#to encourage them to succeed because sometimes i forget i'm a manager or that i have to do anything regarding interacting with my cashiers

[giftedpoison]

I'm an assistant manager which is like crazy to me sometimes because i often still feel like a kid.

HOWEVER

I had a 16 year old cashier today, who I only just met today and she has only worked one other shift. And the register really makes her anxious because first job jitters and stress (and lets be honest our register systems are so old and not user friendly so fair).

And I was talking to her at the end of the night as I was counting money. And I asked how she felt (cause I kinda left her alone quite a bit, but we weren't that busy). And she told me she learned she was really bad with money and she still felt pretty shakey.

And I started with "you can't be that bad with money because your drawer is perfect, not under nor over"

And I could have left there but then I went "This is your first job right?" and she said yes. And I said "ya know when I first started working I used to bawl my eyes out before every shift. it gets better."

BUT I also like fumbled the delivery a little bit, so either she thinks I gave her an encouraging little anecdote about how the fear goes away eventually OR she thinks she got a really weird anecdote from her assistant manager she just met.

[feverdreamjohnny]

My Melting World

Hey there. This is going to be a bit of a personal post. I'm going to talk about a game I made in 2020 that I kept returning to well after I should've left it alone.

Demon's Island was... Well, it wasn't a game, I guess. Probably something closer to a virtual post card, maybe even a hangout zone by proxy. Regardless, Demon's Island was an effort to collapse a lot of my feelings and memories down into a single bite-sized sandwich. That's probably why the game feels distinctly childish and silly; it's as earnest as I was capable of at that time, purely translating how I felt in the form of messy, unfiltered in-jokes and spaces built for people that no longer exist.

I think that last part is probably one of the more haunting prospects whenever I revisit the game. 2020 was a different time. There are rooms and textures left over from people who've since faded away, and revisiting it in recent times feels like walking into the bedroom of a deceased relative. It's just a room, but the little imprints of them are still left there. It's a chilling sensation, sometimes unpleasant, but I still feel like it's something we all need once in a while.

Tallying all of the time up, I probably spent nearly a year building this time capsule. I went through a lot of growth as a game developer over these past few years, and I really think Demon's Island was core to it. It wasn't just the technical skill required to make a multiplayer exploration game, but because it was also the last place I got to store a lot of the unbridled joy I felt with my friends before I had to suit up and try to become a "real" game developer. Excitedly promising my friends a trip to a mall that we could all walk around in before I moved away to some proverbial college town.

Demon's Island wasn't the first game to serve as a time capsule for me. Years ago I had this friend who I was close with and it was actually his body of work I used as a touch-stone to come back to a time I was quickly forgetting. His work always fascinated me because while I was struggling to try and make my games evolve (to disastrous results), he went with the flow and just did whatever he felt like. I think that's probably why his games managed to capture a lot of raw emotion that I was completely incapable of in my own work. It's tragic that I failed to understand the value of what he was doing because I was too distracted with trying to "become something."

I pushed him a lot, trying to encourage him to leave his comfort zone and make something more "tangible." He always responded that his work was just for his friends. He ALWAYS responded that his work was just for his friends.

We ended up separating around late 2019 after a serious personal rift outside of game development. I disappeared and moved on to another friend group, trying to pretend that nothing ever happened. He just moved at his own pace and continued onward like always. It was a hard time.

One day I was curious about what happened to him, and I eventually came to discover that he moved to 3D art. From what I could tell it seemed like he had found an audience for himself. I was happy for him. Despite the rift, I still wanted to see him succeed in the end. Even though I pushed him in the wrong direction, that was always what I wanted to see. Maybe it was for the best that he stopped being around me.

About a month or so ago I was reflecting over the games he and I used to make to a different friend of mine (who also knew him), and this friend condescendingly described my nostalgia as "immature." I never really confronted the way he phrased it, but I fumed internally. It's funny how a single, stupid word affected me so much. It frustrated me that one of the few things I had left that connected me with a happier time was now re-framed as something to be shoved under the rug. I think it's important that you occasionally take time to reminisce so you don't forget the events that are shaping the moment you're in. Sometimes you need to look back to figure out how everything got to this point.

