sighs bringing his hand to his chest. “It’s just… I know for the past three years it’s just been the four of us but I was thinking… Maybe this year… Adam could join?”

The three of us just stand there with our lips parted. We’re being unsupportive, I can tell that much; but it’s just… That weekend is always being just for the four of us. It’s The Golden Girls’ getaway and the thought of having a guy joining just… But it is her house.

“I know it might sound strange to you guys but” Marie leans closer to us so she can whisper the next part “Adam and I haven’t… Had sex yet. I think that weekend at the beach… You know with the fireplace, the marshmallows… It might be romantic and it might just be the time.”

“With all of us there?” I horrify. “I mean, he’s probably just nervous or even shy about it, do you think it’s going to help him to have the three of us around?”

“Wait, what if we postpone our weekend away?” Ollie suggests, pleasing no parties involved.  

“No!” Jason frowns. “Come on, this is the perfect weekend! After that we have practice and we can’t just get pissed for three days straight… Come on, Marie, I need this.”

“No, I don’t want to cancel or postpone it. I want you guys there.” She panics.

“What- like an orgy?” Ollie’s eyes open wide.

“No, you maniac!” Marie blushes. “But… Listen, this is getting to me, alright? It’s been very long since I don’t have sex and… I don’t know what to do and Adam’s got… You know… His things… And I might need urgent emotional support, emergency Golden Girls’ meeting in the kitchen, you know?”

Her puppy eyes always work. I bite my bottom lip and almost hear Jason’s wheels turning on his mind.

“I got it.” Jason says. “You know how it would probably be a little awkward for him to spend an entire weekend with his girlfriend’s crazy friends on his own, right?”

Marie nods with sad puppy eyes as if she also had thought about it but didn’t know what to do about that.

“But” J’s brows raise on his forehead “you know what would make it a lot easier for him?”

She shakes her head. I can’t believe we’re letting JJ be so dramatic. This is what he loves.

“Having his best friends around, just like you, and isn’t it such a good thing that his best friends happen to be Ollie’s guy and Harry?”

“I am not inviting Harry.” I interfere.

Jason’s eyes set on me while he gives me a long, hard, severe stare.

“Are you seriously telling me you’re not willing to put your stupid fight away for your best friend to bone his best friend who is also her boyfriend with erectile disfunction?”

Marie shushes him as the three of them give me all their attention.

“Well, fine, invite him. I won’t be going then.”

“What? No, dude!” Marie pleads. “I really need you there.”

“Oh, come on! I’ll pretend we’re fucking if you will” Jason shrugs “because I mean Mario is fun but he’s probably going to be cuddling Ollie 24/7 so it’d really just be you and me.”

“And Adam and me.” Marie raises her eyebrows.

“You two are gonna be boning.”

“Well maybe we don’t do anything.”

“What do you mean? Of course you will! He’s a guy, I bet he’s dying to bone you.”

“Can you just stop saying bone?” Marie scolds him. “He hasn’t… He hasn’t even touched me. And he hasn’t told me about… The… E.D. problem yet…”

“Wait, so then how do you know?” Ollie frowns.

“Harry told me.”

“What? I can’t believe him! Isn’t he supposed to be his best friend?”

“Hey, calm down! That’s why he told me. He was just worried about him… He’s actually a really good guy.”

I glare at her. I can’t believe after all the shit she’s giving me, she’s backing him now that he broke up with me.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” Ollie asks.

“To whom?”

“To Adam.”

“I don’t want to put Harry on the spot.”

“Since when do you care about Harry? What the fuck is this, Marie? You’ve been giving me shit about him since I met him and now that he finally broke my heart like you said he would he turns into an angel in your eyes?”

“What did you just say?”

My blood freezes on my veins at the sound of his deep voice stopping my every thought. My breath catches on my throat and I feel dizzy. My body works without processing and I somehow face him so I guess it must have turned. His green eyes are staring into mine and his brows are furrowed. Mario is a step ahead of him.

“Were you eavesdropping?” I accuse him.

“We were going to order a drink and I heard you say my name so I stopped. I thought you were talking to me.”

“And when you realize I wasn’t you eavesdropped.”

He stays silent but his eyes don’t leave mine. My friends have gone so now it’s just him and me face to face and I know there are lots of people around for after all this is a new year’s party but it doesn’t feel that way to me now.  

“What did you just say, Indie?”

My jaw clenches. If he thinks I’m about to humiliate myself in front of him and give him validation for his superior attitude he’s wrong. He decided to end things and didn’t even think it was important enough so as to give me notice so I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it is that easy for him to hurt me.

“I said Marie’s been giving me shit about you since the beginning but I guess she was right after all.” I shrug. “You did use me and then-”

“Use you? How?”

My eyes hold his. He can’t be serious.

“You slept with me whenever you wanted-”

“I thought we both wanted it.” He frowns but I can see the horror on his eyes.

“I’m not saying you forced me, Harry. But the thing is you came and went whenever you needed a fuck and lied to me and then when things got a little complicated you just… Left” I shrug again “Like that, so easy, and you didn’t even tell me-”

His fingers wrapping around my forearm cut my words short as he walks towards the end of the hall. I keep frowning but I don’t say a thing. I wouldn’t know what to say. Instead, I let him guide us towards an empty dinner area where I’m guessing people celebrate happy moments for there’s also an empty stage and an empty bar next to it. Every piece of furniture is covered up with big white pieces of cloth and it feels like we’re standing in the middle of a ghost town.

He finally releases my arm and starts pacing back and forth in front of mine. I stare at him in silence for about a minute until I think this is too crazy even for me.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.” He sets his hands on his hips so his suit jacket folds on his shoulders and his elbows and I can’t help my eyes as they travel don his upper body. God, he looks so good.

“I’m scared.”

“You are scared?” I let out a humourless chuckle.

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand?” Now that makes me laugh.

“Indie, I’m serious.”

The staidness of his voice makes me feel young. I swallow my witty remarks and try to hear him. I’ve been feeling like shit and I’ve been blaming him but maybe he’s got something to say too. I lick my lips and stare into his eyes, hoping he’d understand I’m here to listen now. I’m all done with this being mad for no particular reason and feeling like shit about it.

His green eyes burn mine as they look heavily into mine.

“You…” His index finger points at me. “You are so out of my league.”

I frown. What the hell is he talking about?

“This is crazy, you and me, its crazy.”

“I know.” I agree.

“When we talked in the car the other night… After what happened to you… You still listened to me and you fucking comforted me and when I looked at you, you just looked so small and vulnerable and fragile and I… I got scared.” He shrugs. “Because I thought if something were to happen to you, I would… I have been so selfish. I didn’t think how much you’d suffer with a low-life like me but you don’t deserve that, Blue.”

My brows meet and I find myself unarmed as every weapon I had ever held against this man just falls on my feet. I know this might sound like the same old story but I also know, even if he lied to me, that this is Harry speaking his mind out. He’s done that with me before, countless of times, as if he didn’t have a filter and he’s doing it now and it breaks my heart to know this is what’s going on in his mind.

