#a snippet that i literally just wrote while still lying in bed why am i like this???

[shubaka]

I'M YELLING. I woke up and my brain immediately chose violence. It suddenly went "what if we write Filmania!Kim x BoC!Kim x Chay?" KhimhantKimChay, I guess. It's too early for this, brain. Why are you doing this to me???

Khimhant sees him waiting off to the side when the concert ends. He recognizes the face. Doe-like brown eyes framed by soft, slightly curled bangs. The face is slimmer than the last time he saw it, though. Khimhant gives the boy's body a once over. He's taller now, too.

Something itches under his skin, and before he knows it, he's crossing the room and sidling next to the boy.

"Phoenix's brother?" 

"Ah," the surprised yelp makes Khimhant’s blood thrum. "I'm sorry, what?" 

Khimhant’s grin widens, teeth on display. "You're Phoenix's brother," he repeats. "I remember seeing you sneak in to watch some of his fights a few years ago."

The sudden flush of red that creeps across the boy's cheeks is captivating. 

"Yeah," he laughs sheepishly. "I didn't expect anyone, let alone you, to know anything about that – or me."

Khimhant steps a little closer. "I have a good memory. I didn't know you were a Wik fan, though. I haven't seen you at any of his previous concerts. What's your name? Are you a new fan?"

Khimhant watches the red flush deepen. Interesting. 

"No! I – I've loved Wik since his early days! I just haven't been able to get tickets before! This is my first time. Um, My name is Porchay. " Arms flail about awkwardly, and Khimhant feels a little charmed despite himself. He knows Kim would be eating this up if he was here. "But you, uh, you can call me Chay."

"Well, I don't normally share, but," he steps forward again and feels the heat radiating off of the other's chest, and he tilts his head back, slowly, "would you like to come backstage and meet Wik?"

The sharp inhale and dilated pupils are enough of an answer for Khimhant. 

He reaches for Chay and wraps his fingers around a surprisingly strong wrist. He tugs Chay along with him in the direction of Kim's dressing room and says, casually, "This is my first time."

"What?"

Khimhant tosses a wide grin over his shoulder at Chay's confused stare. "Sharing my brother."

Chay stumbles and squeaks, and Khimhant suddenly feels the familiar weight of Kim's stare from across the room.

Oh, Khimhant has a good feeling about tonight.

#a snippet that i literally just wrote while still lying in bed why am i like this??? #i have other things i need to be doing lmao #kimchay #kimchay shenanigans #and oh god i can't believe im adding this tag but #kimcest shenanigans #my fic

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with tatooedlaura (Laura Sprys)

Laura has 28 fics at Gossamer, but the big treasure trove of her stories is at AO3, where she has 193 fics. Thank goodness for the richness of the X-Files and for talented, creative people like Laura who can find so many interesting ways to tell tales in the show’s universe. Big thanks to Laura for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Maybe reading mine but reading older fic in general is something I still do and something I still find entertaining. I do wish i could get into my old fics and post a warning that some of those were written before the author: ever had a drink, ever had sex, ever had a boyfriend, ever lived on her own, ever had a real job, or ever experienced much of anything in the real world.

Then again, fanfic is a perfect time capsule for the age and it’s always fun to see where the originals started and how they’ve grown.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

Back in the day and up and through today, it has always been a fun experience. From it, I’ve learned to love writing. I’ve learned that fans are crazy, weird, wonderful, generous, talented, committed, passionate, and imaginative. In a fandom, you can think whatever you wish and write about anything you like and because I’ve been around so long, I’ve gotten to watch the storylines shift and the relationships change ...

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Originally, I never had much interaction with people other than ones who sent emails commenting on my fanfic … the internet at my parents house was dial-up and I had to access through the AOL free disks that arrived in the mail so, for the most part, I didn’t have the bandwidth or the connection speed to do more than upload stories and download episode guides.