I think the reason I've fixated on this concept of "games as time-capsules" is because I have an incredibly hard time remembering things. Not so much that my memories are being completely erased, but recollecting things becomes more and more difficult if I leave them alone for long enough. Now, it's not uncommon to have a hard time remembering things, but I definitely lose my grip on memories faster than the average person. I'm not sure if this is something I inherited from my mother (who's also had memory recollection issues her whole life) or if it's something else, but it's definitely made it difficult for me to retain most of the things that have made me who I am today.

The reminiscing isn't just to relive happier moments, it's also one of the only things I have that's keeping me tethered to my roots. The less and less I reflect, the deeper those memories sink into murky waters, to the point that it becomes nearly impossible to bring them back up. I've already lost so much of my past self this way that I can't help but be frustrated that I never took an effort to archive stuff from when I was younger.

The reason Demon's Island still matters to me is because it was the first time I had managed to make a game (without my old friend) capable of tethering me to a time that's been slipping away so fast. It's possibly the single most ridiculous, mind numbing game I've ever made, but it might have one of the most important roles in keeping my fading memories alive.

Somehow a bunch of silly dancing rat gifs have convergently evolved into this. I don't know if it's the funniest shit in the world or just tragically pathetic. Maybe it's both?

I think the most important part of this entire blog post is what follows. This is the only reason I found the motivation to re-examine my feelings about Demon's Island and make a retrospective.

About half a year ago, a woman contacted me on Patreon to tell me a story about her husband.

I was floored by this, not only because I was offered to be a part of something so meaningful, but for the first time this... Stupid little thing I built to scaffold my failing memory actually connected with someone. I immediately offered to do more than just a personal message or a secret image: I wanted to make them a special room to celebrate their anniversary. She decided to send me some images and videos from their relationship, and I stitched them together to make a little flowers n' fruits themed space. This was eventually packaged in a private version of the game, and after giving her the files I went to sleep.

I didn't hear anything for about a month or so, but the silence was broken when she sent me a video of her husband reacting to his gift. Despite all of the memories fading and twisting out of my mind like shopping bags in the wind, I don't think I'll ever forget seeing the genuine joy on his face.

For first time in my life, I felt like I had finally done something that mattered.

Before I received that message, Demon's Island wasn't special to anyone but me. For my friends, it was just a fun scrapbook from a time that we were all rapidly moving on from. For strangers the game was even more useless: it was just an unrelatable stream of conscious chattering from inside my head. Who was Tim? What's with the weird HPS1 rooms? Why is there a guy with cream all over his mouth on this Thanksgiving poster? Just a bundle of connectomes signaling to nothing in particular.

For me, it was one of the last things I had connecting me to one of the most important years in my life. After receiving that message, I understood that someone else connected with the game the way I did. It was the first time I felt like I was actually being seen. Of all the little funny moments that have happened in my time as a developer, this is the one I'm fondest of.

If you're a game developer and you happen to be reading this, I have a single recommendation for you. I think you should consider making a little world of your own. It doesn't have to be a "game." It doesn't need any core mechanics or structure. Just make a little world filled with memorabilia, and make a little character to let you walk through it.

Stupid in-jokes with your friends, images and gifs you like, weird drawings, photos you took, whatever you want. Just build a world for yourself (and maybe even your friends too if it interests them). Even if you don't release it, I think you'll be grateful in the end.

There might come a day where your world starts to melt into a blurred puddle, where every day feels the same and the endless grinding makes you want to scream. There might be a day where you forget that you were alive once, and maybe having that little bucket of memories will be the thing that keeps you moving on to tomorrow.

Anyhow, we're nearly done here. I wanted to end on this room. It's actually my favorite area in the game.

See, during the latter part of 2020 my grandmother died, and my world sort of got thrown into insane disarray. It resulted in us moving out of our old home to take care of hers, and during that move I decided to build a room out of textures from my backyard.

This little room is one of the few personal remnants I have from that old house. The house I spent my entire childhood in. The house where I started making games. Guess I'm glad I kept something to remember it by.

[aizawaslovebot]

I'm a sucker for angst to fluff stories.. surprise me for some Atsumu? Hehe thank youuu ❤

—nothing and everything

[atsumu miya x gn! reader]

synopsis: miya atsumu was more than content with the life he had with you

warnings: big sad, implied character death, implied accident, mention of the word ass like two times?

words: 1746

—note: so i made a big mistake 🤠 i thought you said angst or fluff so i went crazy with the angst HDJSJSJSN if you want angst to fluff, i can make a part two for this :D sorry agAin!! it was like 4AM when i read the inbox HDJSJSN i hope you enjoy, regardless :)

<- go to hq masterlist | part two for nothing and everyrhing

It was undeniable that Miya Atsumu had it all.