“I don’t want to hurt you, okay? That’s like- the last thing I want but… These last few days I’ve been at Bellamond and I’ve tried so hard not to think about any of this, not to think about you, not to think about how you make me feel but it’s just useless because I always have to come back and you’re everywhere. You’re in my room, you’re in my kitchen, you’re in my shower, you’re just… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I’ve thought in my mind countless of times what I would say to him after our talk in his car but those words are just leaving my mind now like birds leave their nests on the winter. I just stare at him. I feel like I’ve never had a tighter knot on my throat.

“We haven’t talked since that night where I told you everything and I thought you were relieved that whatever it is that we have was over because I wasn’t chasing you around anymore and you didn’t contact me either so I thought… But… You’re hurt, aren’t you?”

I can’t help it, the blushing takes over my face and I purse my lips so they stop shaking. Harry gets blurry. No, please, I don’t want to cry.

“Did you miss me?”

I decide biting my bottom lip might make it stop trembling and I nod my head but I don’t look into his eyes.

“The only reason I left was not to hurt you, Blue.” He confesses in a low voice.

I look up at him until our eyes meet. I search for the lie, for the part of him that’s only saying what he thinks I want to hear but I don’t find it. He’s telling the truth, he doesn’t lie; and yet, it doesn’t feel soothing.

I never thought the reason things were going to end between us was because he cared too much. I’ve been thinking about it for days and all these implausible reasons came running to my mind but not once did I think he was trying to protect me. I’ve doubted myself, I’ve doubted him, I’ve doubted this thing we had going on and I’ve thought he’s only seen me like a doll, like a sexual toy, or like something on his shelf he could pick up whenever he was bored and I feel terrible now. He’s been as kind with me as he is with anyone else.

I still don’t know what to say.

“But now, after hearing you say that” he continues “I feel like I can tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I want to do this.”

My heartbeat speeds up to the point where I think he can hear it. My hands get sticky, I feel sweat gathering on the back of my neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I want this.” He declares. “I want to overthink every little thing and I want to invite you to my sister’s birthday party and I want to” he smirks timidly and even though I don’t know what he’s about to say, the corner of my lips curl up too “rely on those closest to me and share their burdens, as they share mine.”

I full on grin when I hear him recite to me the words I apparently recited to him on my sleep what feels like ages ago and he giggles, surely proud that it worked. I can’t believe we’re doing this but I know I’m going to say yes.

I guess this is the way adult men ask adult women to be their girlfriend.

I shut my eyes and squeeze them tight. When I open them, he’s looking at me as if I was about to tell him something awful.

“It’s just about the weed, I know I’m probably making such a big deal out of it but-”

“I told you I won’t smoke again and I meant it.”

“But it’s not that easy.” I shake my head. “I know that, first-hand, and I can’t go through that again, Harry.”

“I know.” He nods and steps closer to me and for the first time since he grabbed me, his hand gently falls on my elbow and my breath gets stuck on my throat. “But I’m not asking you to like be my tutor or anything, Blue” he smiles “I just want you to be my girlfriend.” He smiles.

I chuckle.

“You’re labelling it now?”

“I just want you to be close.” He rephrases and my heart beats harder.

“How is that going to change anything?”

He frowns and looks at me as if I was insane and I can hear on his mind “it changes everything, baby” but instead he just rests his forehead against mine and I feel his hot, minty breath against my cheeks.

“I told you” he whispers “I don’t want to hurt you. That’s enough for me not to do things that will.”

I sigh and cup his cheeks on my hands, lifting his face so our eyes meet.

“One other thing though” I whisper “don’t speak about yourself like that ever again.”

I can hear him swallowing.

HARRY’S POV

Her big eyes investigate mine and I feel my pulse on my neck very close to where her fingers rest. Fuck, I want to kiss her. How can she disagree with me on anything I just said to her? It’s all true; keeping her with me is probably the most selfish thing I have ever done but I’ve missed her so much and it looks like she missed me too so why should I push her away?

I can’t believe I can hurt her. It doesn’t make sense to me that she cares about me enough so that I can break her heart like she said but just thinking that I did makes me feel like I’m not worth the air that I’m breathing. My eyes drop to her lips again and her pink tongue timidly licks them under my mesmerised stare. She must know what she’s doing.

My eyes shift back to hers and it’s a silence way of asking for permission but her hands close into fists on the lapels of my jacket and she presses her lips against mine. I feel the air coming down my throat and every fibre of my body electrifies. My hands find a home on her hips and I cling onto her when her tongue, fearless and tender, pushes inside my mouth and brings the electricity to mine.

She smells so good… It’s driving me crazy. I press my hands against the back of her thighs and hold her up and her perfect legs wrap around my hips. I walk holding her until I sit her down on the empty stage but she lies on her back and pulls me so my body is hovering over hers.

I feel her pulse against my lips as I kiss down her neck and back up to that place she loves right below her ear. She gasps and sweetly moans and I start to feel the lack of blood on my brain. I grind my hips against hers, slowly but firmly enough so that we both feel the friction, and she moans on my ear as her fingers sink on my hair.

Her words resound on my mind. You did use me and then… I’m not saying you forced me, Harry… You slept with me whenever you wanted…Whenever you needed a fuck…

“What’s wrong?” She whispers.

“It’s just” I smile in a pathetic attempt at covering my guiltiness “it’s the first time I’m gonna… We’re gonna fuck as a proper couple.” She rolls her eyes but smiles and I peck her lips “I don’t think I want to do it on a dusty abandoned stage.”

She smiles.

“Yeah, we probably should get back to the party.”

“Yes, we should.”

I stand up and hold my hand out for her and for once she lets me help her without a feminist remark. I look down at my pants, I think if I move the right way no one would notice. She fixes her hair as if she could look better and then gives me a smile. The air gets stuck on my throat.

“How do I look?”

“Fucking gorgeous.”

She giggles.

“Hey, H.”

I almost give myself whiplash with the speed I tilted my neck to see her. Did she just give me a nickname? That’s how I sign shit too, with an H, and I just like that she has her own special way of calling me.

“Sorry” she blushes “I don’t know where that came from.”

“Don’t be.” I squeeze her waist. “I like it.”

She grins. Fucking hell, she’s gonna make this whole don’t-fuck-her-that-often resolution very difficult.

“I just wanted to apologize for the way I reacted at your sister’s birthday. It was so fucking self-important of me to get mad at you when it was something so… Terrible and difficult for you. It just took me off guard but I want you to know I do not think it was your fault.”

“Don’t apologize for that.”

“No, I do. I do apologize, love. It was not right and I’m sorry.” She holds my gaze. “Do you forgive me?” She smirks.

“Of course, I do.” My voice surprises me as a whisper. “Do you forgive me?”

She just nods. She fascinates me.