Good lord, I remember submitting a story and having to wait upwards of two days to two weeks before the new batch of stories was posted ... then ephemeral came around and you could actually have your story up in under a day ... all ya'll who started on tumblr and ao3, you have it great, let me tell you :)

One thing that stands out in my mind still (and I’m still friends with her on Facebook) was a woman from western Canada who I stumbled across somewhere while looking for the blooper reels. She offered to send me her copies on VHS for my collection. I don’t think she asked for payment and one day, a package arrived from a lovely woman near Lethbridge, bloopers playable, tapes labeled in clear printing. I still appreciate that 20 some odd years later :)

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

Fandoms are crazy places. Tread lightly at first but enjoy what you want, ignore what you don’t, rewrite what you hate, and write what you love. Don’t be an asshole when you don’t agree with someone … when you do, tell them …

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I was on board from the first episode. It was a show about two people who you felt were destined to be together but weren’t, and wouldn’t be for years. It was a cop show about aliens and a monster show with cops. I was in the right place at the right time in the right frame of mind and there was just something that clicked and I never looked back. Friends were not allowed to call me on Friday night and once it switched to Sunday, I made sure that my parents got us on early evening bowling league so we’d be home in time to watch. Even my boyfriend (eventual husband) knew to shut the hell up from 9-10pm, even if he was sitting next to me on the couch (with my parents in their chairs watching as well)

Also, my 56-year-old dad had a crush on Scully from the start so that was entertaining as hell as well

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I have been writing stories in my head for literally as long as I can remember. Watching some episode, I honestly don’t remember which one, I suddenly had an idea for a story about Mulder and Scully. I had never written a story with pre-existing characters before and it was totally foreign to me. How do you write a character with a current storyline. It was weird, it was difficult, it was some of the most fun I’d had writing up to that point.

Suddenly, I didn’t have to explain or describe the characters, think of jobs and mundane things … they already had those … and it was great.

Honest-to-God, my first fic was written, in pencil, on a yellow legal pad by flashlight while lying with my head at the foot of my bed so I could see my parents coming down the hall if they happened to wake up at midnight to go to the bathroom. Later fics were written by the light of an 10” TV/VCR combo with me still lying with my head at the foot of the bed. I still have those old legal pads somewhere and I remember having to type them in secret, having to wait until the house was empty for 20 minutes to an hour at a time. Uploading them was always unnerving because of the slow dial-up and the fact that I didn’t have my own email address, but had to use my dad’s. I’d have to make sure to check it whenever I could, intercept the feedback I’d get off gossamer.

I was such a damn rebel.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Well, I now know how to interact with people given tumblr and AO3 but it hasn’t changed much. I contribute a little more now that I understand posting on social media but mostly, I still just write like a fiend and post, read voraciously and give kudos and likes often, comment some and reblog.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

And nothing, absolutely nothing, has ever caught me like the X-Files did in regards to the fandom experience.

I have shows I watch and re-watch and re-watch but no two characters have ever had me writing and thinking and planning like Mulder and Scully. No other combo has ever made me write upwards of 300,000 or more total and still have plenty of stories to tell.

I’m okay with this.

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Aside from Mulder and Scully and the gentlemen three of Frohike, Langley, and Byers … I love all Scully’s nieces and nephews in my ‘Life’ series … I also love Corduroy (picture books), Harold (purple crayon fame), Neville Longbottom, the characters from my own novels, Katniss (book not movie), Anne Shirley, Elnora (from the Limberlost), Will Stanton/Merriman/Barney/Jane from ‘Dark is Rising’ and 10,459 others …

I’m a children’s librarian so most of my favorite books are those written for the younger and YA crowd. I like my job :)

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

I watch this show all the damn time. I will think about Mulder and Scully when I have nothing else to think about, normally writing and editing whatever story I may have in the hopper at the time about them.

My husband laughs when I have the show on. He knows all the episodes with me and it’s one of my comfort shows that I don’t have to pay attention to when it’s on. During it, I have edited books, decorated cookies, been sick, been recovering, simply wasted a perfectly good day because I could.