He was skilled in a lot of things, known for his impeccable volleyball plays, and had both looks and intelligence. Atsumu, the former Inarizaki turned MSBY Black Jackals setter, broke all boundaries and surpassed all expectations.

The setter was always content with the life he has lived and couldn’t ask for anything more.

Looking back on the fun memories of him as a setter— specifically the time when Kita was captain— he could never forget one of the people that made him become the Atsumu today.

It wasn’t his twin brother, Osamu, nor was it MSBY’s wing spiker, Sakusa. It was you, Y/N L/N, the former manager of Inarizaki and, now, MSBY, who held a place in Miya Atsumu’s heart.

Funnily enough, you two started on the wrong foot.

One day, while everyone was busy during free practice, Kita came in with a student behind him. Aran gathered the members (kids) in front of Kita and this mystery person, who, mind you, was very very pretty.

“This is Y/N L/N,” Kita introduced and you bowed, “our new manager.”

Atsumu’s eyes twinkled at this very attractive person, who he was sure had liked him too. Sadly, he shouldn’t have gone through with his assumption or at least, he should’ve followed Osamu’s silent warning not to do whatever stupid thing he was planning to do. Much to Aran’s dismay, Suna was encouraging the setter to continue as he held out his phone discreetly to record the whole thing.

Strutting confidently towards you, he wrapped an arm around your waist and said, “Hey, sweet cheeks.”

Regret came faster than the punch delivered to his gut, but Atsumu somehow felt giddy when you visibly staggered from being slightly flustered. He wanted to do it again, but it had to be some other time because Kita was scolding him right now.

Atsumu made it his mission to make you his, but even he wasn’t aware that that was what he wanted. All he knew was he couldn’t wait to fluster you again.

Maybe, through it all, he actually did succeed in both making you flustered and making you his.

Truthfully, you had come to tolerate the Miya Atsumu beneath it all— the one who was quick to analyzation then action; the one who could easily read you and your moods; and the one who never failed to make you happy.

Atsumu always greeted with a soft smile, shouting “Peaches!” when he sees you even from miles away. When asked why he called you that, he says it’s because of the shape of your ass— but Osamu knew it was because he liked your faint peach scent, Atsumu just can’t admit to being soft.

Miya Atsumu was always confident. Atsumu knew he had it all so he never faltered in anything. However, the setter couldn’t even sleep the day before he plans to ask you out— you’ve become such an important part of his life that he didn’t want to scare you at all with his feelings.

Once again, he really should’ve heed with Osamu’s assurance that you liked him back too, “‘Yer both simps for each other, ya know that?”

“Shut ‘yer trap.”

He asked you out successfully and he wouldn’t want it any way else.

A light punch to his shoulder snapped him from his reminiscing. It had actually been years since you got together and Atsumu was more than happy that your relationship stayed strong even as you grew older.

“You wound me, peaches,” Atsumu grinned stupidly, rubbing his shoulder. “Still calling me peaches, ‘tsum?” was your reply instead.

“It’s because I like your a—”

“‘Samu told me the truth, you know,” you giggled as you cut him off from his narration of how he loved your ass. He did love it though, it just happened not to be the actual reason behind the endearment.

Fake gagging could be heard from Bokuto and Hinata, with Sakusa just judging silently. “They’re at it again,” Hinata groaned.

Rolling your eyes, you bonk the now-taller male on the head. “Come on, you three, we’ll be late to meeting the others from Team Japan,” you grinned, but it was too scary that it made them follow, as you pull your dear Tsum to get moving.

No one will deny that you two were made for each other, even Sakusa could vouch for it. You are Atsumu’s anchor and Atsumu is your fresh breath of air. Sure, MSBY had to deal with pranks from the two of you and it was annoying sometimes, especially for the singles, to see a very loving couple. But you two deserved each other and the world.

The car ride was peaceful— a new for the rowdy MSBY quartet and the unfortunate manager. Only you and Atsumu were awake, his hand on your thigh while you had your eyes on the road.

It wasn’t often that Atsumu became soft. Heck, he even uses excuses for his nickname for you. But something in him just wanted to hold your hand and tell you that he loves you more than you could ever know.