When we go back to the party, I try to keep my hands to myself. I don’t want her to ever feel like that again, like she’s just a body that I use to get off; even the thought makes me want to throw up. But it doesn’t matter what I tell her, I’ve tried to explain it to her but I suck at it. I always end up sounding like some sort of sex deprived pervert or some sex addict, so I reckon I’m gonna have to cut the sex part of our relationship a little bit for her to understand it. It’s just… It’s so much more than that.

I don’t know how to put it into words but it’s like I have this need to physically be with her. I guess the fact that I’m aware of how much I suck at the communication department is also adding to the mixture but I feel like there’s only so much I can say, but I can show her what she does to me and I can be close to her, so impossibly close no one else gets to be there.

I’m afraid to tell her because I think it’s not sane and I’m sure she would never approve of that sense of possession I can’t help but to add to it but I just love having her all to myself and I love the way she sounds and the way she touches me and she pulls from my hair because she knows it’s her that’s making me go crazy.

She’s been studying me ever since we came back from our rendezvous. Whenever I glance at her, she’s staring at me and while her attention makes me thrilled, I’m kind of worried she might be having second thoughts. For the love of God, who would have think I would be such a wimp?

I don’t want to mess this up with her.

“Just go dance with her.” Mario laughs.

“I don’t dance.”

“She clearly wants to dance with you.” He raises his eyebrows.

“Well, she knows I don’t dance so...”

“Well, then that’s perfect to make her feel special.” He offers. “You don’t dance; unless…”

He raises his eyebrows like the kombucha girl meme and I finally let my lips curl up. He’s got a point… And she looks incredible in that dress… And I could have my hands on her hips or even kiss her because she’s my girl.

Before I know what I’m doing, my feet start moving towards her. She grins and immediately stands right by my side as if I was the only one dancing with her. She makes me nervous.

“Just know I’ve never done this before.”

“You’ve never danced?” She smiles.

“I’ve never danced with a girl.”

“Well” she shrugs “you can pretend I’m a boy, if you want.”

I look her body up and down. Right, like I could ever pretend that. I chuckle but I know she can tell I’m nervous. She is pretty good at reading my body. She presses a kiss to my cheek and I already feel like being here and being ridiculous is worth it but then she turns her body so that her back is pressed against my chest and she rests my hands on her hips.

“Just relax, baby.”

She smiles at me before she starts pushing her hips against mine and moving them in circles. I feel her moving against me and watch her smile and I know she knows what she’s doing. I’ve heard this song on the radio before and I know she likes it. I think about the light, for the singer says he’s blinded by the lights, and I can only pity him for if he’s blind, he’ll never get to see this.

Swaying her shoulders, Blue caresses the side of neck before she pushes all her hair to one side on her face, leaving the skin on her cheek and her neck completely exposed to me. I’m sure she can hear my troubled breathing.

“Are you enjoying it?” She asks.

“You’re torturing me.” I giggle stupidly.

“Am I?” She presses her bum deeper against me and my grip on her hip tightens, stopping her. “How so?”

“You look like an angel” I whisper on her ear because two can play this game “but you’re the devil in disguise.”

She giggles and that alone does it for me yet then she turns around and rests her hands on my shoulders before she’s kissing me. I feel my heart beating on the back of my throat. When she’s satisfied, having stolen all the air of my lungs, she pulls back but just the inches enough so I can hear her.

“Are you tired?”

No, but if she wants to leave, I’ll be the first to run.

“Do you wanna go?” I ask her instead.

She just nods but her face makes me laugh. She looks so tired yet so beautiful and sexy it’s ridiculous.

“Okay, then let’s go, babe.”

We walk together towards my car and I reach for her hand. It relaxes my pulse somewhat that she doesn’t pull away. I remember she tried to hold my hand once, when we had just shagged a couple times I reckon, and I pulled away. I guess even back then I kind of knew this was not just sex.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” She smiles.

And that’s the last thing she says until we make it to my apartment. When we walk inside and I close the door behind her, I make my way towards the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water. If she hadn’t said what she did about me using her, I would have her against the wall.

I can’t help thinking about the soft skin on her neckline and the sweet vanilla scent she always brings to my nostrils and how intoxicating her whispers can be so I drink more water than I need, thinking that’s going to help holding myself back. From the corner of my eye, I can see her resting her hips on the kitchen island and crossing her arms across her chest.

“What is it?” She whispers.

“What is it?”

“Is it-” She swallows. “Never mind.”

“Is it what?”

I turn around so I can look at her and I don’t like the way she’s covering herself up even when she’s still fully dressed. She’s taken off her coat and that fucking black dress she’s wearing is hugging her figure in all the right places and I can’t help my eyes. But then I hear her take a deep breath and my eyes search hers but she’s not looking at me.

“I put on some weight… It’s just… It’s Christmas.”

My face contorts. I do not know what she’s talking about.

“And that’s something you wanted to tell me because…?”

Only then her hazel eyes look into my own and her self-doubt punches me on the belly.

“I was just considering that maybe… You don’t… Find me as attractive as you used to.”

Her lips set on a line as she stares at me. It feels like she’s apologizing for that, which is beyond fucked up, but the only thing I like about this is that small hint of challenge she’s giving me. I can see Blue fighting Indie, the confident, strong, independent woman in her is telling me I put on some weight and you can go fuck yourself if you have a problem with that; and the teenage girl in her is ashamed that she did. I don’t know which one is winning but I look at her and I see her and I see her lips, full and plump and intense red and perfect and I see her nose, like a hazelnut left under her eyes, and I see her cheekbones and her neck and her chest and it just puzzles me that she could ever think I don’t find her attractive.

“How...?” I can’t find the words. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you feel as attracted to me as you did before?”

“What? Where is this coming from?”

I want to understand her. Maybe someone said something to her, some jealous bitch or something or maybe she’s just putting these ideas on her own mind and that would be a bigger problem.

“Well…” She starts “When we were kissing before, you just pulled away when it started to get, uh, hot, I guess and… You have barely touched me after that… So I’m just wondering… Do you not want to… Touch me like that anymore?”

I shut my eyes, we’ve been over this before and we ended up having sex and she doesn’t seem to get it.

“Do you really think I could ever not be attracted to you?”

Her eyes frantically move between my own as if she was searching for the answer on my pupils.

“It’s crossed my mind.”

“Alright, we need to talk about this.”

She’s horrified and she hasn’t even heard what I’ve got to say. I hope I don’t sound like a creep to her and I hope I can manage to explain this.

“I am trying to hold back pretty hard because you make it very difficult for me but… Uh… After what you said about… How you felt… Used and… That I just came to you when I needed a fuck that’s just not true. I mean obviously you turn me on and you like wake this thing inside me like I just can’t enough of you but that’s not all you are to me. In fact, that’s like the small part. I mean… Sex with you is amazing but… I think it feels so good because it’s not just sex. Am I making any sense?”

She nods her head and smiles.

“I think you are.”