My 17-year-old daughter keeps it on while she does homework and works out.

It’s a staple at our house and no one is allowed to make fun of it, even though we all know that parts are completely ‘make fun-able’

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I read fic all the time … I have worked my way through AO3 starting from the beginning and if it was more easily readable on a phone, I’d work my way, once again, through gossamer.

Restated from above: I dabbled and have a favorite ‘Fringe’ fic … I tried to read a Harry Potter fic once … I type ‘West Wing’ occasionally in ao3 and tumblr ...

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I have all kinds of favorites on tumblr but right now, I honestly don’t remember most of the names … I pretty much read everything that comes through my dashboard and every few days, i read through the newest posts on AO3 … I love you all!!

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Of X-Files fics, I love my newer stuff … I read “Life” and its sequels every few months … ‘Your Place or Mine’ is another one I will read … actually, I’ll just say it .... I read all my own fic over and over again …

With fic, you get to write the characters as you want to see them and write situations that you want to see … I write for myself most of all and I love to read what I wrote :)

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I write them all the damn time. I have tons of snippets and half-finished that I occasionally glean things from but while sometimes, old stuff morphs into new, sometimes, it just needs to gather that dust and live a quiet little forgotten life in some backhand folder on my dropbox account ...

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

First question is answered above.

As for other creative work, I have published two YA novels, have the third in that series in editing … I have five other novels in the hopper in various stages of ‘good lord this needs an edit or twelve’ …

I am writing things constantly in my head or on my laptop … most is crap … stome sticks … some turns into fic and some turns into books …

But the point is, I am writing, in some form, at all time :)

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Some two sentence conversation will spark an idea … the line of a song will inspire an idea … a word will start a sentence which will turn into a paragraph which will tumble straight into a story … and sometimes, stuff just pops in my head for no damn reason at all ...

What's the story behind your pen name?

On gossamer, I am L. Sprys because that was my name at the time :)

On tumblr and AO3, I’m tatooedlaura because my name is Laura and I have, now, six tattoos (yes, I spelled it wrong in my handle but that’s life) … when I decided on the name, I think I only had two

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

They do now … it took me years to crack and tell them … my husband has never read them, nor have any of the people I have told (as far as I know)

Now, I don’t really care who knows … I’ll tell them I write smutty X-Files fanfiction and family-friendly X-Files fanfiction …

I am too old at this point to be embarrassed by what I like to do. If they laugh at me, I tell them they only get to laugh when they’ve published a book and I pull up my books on Amazon … I’ve only had to do that once and it shut them right the hell up …

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Gossamer: L. Sprys

Tumblr and AO3: tatooedlaura

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I love you! I see you! I appreciate you! I hope you enjoy! Don’t judge me for my grammar issues! I will never be able to spell the word ‘excersize’!

(Posted by Lilydale on April 27, 2021)

#old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #tatooedlaura #laura sprys

[winchester-reload]

hi! i just read your fic, After Dark (for the second time, it’s amazing, easily going into my top five favorite fics of all time, your writing and characterization of dean especially is phenomenal and knocked me off my feet), but i’m still a little fuzzy on the ending. if you find time, could you possibly explain? thank you so much, your writing is beautiful

Okay, so I know I’ve had this ask for a while. I haven’t been ignoring you. It’s just that this fic is one of those stories that was so consuming when I wrote it, I have a hard time diving back in when I get asks. It was my Everest. I was obsessed with finishing it but kept trying to die at the top of the mountain (so to speak).  I started writing it in June 2015 and didn’t finish it until December 2018. I have sooooo many notebooks filled with notes and rewrites for this story, it’s almost embarrassing. And, you’ve read it, so you probably know why: it’s INVOLVED. I mean, the very first chapter gives you the most important line from the penultimate chapter of the book.

So, yes. You know what? Let’s talk about After Dark. I’m ready.