So, that’s what he did.

“Peaches,” Atsumu sleepily murmurred, leaning his head on his side to get comfortable, “I love you so much, peaches.”

Miya Atsumu will always succeed in making you flustered, that’s for sure.

“I love you too, ‘tsum.”

You all arrived safely at the National Training Center, with Kuroo and Iwa waving from the entrance. The three energetic MSBY players zoomed off to greet their peers while you and Sakusa kept a normal pace. Sadly, Sakusa went ahead to the bathrooms; probably to clean his hands before meeting the others. So you walked to the meeting room with Kuroo and Iwaizumi instead, talking about nothing and everything.

“Still with the setter, huh?” Kuroo wiggled his eyebrows while Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

“Still can’t kiss your boyfriend, huh?” was your retort, earning a snort from the trainer and a groan from the promoter. “Why can’t you fight Iwa, instead? Why did you have to remind me? It’s been one week! I just accidentally turned his console off while he was streaming…”

All bickering that was about to happen had stopped when Coach Hibarida arrived. The flurry of players followed him as they took their seat in the room. It wasn’t time for the meeting yet, though, so everyone was casually talking to each other.

It turns out Coach Hibarida needed some important files that you opted to leave at your home with Atsumu because the coach said he didn’t need it. Apologetically, Coach Hibarida even bowed and asked if you could get it now.

You stammered at the sudden gesture from the older and reassured repeatedly that it was fine as you took your keys.

“You four better be on your best behavior while I’m gone,” You warned, particularly at the rowdy trio. Bokuto and Hinata whined but Atsumu was uncharacteristically quiet.

“‘Tsum, you okay?” You whispered, squishing his face with both of your hands.

If he were to be honest, something about today made him feel on edge. Red alarms were going on in his head now that you had to rush back home to get some files. He wanted you to stay here.

“Can you not go?” Atsumu asked, though both of you knew how important those files were.

“I’ll be back, ‘tsum. Love you,” You kissed him, not minding the fake gagging from the other three.

“Mhmm… I love you, peaches.”

You promised Atsumu.

You’ll be back.

Right?

It was an understatement to say that Atsumu was anxious after you left. He was beyond restless with how long it took you to arrive back to his side.

He didn’t even mind when his phone disturbed the meeting. Atsumu was just happy to get some sort of assurance that you were safe, seeing that it was your face that appeared on the screen.

“Peaches! You’re taking too long,” Atsumu laughed, although everyone knew it was off.

“...Peaches?”

“Is this Miya Atsumu?”

Why was it not your voice?

Why was the background so noisy?

Why weren’t you the one who answered?

“Sir, Y/N L/N got into an accident.”

The room fell to silence, curious and worried that one of their setters sat frozen to his seat as tears ran from his eyes. Kuroo, who happened to overhear the call because he sat beside Atsumu, rushed to Coach Hibarida to excuse himself and the shocked male to rush to your location.

Atsumu and Kuroo went out immediately, with the promoter choosing to drive for the both of them because he knew it was dangerous if Atsumu had to go by himself. The meeting even had to be postponed as the rest of the Jackals followed Kuroo’s texts, with Iwaizumi driving for them.

Miya Atsumu was always confident. Atsumu knew he had it all so he never faltered in anything. The only times he had been nervous were because of you; when he first met you, when he asked you out, and when he even bought a ring for you the other day.

But he didn’t like this feeling. He didn’t like the dread that came with his nervousness.

Atsumu almost bawled then and there when he saw your state. You’ve always been strong; stronger than Atsumu will ever be, and he has always loved you for that. So it hurt to see you like this.

All Atsumu could do right now is cry and wish and wish and wish that you’ll be okay.

You’ll be okay, then he’ll be okay too.

It was undeniable that Miya Atsumu had it all.

He was skilled in a lot of things, known for his impeccable volleyball plays, and had both looks and intelligence. Atsumu, the former-Inarizaki turned MSBY Black Jackals setter, broke all boundaries and surpassed all expectations.

The setter was always content with the life he has lived and couldn’t ask for anything more.

But as the heartbeat slowed down and became silently deafening, he was willing to give up everything he had, has, and will have just for one more minute. One more minute in exchange for everything that made him happy, because you’ll always be the source of his happiness and hope.

Now, Miya Atsumu will never be content with the life he will have to live without you.

And it was now undeniable that he had just lost it all.