“I… Do you remember when you told me you weren’t okay with me sleeping with other people because it made you feel like just another notch on my belt?” She nods but her expression has changed from happy to embarrassed. “Well, I wasn’t even sleeping with other people. I just…” I shake my head- I messed up from the beginning, didn’t I? “I thought that was what you wanted and I thought if you knew I was only seeing you I’d scare you away because you had said so many time before that you didn’t want a relationship and that it was just sex but it’s not.” I chuckle. “And I get why you don’t get it. I mean I’ve been worried myself that I had become obsessed with sex, you know?”

“Well, are you?” She frowns.

“No,” I chuckle “it’s not about sex, Blue. It’s… You.” I shrug. There, I said it. “If anything, that’s what I’m obsessed with.” I laugh. “I just didn’t know how to tell you, I guess, and the way I knew how was that. I guess what I’m trying to say is- I am…” I take a deep breath, what am I going to say? “Crazy about you and… it’s not just sex, I…” like, love “care about you” I nod, good choice “a lot.”  

She bites her bottom lip but the corner of her lips curl upwards into a smile. She’s nervous and so am I. I don’t know how to do this.

“I care about you too.” She confesses and I feel a weight being lifted off my chest that escapes like chuckles through my nostrils. “And I’m sorry I threw this whole thing at you. It’s just… I had a bad year in high school and I know that’s like so long ago and I’m an adult now and a lot of things have happened after that but I guess it just… Deep down I still have an issue with that.” Her voice croaks and she tilts her neck as if that was going to keep her tears at bay. It does. “It’s not you, I mean it’s not on anything you do, it’s just me. I need to get over that.”

“Okay.” I smile at her.

I feel lucky she shared that with me and I can tell a lot of things have changed tonight. We are actually talking and I feel like she just opened a little window for me to peek at the inside wonders of Indigo Blue Anderson.

“And just to be clear” I add “You look breath-taking and your body is amazing and you should never even consider that I don’t find you attractive. I think about you naked all the time.”

She laughs and her eyes beg for my closeness. I hold my hand in the air for her to take and she does but still doesn’t move.

“Now, come here.”

I lean in closer so I can grab her elbow instead of her hand and pull her towards me faster. I am still grinning when she finally presses her lips against mine. Her kiss is soft but needy and my pulse accelerates as I feel my blood rushing in a frenzy. I squeeze her hips and her tongue pushes inside my mouth making me swallow my own breath as her fingers sink into my hair and she pulls from it.

“I know it’s not just sex” she whispers against my lips “but I want to fuck you.”

Her initiative stirs something inside me and all my blood rushes to my dick. I’ve desired this woman since the last time I was inside her and now I know she feels the same way.

“You know I care about you too?” I ask her.

“Yes.” She licks my lips and drives me crazy. “But now I want you to shut up and give me the attention that I want after you ignored me for days.”

“The attention that you want?”

I think my delightfulness can be heard on my tone. Ignore her for day… She has no idea how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about her, imagining her on top of me, imagining how her sweet voice would sound on my ear if she told me she loves me.

“Yes.” She bites my bottom lip.

“And what is it that you want, love?”

She pulls away so she can look into my eyes and rests her hands on my chest.

“I want you to make me forget about anything that’s not you and for you to touch me and to kiss me without holding back.”

Her words make my blood boil but somehow they bring a strange calm to the rest of the room, like they lifted a weight on my shoulders. My hands are still resting on her hips and my lips are parted. I don’t know what to say to her, she’s mesmerising. She leans in then until her lips brush against my ear and my eyes closed. She whispers.

“I want to feel your hands all over my body and to have you gasping for air on my ear and then I want to feel your fingers inside me until I’m about to cum and then” my hands move down to her ass and she sighs on my ear “I want you to get inside me and fuck me until I can’t see.”

She pulls apart so she can look into my eyes I guess but I can take mine away from her parted lips and the outline of her breasts under her dress. When I manage to look up at her though, my usually timid girl has wild eyes as she looks at me. She pushes my chest slightly so as to get a reaction from me and I feel the luckiest bastard on Earth.

“So what? Are you going to do it?”

She presses kisses down my cheek and the side of my neck and I thank God I untied my bowtie a while ago so she has access to the line that joins my neck and my shoulder with her sweet tongue.

I can’t take it anymore. My fingers sink on her skin as I push her towards the bedroom and I feel her smiling against my skin. Holding her hips, I turn her body around and undo the little button that’s holding her dress around her neck and watch it fall until it’s just a dark bundle on her ankles. She’s not wearing a bra but I already knew that. I circle her and sit down on my mattress with her between my legs and just look up. She’s wearing nothing but a red wine colour velvet thong and my hands caress her belly and the top of her thighs when she rests her hands on my shoulders.

“I’ve been torturing myself with this memory of how you look in just your knickers for a week...” I drink in every detail I’ve missed so much, the curve of her hips, the flesh under the strap of her thong, her navel… “You’re so fucking gorgeous, my love.”

She grins at me and pushes on my shoulder enough so there’s room for her to straddle me and her perfect, soft breasts are inches away from me. I grab her ass and squeeze it on my hand and she moans sweetly. Holy shit, I can’t remember being this turned on with anyone else.

I wrap my lips around one of her dark nipples and my other hand squeezes her other breast and her nails sink on my shoulders as she gasps and moans. I torture her just like she did before with that porn scene in the kitchen and I run my tongue around her nipple and my fingers down the cups of her perfect breasts that fill my hand when I squeeze them. She’s so beautiful, fuck.

She unbuttons my shirt and pushes the fabric down my arms until I’m shirtless. I’d pay to know what’s going through her mind but she seems to read mine because with a pull from her thong, she lifts one knee at a time on the air so I can put it down her legs. Once she’s fully naked, I slide my hand between her thighs and grace my fingers with her wetness. I grunt myself when I notice how soaked she is and I need to taste her so I slip down her body and lie on my back, pulling from the back of her full thighs until her wet slit is on my mouth.

“Oh God!” She only speaks when my tongue darts down her wet folds.

I close my lips around her clit and suck it inside my mouth and hear her gasping over me. She’s so warm and salty and I’ve missed this like crazy. Our eyes meet and the way she’s looking down at me with big eyes and pupils blown away has me grinning.

“Did you touch yourself these days?”

She shuts her mouth but gives me a look as if considering whether to tell me. Her skin over her cheeks and down her neck has tinged pink. I smile. She did and just the image of her lying on her bed with her tanned legs spread opened and her hand on her clit… I press one single finger on her entrance and slip it in just an inch and she groans.

“Don’t play with me.”

“Answer me, baby.”

“Yes, I did.”

I reward her with my tongue licking away where she likes it and she gasps and pulls from my hair.

“Did you think about this?” I whisper in between licks. “Did you imagine it was me?”

“Yes.” She moans. “I thought of you, just you in general.”

It takes me by surprise that she elaborates that much so I grab her cheeks and pull her closer to my mouth as I devour her turning her into a moaning mess over me.