Spoilers after the cut

I’m gonna do my best here to clear things up, but since you’re specifically asking about the end of the fic, I won’t do a complete chapter by chapter breakdown of the plot. Let’s instead pick up at Chapter 19 with a little more of a abridged version. 

In 19, we finally get our Sam breakdown of what he’s been trying to figure out from the beginning– why it struck him as odd that Dean and Cas had hooked up this time over all the times before. He realizes that the general assumption that God was the light that beat back the darkness wasn’t actually a metaphorical idea, but was, in fact, a literal one. God wasn’t the thing that conquered the Dark, the light he yielded was. That light was Love. Fun side note: The sources Sam cites in that chapter to support his theory are all actual academic sources/philosophical ideas. You can look any of them up to find out more about love as a daemon, or The Unity of Opposites theory. So, Dean now knows that Cas is being used by Alice for something, but doesn’t know what.

Ch 20: Alice explains that the only thing that can save Dean’s soul from its eternal fate with the Darkness is if he’s “released” (so to speak) by his light. She says that the way it works is through Cas’ ultimate broken heart.

“If he takes you, you don’t die out of hate, or spite, or fear,” she whispered. “There’s no jealousy or malice or revenge. You die in stark contrast to all those things. It’s the opposite of everything he’s ever wanted for you— Wanted with you. Everything he’s ever hoped or dreamed or fought for; he does it only because he loves you, and it’s that selflessness that cleanses the shadows. It’s the power of a broken heart.”

It’s Cas’ sacrifice that will save Dean’s soul. Alice is careful to tell Dean that he was never going to survive this. Cas  and everyone else is supposed to, but for Dean, it was always just a matter of where his soul ended up. 

Cas, of course, says he’ll do it and that Dean needn’t ask, because there’s not really a choice here.

Ch 21: We pick back up with an echo of Rowena and realize that everything she told him in Chapter 2 actually came true. (weird, right?)

Ch 22: Cas wakes up at “the start”, only, this time’s he’s fundamentally changed from the journey. It’s in this chapter that we find out why Cas was getting glimpses from the ‘end of the story’ throughout the book: 

Angels are ethereal. They’re not contained to a specific timeline–this is something they’ve talked about in canon. It was ONLY while Cas had his grace AND was actively dying that he was able to see snippets of the things that would happen after the events in Chapter 20. (IE: the dream he had in Chapter 8 of Crowley, the dream in Ch 15 where he’s walking across the field where the Winchesters crashed, even though he hadn’t actually been there yet, etc)  It turned out he wasn’t actually seeing or speaking to Rowena. She was more a figment of his subconscious as he tried to warn himself where this story was going. Unfortunately, there wasn’t really any way for him to stop the train. HOWEVER,

In Cas’ lame attempt to keep from drowning Dean like “The Fish” Rowena kept calling him, he’d made the conscious decision to give Dean some “wings” in Chapter 15. The grace had proven threatening/effective enough in the fight against the Darkness to that point, that it had spent the entire story trying to snuff Cas out. It was also the only element keeping Cas from becoming infected by the Darkness the same way Sam and the rest of the people were, which is why Cas quickly became infected after extracting it. 

So, when Dean got the grace in Chapter 15, it was enough to pull him back out of the Darkness’ grip and bring him back to life.

When Cas comes out the other side of the spell in this chapter, alive, as he was supposed to be, he realizes that everything had reset like Alice said it would– Except for him. He was still wearing the same clothes, and still dying from his own self-inflicted knife wound (sans Darkness insanity). (Dean, remember, was not supposed to reset. The actions he took during the fic were always supposed to be permanent for him.) 

It’s then that Cas understands that it’s not over yet; they’re still fundamentally connected through Cas’ grace, and that means, there’s a CHANCE that Dean’s still alive too (and with Cas’ grace). He asks Crowley to teleport him to the field he saw in his dream and it’s here that he finds Dean, still clinging to life and staring up at the newly found stars.