—reblogging would help a lot! thank you for reading ❤️

[mirkwoodshewolf]

(Watson anon). Back from vacation. I have a question for you. It's okay if you don't have an answer. Got any advice for someone starting their freshman year of college? I start in a week, and I'm not the most social person. Also can't wait for your next piece. I always look forward to reading your work.

Hey hope you had a wonderful vacation. And no it’s no problem of course I’ll help you out, since you and I go back to college the same time, I literally go back next Monday. So buckle up cause I’ve got several things to share and I’m gonna break it up into a couple sections so here you are my lovely anon;

Alex’s declassified college survival guide (lol see what I did there......no? Okay I’ll shut up)

Academics:

1. First of all EVERYTHING your high school teachers have told you about college professors not understanding anything, about them not being fair about deadlines, or whatever. FORGET ABOUT IT. They’re lying. So to put a spin on Scott’s line in Endgame “So every horror story about college professors is just a bunch of bullshit?” In short terms, YES. College professors are REALLY understanding. I mean yeah some I have heard are tough when it comes to grading and all that, but not all of them. 

They are ALL understanding and just want you to succeed in your college career. So if you have any questions, concerns, anything. Always be open to ask them, you can send them an email, visit their office hours/schedule a one on one meeting, or meet with them either before or after class, they will help you 

2. MANAGE. YOUR. TIME: This is KEY!!! With college you definitely need to manage your time with your assignments. As an English major I can attone to this that when you need a rough draft essay of 8pgs due in a month’s time with at least 5 sources in the paper, you need to manage your time. And yeah I know all majors run differently but the work amount I’d imagine is still the same when it comes to projects, essays, homework assignments, readings, etc. 

So for me what I’ve always found easy when it comes to essays is start on at least a page a day, sometimes a page and a half if you can continue writing like if you’re explaining a source. Always reach deadlines with hw assignments cause those small points with how little they are worth, will REALLY affect your final grade if you end up only doing like half of the hw. So PAY ATTENTION to deadlines, they WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE. 

3. Now with college (depending on where you live here in the states or the UK or wherever in the world) Financial aid is tricky. So always keep an eye on your financial aid. I wish I could explain it better but I can’t cause there’s a whole paying process that I don’t understand plus my parents (I was fortunate as was my sister) that they dealt with our financial aid stuff and that my sister and I didn’t have to deal with it. But I can tell you is that when you apply for financial aid that is your payment for signing up for your classes. Again it’s confusing and I wish I could explain it better but maybe talk with your parents/guardian who has gone to college or is good with finances to help you or if you’re lucky you’ll be like me and not have to touch it yourself and they can just deal with it. But it’s always good to meet with an the Financial aid office in your university and ask questions to them.

Social:

Now I here what you’re saying about not being a big social person, believe me if it were up to me and I had no clubs to join, my whole college career would just be classes and school work (and it was while I was at NOVA) but I won’t get into that. 

And with my university, they REALLY encouraged us to go out and be apart of a club, organization, student union, fraternity/sorority whatever. So I know you may not like this answer but try to look up any clubs that interest you. When I found out about the cosplay club I was immediately hooked because it could help me with making future cosplays and I could get advice on what type of materials to use and where to by the cheapest material or just go to Good Will and get the stuff.

Not only that but I’ve made some good friends at the club, even after they’ve graduated we still do hangouts outside the school like movies, a yearly summer camping trips (we just had our second one back in June) and all that.

Again You can do you but if I’m being honest, think of college as being here on tumblr (I’ll use my college as an example). A complete diversity of people of all heritage, race, sexuality and genders. I’ve now got a better understanding of transgenders and pansexuals because I’ve got friends in my cosplay club who are trans and classmates who identify themselves as transgenders and pansexual or asexual or whatever sexual orientation they are.

I mean class projects will force you to work together with someone but you never know, that lab partner or classmate you sit beside or the group table you find yourself sitting at twice a day for classes, will eventually become your friend throughout the semester, or for the rest of your college career. I even have a friend who I’ve had in the same class for both the fall and spring semester who dealt with social anxiety but since she knew me from our storytelling class, I helped her click with our table and we’d just talk before class or during the break when the professor would give us a break.

But again it’s your life. If it’s too much then you don’t have to be a social butterfly, but it does help when you have someone to talk to and complain about the hardship of college when they go to the same college as you lol. 