“I thought of your hands” she grants me more “and your voice and the way you smell and how warm you always are…”

Her confession excites me and I want to pleasure her more than I’ve ever wanted to before. I know I could have her cumming in my mouth in a few minutes but that’s not what I want right now. I want to kiss her and I want her to kiss me so I slip down between her legs and take off my pants and boxers in the second it takes her to turn around with a confused face.

She looks so soft and velvety and so fucking sexy… I place my hands on her hips and her belly and turn her around so her back hits the mattress and then I lie on top of her, claiming her mouth in a hungry kiss that she reciprocates. Her hands go down my bare chest.

“I love your body.”

I smile. Her complimenting me is rare but I love it. She’s told me she thinks I’m handsome but she’s never complimented my body before. She licks her reddish lip from all the kissing and I grind my hips against her so she can feel how hard I am for her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and I cup her cheek on one hand so her face stays still and I can see her. With the other hand, I grab my dick and align it with her sex before I slowly roll inside her.

“Oh.” She moans as I grind my hips pushing deeper until she’s taken me completely.  

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I love having her without a condom. I didn’t think it was going to be that different, but I can feel her wet and warm and slippery around me and it drives me crazy. I move slowly in and out of her and lift my weight on my elbows against the mattress so I can see her face better as I enter her and her hands move to the lower part of my back where she sinks her nails. Like that she pulls me in closer and tries to get me deeper inside her and the sweat graces my spine like transparent pearls.

I feel our connection like a rush of electricity that runs from the spot where I end and she begins all the way up to my heart and throat and mind. She consumes me and I’m not sure where that separation, that spot where I end, is any longer. We’re one right now and I can’t think of a better feeling.

We move in perfect sync and her hips sink down and drift apart at the rhythm of my thrusts. Her walls clench around me and she moans. I see round droplets of sweat covering her chest and her hairline and she just looks so good and so mine.

“You look so sexy, Blue.” I whisper.

With her eyes still closed, she grins taking my compliment and I have to control myself, to hold the words that are burning my throat. Two confessions in one night are already one too many… So instead I just contemplate the woman underneath me and my hand rests on her neck as I move in and out of her and she bites her lip. When her eyes open, she smiles at me and our eyes lock for the longest time.

“I’ve really missed you.” She whispers and a hint of embarrassment flashes on her eyes when she realizes she’s said it out loud.

“I’ve missed you too.” I reciprocate and she brings my face down for a kiss.

Her lips move down my chin to my neck and her tongue slowly presses against my skin. I growl and sink harder inside her making her gasp.

“Wait” I grab her chin with my fingers and bring her face to mine.

“What? What’s wrong?” Confusion floods her beautiful eyes.

“Nothing, I just want to kiss you.”

I feel her smiling against my lips as I kiss her and move my hips sinking inside her and drifting away slowly but firmly. Everything else disappears; it’s just her and me and that’s enough for me.

I pull from her waist and almost lift her from the mattress so that our bodies are as close as humanly possible. I pull away so that I can look at her again and she gives me a smile that melts me. I look down at her body as my hand goes all over her skin, first her breast and then her belly until I find that bundle of nerves that’s throbbing for me and press circles with my fingers against it.

“Tell me how you feel.” I grunt.

I almost can’t stand the pleasure running down my spine and pressing on the end of my dick threatening to paint her walls white but I want to hold it still, I want this to last and for us to have this moment for a little longer.

“It feels so good, H…” She moans my new nickname and I grunt, pushing harder inside her. “You feel amazing… I feel…” I watch her as I speed up the rhythm, she’s struggling with the words and her voice is so raspy and wet and heavy and I won’t last much longer. “Oh, God.”

Her hand curls against the sheets and she sinks her nails on the mattress as I pierced her against it and move faster and faster in and out of her.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m gonna cum.”

I feel her body tensing underneath mine and her nipples peak against my skin as her walls contort and milk me and I grunt and cum inside her before I breathlessly collapse next to her. We both catch our breaths and I watch her sweaty chest moving up and down until the movements are calmed and then I wrap my arm around her and pull her body closer to mine.

[lowkeyed1]

really having some weird thinks today... it all started when i had a dream about an old ex with whom i left on bad terms and haven’t spoken with in years... but in the dream we were friendly and comfortable with each other. a lot of times in my life i’ve felt an impetus to reach out to people where the relationship or friendship kind just fell apart and things got bad, to try and reconnect and resolve things. but this felt almost more like... the trauma of my memories trying to be reach a resolution, with me. i’ve been getting treatment for post-traumatic stress now for a while... i sought it out based on the feeling that i had that from an abusive relationship i left, but it seems like it runs deeper than that, that i’ve spent a lifetime being traumatized, running away from things, and then compartmentalizing everything that happened and trying to start over. it worked well enough for me to be mostly functional for a long time but i finally got to this point in my life feeling adrift, disconnected from myself and not really understanding how i got where i am or where i might end up going because everything felt so removed and shrouded. i’ve been able to confront those bad memories some now, and i feel like i’m slowly reintegrating my past selves with my self now, and putting together a big, elaborate puzzle that is slowly making more and more sense, the more i see of it. and slowly those old pains are finding a comfortable resting place in my psyche. i can look at them and know how bad they hurt but still fold them into my perception again. and i can lowkey stalk those lost people on social media and see how different they are now, how their life changed, how they changed... and i feel those traumatic memories falling backwards, back into their proper time and place, and not immediately up in my face, still hurting, still trying to fix themselves.

[whentherewerebicycles]

good morning i already did my daily processing post but i also wanted to do some reflective writing and set some GOALS for this week.

what was hard / frustrating / challenging about last week?

general moving stress

general new job stress, especially info-whelm stress (too much info at once, presented in a disorganized/confusing way, without much guidance about how to engage with it effectively or make sense of it)

feeling disconnected from new colleagues and unsure about how to forge relationships at work (and just worried in general about whether remote work will meet my human contact needs) 

feeling a lot of uncertainty and anxiety about lack of structure and direction/oversight

feeling a general sense of dread/existential panic about whether this job will push me in any way or whether i’ll get stuck in a rut here doing work that is a lot less interesting to me than the previous rut i was stuck in

some of these will maybe resolve themselves in time! for instance moving will be over soon-ish and i will also eventually begin working on projects that will hopefully help me organize some of the new information and get a clearer sense of purpose. HOWEVER, i can also bolster my sense of agency/autonomy by taking action and building structures for myself to help anchor me in a period where i feel very adrift! i have decided that in the first six weeks of the job, i want to begin each week by setting 3-5 specific goals for myself on monday. these might be semi-related to actual work projects or responsibilities, but i really want them to feel more like big picture meta-level goals that are focused on making this job feel healthy, meaningful, and manageable for me, and that are also pushing me to develop specific skills i want to learn or improve at. i will set the goals each monday morning and then set aside time on fridays to assess whether i made progress towards those goals or not. if i did, then i will choose to consider the week a Success, even if there were other things i feel frustrated or unfulfilled or whatever about.

here are my goals for this week:

(1) I want to practice clearly communicating my needs and/or areas of confusion to my team lead instead of wallowing in what might be easily resolved stress. This week, I want to specifically bring at least ONE meta question to each of our daily tag-up meetings, and if the initial answer she gives is unclear, I want to keep asking questions or reframing the question until I get the answer I need. I might even practice sending her the question in the morning when we check in briefly on teams at the start of the day, in case giving her time to think about it gets me a better answer. Today’s question: I have been given hundreds of pages of dense information about agency structures, processes, etc. to read independently as part of my onboarding, but I do not have a clear sense of what I am reading this information for or how I will use it or how deeply I need to learn it (as opposed to a more surface-level “familiarizing myself with the content” kind of read). So my meta question for today is: Can we come up with some specific strategies for working through these materials in a way that is efficient and will set me up for project success? What I am really trying to understand here is the hierarchy of importance (which things I need to know urgently and/or need to know very deeply in order to complete project tasks... vs. the things that I should be loosely familiar with but can consult as resources if I’m working on a project that specifically involves training people in those processes.)

(2) I want to continue taking detailed notes on points of confusion & feelings I am experiencing throughout the onboarding and orientation process. Keeping a careful record of how info was introduced to me, how I tried to navigate it or make sense of it, and what feelings that experience stirred up in me will help me eventually propose a redesign of our onboarding process that better supports people in their first weeks.

(3) One of the confusing things about this job is that there are four million different offices and subdivisions within the larger agency i work for and the specific office I work within, and each has its own responsibilities and processes and chains of command. I’ve read a bunch of scattered information over the last week but am still really confused about what we actually do and where we fit into the larger organizational structure. Not having a clear organizational schema in my mind is also making it much harder for me to make sense of these dense onboarding materials, because I don’t have a framework to fit all of these disconnected pieces of information into. So, at some point this week, I want to sit down and use a big piece of paper to create a detailed, annotated organizational map by hand. Creating this map will help me practice recalling/reviewing all this new information, and it’ll also give me a physical resource I can tape up by my desk so that my eyes are passing over it multiple times a day (which I think will help me learn it more quickly).

(4) I want to make a point to make at least one personal connection with my team lead (or other people I meet with) this week. That might be asking them a question about their lives or sharing a small piece of information when we’re small talking at the beginning of the meeting or saying something funny or just, like, trying to convey that I am a human with a personality, and trying to get from the other person some sense of them as a human with a personality. Everyone seems to favor very terse, impersonal email exchanges here but I think meetings might be a chance to do a tiny bit of HELLO I AM A PERSON work with other people. (I also feel like studying the culture of communication in this organization could be a fascinating longer-term project... both interesting in its own sake and potentially a place where L&D could intervene to build a more collegial culture? But I don’t have enough info yet and haven’t met enough people to know if my initial impression of the place is correct or not.)

those are my goals! now back to reading one million insanely dense pages about federal budgeting!

[flying-elliska]

Elu feelings

I cope by writing meta, so expect a lot of it this weekend. I think I’m going to be processing s3 for a long time tbh.  I feel like all ships have a few core emotions they run on, you know ? 

The first one I can think for Eliott and Lucas is relief. Like look at them after their first kiss, hugging and laughing. It’s like this big stormcloud of tension that has just broken into rain over their heads and is now watering their crops. Relief because they’ve both been lonely for a long time and they just found each other and it’s downright miraculous.

 It’s that corniest of corny tropes, love at first sight, except for them it really works, because they show us time and time again how perfectly they fit together. They both want something committed and deep, they’ve got artistic sensibilities, they’ve been hurt a lot by life but still want to believe, they’re both so passionate. Eliott’s romantic playfulness manages to reach beyond Lucas’ walls, Lucas’ fierce devotion is able to reach through Eliott’s pessimism and self-hate. They can be themselves together after a lifetime of hiding. Eliott gives Lucas signs that it’s okay to be goofy, and Lucas shows appreciation for it. During the piano scene, Eliott looks at Lucas like water in the desert. And Lucas just blossoms as soon as he doesn’t have to bother with shallow, bullshit pretend relationships anymore. I don’t like the ‘we complete each other trope’ usually, but those two, they really do. They went on their own journey but it’s really like something wasn’t right with the universe until they got together. And look at how relieved they are to see each other again after being pulled apart. The minute by minute becomes that too in the end, as does the parallel universe metaphor - there could be so many ways and so much time for them to be apart, and they’re going to make damn sure they never have to be apart again. It’s fragile and it’s beautiful and it’s the most right thing ever. They just fit. 

The second one is...probably yearning, working along with the first one. They’re both just so needy. Eliott is in general ‘a lover of all things’ (like Maxence said) - and as shown through the Polaris video, he desperately wants a true soul connection, something that goes beyond appearances, beyond fears. He puts that film out in the world like a message in a bottle. He doesn’t get funding, but it does reach the one person it needed to. The story could be hella sappy and it would fit the whole artsy teenager with too many feelings thing, but it’s just so earnest. He’s terrified of ‘the dark’ (ie his issues with mental illness) and what it would do to people around him, and yet he’s still willing to take his deepest, most desperate desire and put it into the palm of the world. There’s something so brave about that. And Lucas ?  He starts out as disconnected and adrift, pretends to be tough and a player but scratch the surface even once and wow. The way he clings to his mask speaks of his fear of being left alone. And the way he just opens up to Eliott so fast - he’s been looking for that forever, really. Someone to really see him, and see that need. The way things went in his family probably hurt him so deeply because under his grumpy façade, Lucas strikes me as someone incredibly loyal and caring, and what his father did probably shook a lot of his core beliefs. Because of this and his internalized homophobia, he took on a ‘feelings make you weak’ demeanour. So it’s so important that him and Eliott made it through - it allows him to believe in love again, that he is worthy of being loved, it’s some deeply existential shit. (even though the part with his friends was also crucial.) And it’s why it never seems rushed that they move so quickly. It’s really like a spark comes and starts a wildfire in a few moments because everything was ready for it already. I would buy them moving in together, for real. Obviously they might have issues down the road because of this. Lucas’ abandonment issues and Eliott’s troubled self-image and issues linked to bipolar are not going to just vanish overnight. They just care and want this so much they might rush into things. But you really believe they’re going to pull through and spend the rest of their lives together, anyway. 