Anyways that’s my survival guide. I know it’a a lot but college is a lot. But at the same time it’s no different than any other school you’ve been to. Just a lot bigger with campus size, parking and all that jazz. Hope you make good memories at your new college and good luck freshman, you’re gonna do GREAT things :) 

[b-lizi]

Flo's Journal

My dear Tamil,

This day could have ended well. This morning I went to school with Emilira and Famin, I had a lot of fun but there is a lot of work to do. The previous nights have made me tired, the awkward questions have tormented my mind and if I can ask them to my classmates, they are incapable of being able to answer them (and I understand them, children like me or others cannot answer to these questions). But adults scare me, I fear their mockery, I fear they'll roll their eyes and condescendingly reply, "You should already know that."

When I got home from school, I had to quickly do my homework to go and take my hunting lessons with Haydar. On the way, I remembered all our lessons, all the mistakes I had made to avoid recreating them again, I went over everything in my head and I came confident, full of good humor. Even though I'm not really into hunting, I'm happy to do it with Haydar, after which I can legally carry a bow and bring pride to me and to you.

But like the previous lessons, I fail. As soon as I nock my arrow well, my prey escapes, or my camel gets too excited, Haydar rebukes me "You better hold the straps!" Feet, feet! You know how to do it though! » and as I heard these remarks, I braced myself, I was able to concentrate less and less, my fingers were shaking, the Sun became more and more unbearable, slowly I regained the reflexes of a novice. And in the end Haydar pointed out my mistakes; he looked very unhappy (did he think I was wasting his time?); I recite my errors, which sometimes disappeared or sometimes were placed elsewhere. He told me to think, like all the other times, then he left on his side and I on the other after a wave of the hand.

The lessons are so simple and yet I never manage to complete them without more than five errors. I don't know what questions to ask because paradoxically I would ask all those that exist to be sure not to forget anything. Should I do it? Not do it ? In any case, I did not succeed in expressing the bottom of my thought, my throat was obstructed as if I had swallowed mud. In any case, what's the point of saying we didn't make such mistakes?

The teacher during a lesson only speaks to point out errors, never successes, because he would make the student too confident, who would induce himself more deeply into failure. It's strange that it works with others but not me. Do I have too little self-confidence? Do I have impostor syndrome? I came home disappointed and with a burning face, from the sun and shame. My stupidity will cost you dearly, dear Tamil. I could say I'm sorry, but all the excuses in the world can't pay for hunting lessons.

My emotions on the way decided to come back up and I couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Yet it is so simple! I know the moves, I know how to hold a bow, I know how to ride a camel, all in theory really. On the pitch, I was miserable. I intend to earn this right to wear the bow legally but how do you expect to have it if around you you are told about your mistakes and never about your successes? And you with your good advice: "You are no longer a child, you do not need to be encouraged. ».

I should listen to myself, remind myself of what it takes to move forward clearly, but I don't know, I don't know anything. Those are probably (again) silly excuses for you, but I don't know. It is impossible for me to encourage myself because I do not see what is good in me, what is useful, what deserves to grow. I don't have your faith, nor Haydar's, nor that of all those people we meet in life.

I am only sixteen, my tamil. I have four years left before reaching majority and it seems so far away. I feel like you're in a hurry to stuff me into an adult body when I just want to hug you. All the way home, an immense melancholy swept through my heart: every ten seconds, when my mind focused on one of its beats, the veins in my arms, chest, and legs were freezing as I sweated in the desert heat. The weather was beautiful, all around me happiness radiated. I had no right to feel frustration, to have my head in this black and invisible cloud, I had missed my session, that's life, why waste such a beautiful day? My tears flowed further.

I wiped my face very hard before entering the house. I don't know if you know, but I don't like walking in red-eyed with you walking up to me wondering what's wrong. Because you ask for an immediate answer and you hope that what I'm about to tell you doesn't spoil your evening when my throat is full of slime: if I say even a word I cry without stopping.

Then you leave, annoyed and upset, reproaching me for never telling you anything and for crying for nothing. I'm not saying anything then, I'm just telling you with the most normal and neutral voice possible that I'm back and that my classes will resume in two days. You're in your chair, a book in your hand. You are beautiful and quiet.

I forgot the rest, forgive me, I left this letter for a long time. But it will repeat itself once again, I will be able to complete my next letters a little better.

Affectionately, Flo