I’m also thinking of faith. That’s the whole point of the Remember montage. The beginning of their relationship is really messy. Eliott cheats on his gf and bails on him and sends him all sorts of mixed signals, Lucas says some really ignorant things about mental illness and pretends to be into girls and uses Chloé and says mean things about him to his friends. Lucas is forcibly outed, then there’s the whole houseboat which might have been very traumatic for the both of them - someone else in their shoes might have said, this is too much for me, and they might not have been entirely unjustified. I feel one important aspect of this pairing is that you’re never entirely sure they’re going to end up together. Sure, they’re perfect for each other, but their issues interact in ways that mean they’re uniquely suited to hurt each other as well. When you look at Lucas’ past, Eliott on paper really isn’t an ideal partner. Lucas too can be sharp and mean and reckless, or he can go overboard when he cares about something. They’re both very aware as it develops that this could end up being dangerous for them, that they could wreck each other. This version of the story just has so much more tension and uncertainty than the other remakes, for some reason - maybe because Lucas is more isolated, or Eliott is less cool on the surface than Even, or maybe it’s down to technical choices too. The amount of feelings between is overwhelming right from the start, it’s like, it could easily become too much. And then there’s the whole stigma from society thing. And of course, love, between anyone, remains one of the most terrifying things in life, because of the trust and openness and vulnerability it demands. So faith is important, because it implies making a bet that things will turn out alright in the end. It’s about compassion and moving on from the past but also learning from it. And choosing to put the positive possibilities above the negatives. They choose to have faith in themselves, too, when they choose the relationship. That they’re going to figure it out, be better at communicating. The church montage makes a lot of parallels between religious faith and love, as being a refuge in times of sorrow, something true and sure when everything is uncertain.  It should be the meaning of ‘christ-like’ love. And this is not about Lucas being some sort of savior figure for Eliott in spite of his ‘flaw’ - it’s for himself too, that compassion and that faith. That he can be better than his father. That he recognizes the faith Eliott put in him by telling him about Polaris - now he probably understand fully what it means, that Eliott was telling him he was stuck in that darkness too, that he gave Lucas this key because he had faith in Lucas’ capacity to love. It’s about people’s faith deserving to be rewarded in kind.  It’s so beautiful, I want to cry.

And last but not least - tenderness. If I had to pick only one, it would be this one. And it’s not (only) about them being so cuddly and prone to PDA as soon as they get together, it’s a much deeper thing. It’s like they look at each other and go ‘hello, your soul is beautiful and belongs with mine, let me make some room for you’. It’s in the way they approach each other - Lucas makes the first move, then Eliott shows his interest in a way that is ‘chelou’ enough to signal something more is going on - repeats his name only for him - but never pushy. It’s the entirety of the piano scene, and the way they keep unveiling little bits of who they truly are to each other - Eliott’s wacky music and moves are incredibly important for that, and so is Lucas’ playing - it’s them creating a space for each other saying, look you’re safe with me, I am weird and intense and passionate and artistic and I know you are too. It’s that conversation as they walk home, the carefully worded sentences where they’re pushing each other towards the conclusion of ‘not necessarily a girl’. And it’s of course the first kiss - Eliott pushing at Lucas enough to show him how much he cares and get past his walls, but letting him do the first move. And Lucas letting Eliott know he has seen Polaris. And obviously the entirety of Samedi 9 : 17. Lucas knowing what to say to reach Eliott, his emotional intelligence. Eliott’s little drawings, and his romantic gestures that show Lucas he deserves a grand love story. Lucas taking care of Eliott after his episode, the croissants and the flowers and the meals. The playfulness, the care, the attention. They want to help each other be as free and happy as they could be, they care so much about each other’s developpment ? The way they’re constantly checking in with each other - minute by minute, and the reciprocity of the bus stop scene - Eliott knowing how to use it to soothe Lucas’ fears as well, showing the truth of the concept that they both will have difficult moments. They’ve bruised each other’s hearts, it’s heavy, but they also handle it as a privilege - it’s so much better than not being in each other’s lives. When they’re together, it has the carefree vibe of young first love, joyful and clumsy and rowdy ; but you catch glimpses of them as old souls, too, with a maturity and selflessness and depth of love that is just awe inspiring. It’s love as sanctuary and refuge, and love that opens the doors to the world. 

I’m never going to be over it tbh. 

[batik96]

I know a lot of people are no longer around on Tumblr, so I'm trying to get used to Twitter. Or DreamWidth. Or PillowFort. (Even as I muddle along on Tumblr x 2.) So far, it's just leaving me feeling disconnected. Though I'm very much feeling that way in real life, too.

I'm the kind of person who sees a blog hasn't been updated in 3 years but I don't unfollow because I considered that person a friend once upon a time and still do to some degree and would like to be there if they decide to come back around, so they don't find dust bunnies in an empty house where they had hoped they might find a welcome.

Right now, though, I feel as if I'm the one finding the dust bunnies. I tell myself to sweep, but then it would just be an empty house and I don't know what to fill it with.

Am I the only one still feeling adrift in the wake of the Tumblr (un)natural disaster? 

[firefrightfic]

I always forget you are a comic book reader and not just one of my favorite authors. I unfortunately cannot buy comics at this time so my knowledge is limited to what is shared in tumblr blogs. But what are your feelings and opinions of what DC is doing with Dick Grayson right now? It seems the whole amnesia plot makes sense and maybe has a consistent beginning and end, it just this plot is played out with the bat family. Also has it been revealed who ordered the hit on Nightwing?

I am actually cautiously optimistic about it, which is not how I expected to feel knowing the story arc was coming. While it’s rough that this plot for Dick is happening at the same time as almost every other member of the Batfam is going through their troubles, the story so far has been well done, and from what I know/have been told is a mostly accurately display of how people react in the face of a traumatic brain injury. e.g The way Dick talks about losing time and memories, potential mood swings, and his disconnect from everything he’s been told he had before.

Dick himself describes it well by saying that he feels like he’s dumbass teenager trying to figure out who he is again, which – by the amount of years he’s lost thanks to his injury – he totally is. And in reaction to that, he’s responded by trying to seize control of his new life in a way that everyone on the outside can see as likely bad for him in the long run, but is not so far-fetched for someone feeling so totally adrift from the person everyone else is telling him he should be. He’s simultaneously lashing out and exploring himself all at the same time; it’s actually kind of fascinating, provided that the writers are able to keep the storyline balanced and not take Dick’s edgy teenage acting-out any further than they already have before they start to guide him back on the path back to being Dick Grayson.

Which, by the way, I am completely certain will happen. Hopefully with some long-lasting epiphany or change in Dick’s life once he does reclaim his memories/old life because otherwise what is the point in doing it in the first place.

The art being absolutely beautiful certainly doesn’t hurt things either, even if I do miss Dick’s lovely luscious hair. Also, I wish we could have seen some of Dick’s recovery period in the storyline instead of just jumping from him getting shot to this point, but there could always be flashbacks to that effect yet to come.

(In terms of who put out the hit, it was an act of vengeance by KGBeast against Batman for causing him to lose his arm previously. He went after Nightwing purely to hurt Bruce and nothing more.)

[zoewkv]

My Story in God’s Story

I was invited to give my Monologue this morning at a a church that is celebrating affirming month.  It was a privilege and honour.

I entitled my monologue – My Story in God’s Story. One of the key elements to humanity is how we understand and relate to God. For many, including me, this is our first and primary identity. Everything about us orbits around and finds its grounding in that. Therefore, one of the most devastating experiences of coming out to live freely in your identify or orientation, is being told, either by your own old tapes, or relationships around you, that God no longer sees you. He has, in fact, chosen to take his divine eraser and remove you from His story. This is often a pain too deep and people find the choice they are being asked to make unimaginable. The results are very often loosing family, church membership and even believing God is no longer reachable. The fallout can be untenable and the life results leaving people adrift and even choosing to end the pain.

So let me put my experience in context for you.

My life adventure has been much the same as everyone else’s - peeling back the layers until the nuggets of gold are revealed (at least I hope there’s gold there) – a lifetime of experiences aiding the process. There is nothing spectacular about how I arrived here. I’m really a pretty average expression of a 64-year old woman who lived a mostly single life. I married and live a pretty average life with my partner. I have family and friends. I have travelled. I have some education. I have a varied resume. I go to church on Sundays. I visit my family on special occasions. I get my flu shot and I still get the flu sometimes. My journey, at its core, is the journey of all of us – just doing our best to find our way, do no harm in the process, honour our God and faith, be kind, and live with as much integrity, authenticity, gratitude and generosity as possible. It’s a ‘normal’ journey. It brought me here today to be with you.

I was raised spiritually, culturally, traditionally and historically in the Christian faith. My life has always included a relationship with God, being part of the family of God in churches, and living my life in a way I believed would honour God and my faith. Until I was about 40, I had no idea what it was about me or my life that left me feeling lonely, disconnected and different. I often prayed for understanding. I moved to Calgary in my early 40s and that was when the pieces of my true identity started to reveal themselves. My journey over the next 10-15 years was a wide arc of discovery that eventually led me to understand that I am LGBTQ. During those years one of the pieces of discovery was a spiritual journey – wondering if I stepped into my truth, would it mean God would be displeased with me; even forget my name and withdraw His love. Would I encounter a black hole where God has erased my life chapter from His book? What I found was that I could indeed be both a Christian and LGBTQ, and that God’s love for me was very real and profound and all encompassing. He accepts and loves me just the way I am.

If you were to look deep into the core of my being – body, soul, mind and spirit during all those pre-coming out years, you would find a woman deeply in love with her God and with the life of following God. You would see a soul, believing in kindness. You would see someone who willingly and with enthusiasm shared her faith with the world around her. You would see someone passionate about caring for family, friends and those in need. You would see someone living the roll of teacher and mentor, very involved in church and church related activities.

Flash forward to about 10 years ago when I ‘came out’. Everything I’ve just mentioned became suspect. The world of faith, worship, and relationship that I’d known often disappeared under waves of suspicion and misunderstanding. My spiritual life as I had known it was literally swamped. I continue to be on a journey of finding my footing in this place, where I know I am still the same; but the label given me, changes the perspective of so many around me. It’s often uncomfortable, awkward, unsafe, and painful.

I know God deeper and more profoundly than ever before. And I have often become a stranger amongst His people. It often feels or has been plainly expressed that God feels about me the same way they do – outside of the circle, other or of the ‘them’ category; My story has been erased from God’s beautiful love story.

So what is my strength in this new normal?

First and most importantly, I would say, understanding that God sees, knows and understands me to the very molecular depth of who I am; and that knowing all of that He is exceedingly fond of me, bends His Godliness to be in relationship with me, dances over me with love, parks His tent over me to be in community with me, I am at the same time – insignificant and without limit. I know that God made me wonderfully and is very happy with the way I turned out. Not to say that I have arrived. I am still being stretched by the unfathomable grace of God. But finding at the same time a safe harbor and a loving creative launch pad in God helps me weather the storms of encountering people on their own unique journey. Grace given, causes grace to grow, hopefully in me.

Then, of course, there are the amazing relationships in my life that mirror God’s acceptance and love.  They include finding a wonderful partner, dear friends, advocates, some family, some churches, like Wild Rose, and my own church. When I can be still and know that God’s affection for me in intact, then look out and experience the love, acceptance and celebration of those around me, I am strong.

And finally, what gives me hope? And this is the future. This is where I want to invest my life and energies – in hope.

Well of course love is hope. Generosity is hope. I subscribe to a life philosophy called Generous Space. The core values are:

·        Humility – Asking, “might I be wrong”

·        Hospitality – Asking, “whose voices are missing

·        Mutuality – Asking, “is everyone in our community empowered to make a difference

·        Justice – Asking, “how can I participate with you in dismantling the barriers preventing flourishing

https://www.generousspace.ca/

Applied as we journey together, this concept and philosophy makes room for all at the table, and brings hope for kind compassionate change.  

I’d like to leave you with a quote from Sarah Bessey’s book, ‘Out of Sorts’:

http://sarahbessey.com/writing/books/

 “May we be the ones who don’t give up on radical inclusion. May we remember to whisper to one another, every now and then, on purpose, at the right time: You belong here. There’s room for you. There’s room for all of us. We are part of the temple in which God is quite at home. ..

 May we be the ones who hold the doors open for others, who hold hands, who hold faces, who hold secrets for one another, who hold space for the pain and the brilliance, who hold the light and the salt, the complexity and the simplicity, the silence and the storm. the ones who hold our opinions loosely and yet love ferociously.”

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[dragonfireflydreamer]

My brother who died

He was a good person who had a hard time. He wore a smile like a badge of honour. He played guitar everyday and chased away people's fears with the joy of his song. He was a philosophical man with the depth of thought and variety of an interstellar traveller. He never judged people by their mistakes and always saw the best in people that deserved it. He was a partner in crime, a strong willed man, an addict, a lover, a friend, a madman, a genius, a son and a brother. He was all these things and more and he never restricted me, never told me so settle down or stop causing a scene. He knew how I felt like few others in this universe do and to lose him is a devastating blow. To know he will never be there to see my wedding, my children grow up or to share any new memories fills me with the greatest sadness I have ever felt. I cannot see my own future because he was always in it standing shoulder to shoulder ready to jam through it together. I do not know who I am without the memories of me that he held. I feel disconnected and set adrift like my anchor, someone I could be truly honest with, has been dropped of the side without a rope. I still don't feel like it's real. The funeral didn't make it any more real. It made me miss him more because he wasn't there. I don't know how to make this better. I wish I could fix it or understand it so that it didn't hurt so incredibly much. I can't let this destroy or destract me. I need to finish my degree, get my mental health in check and have that family because I know he always supported me and would want what's best for me. I haven't been self destructive. I haven't self harmed. None of that would help. The feeling would still be there when I came back and stronger because i would have been numb to it. I have to feel this, fuck it I want to. I don't want the loss of my brother to cause me to twist in on myself. The only way anything good comes out of this is if it inspires and motivates me to flourish. To be the best me I can. To be kind, loving and honest. To spread the love of music and dancing. To look at fear in the face with teeth bared. To treat every moment with consideration and care because of their precious singular nature. Hold the light and shine for others too. Love life because in the end no one ever feels like they got enough of it unless they squeezed every drop out of the rollercoaster. Much love Joe XxX