Cas rallies his grace one last time by laying a hand on the burn mark left on Dean, and uses the rest of it to save him. Then, the very exhausted, very exsanguinated human Cas topples over in the field.

Ch 23: is probably where I lost you and I’m gonna tell you, it’s very intentional that I’ve made you unsure. 

It starts with a dreamlike Cas in the field staring at the back of an ambulance bed. There are elements of the Darkness around him, filtering into the sky. He panics when he thinks it’s Dean on the back of the stretcher dead, but specifically points out the bare feet (Dean was in socked feet. It was mentioned multiple times in Chapter 18-20). Alice then comes out of nowhere and tackles him to the ground. She’s our dream stand-in for the things the EMTs are doing to save Cas in that moment (Cas was the one with bare feet) while she warns him that the Darkness is not gone. She tells him she’s proud of him for finding a loophole, but that he shouldn’t believe he’s won. He should, in fact, fear the opposite. 

“…it doesn’t matter how fucking proud of you I am for finding it” she says. “The truth of the matter is, it’s gonna take what it’s owed— Or try… ”

Cas then wakes up in Dean’s bed and Dean tells him he was having another nightmare. It’s established at this point that Cas has been having a lot of them since becoming human. So much so, that Dean is practiced in dealing with bringing Cas back down. Cas gets frustrated with the situation and with himself and goes to wander through the bunker and get water. Dean chases after him, like the good caretaker he is.

Cas tells Dean that he doesn’t believe it’s a nightmare. He believes that the conversation with Alice really happened and that the Darkness is not gone, but, maybe, lying in wait either to attack again, or, even, MAYBE, that it already has him… (Not Dean, but Cas this time. Like a trade.)

This leaves us, the reader with the uneasy feeling that that might be true. We’re in Cas’ POV and the last we saw him, he was face down in a field bleeding out from a wound he was probably not gonna be able to recover from. If he’s not sure what’s real and what’s a dream, then how can we be? This is amplified by the fact that everything Cas has done in the story to this point has been proven true, so we want to believe him. But his unsureness feels so much more like the answer we don’t want. 

Our unease is punctuated by small things like 1. Dean wearing a purple shirt* when Cas had specifically named that as a color he’d never seen Dean wear before (Ch 19). And then, of course, 2. the fact that his coat is there when it shouldn’t be. Did Alice leave it? Why would she leave it? How could she leave it?

We’re left, like Cas, not sure if the story has ended like it appears to have ended. We’re unsure if they both made it out safe. If they’re really together. And with everything so damn woven, how can we just have these plot holes???? 

But, that’s also kind of the nature of the trauma Cas has endured. And, if he wasn’t really living this moment with Dean, then why is he healing slowly from his wounds? Why is he out of breath before he gets to the kitchen? (You know how it is when you’ve been laid up for a long stint. EVERYTHING IT HARD.) 

So, you, like Cas, find yourself placing your trust in Dean as he reassures Cas that it wouldn’t matter if it’s not over.

 “Because you an’ me, we’re unbreakable.” 

And now this is where you really hate me because I’m not going to tell you one way or the other. I’m gonna let the story speak for itself. I will say that I would NEVER want to put them through all of that if they couldn’t live in the sunshine on the other side, though.

*more on the color purple

#luniares #and THAT is the story that tried to kill me #essentially #destiel #destiel fic #my fic #after dark #flashing gif #my art

[why-to-kay]

Wrong Hope

So here it is. My emotional rock bottom. Actually, i’m not going to hold back this time.

For three months i have being getting over a relationship break up. For three months i have been wondering if i have overreacted to it, if i have become obsessed over it, if three months is actually enough time to get over it, if other people were to look at me would they see a rational response or would they wonder if i’m going crazy over this. For three months i have had all this in my head and more and i have been wondering when it will cease. I want it to stop. 

A cancer in my mind, eating away at my thoughts. Reoccurring dreams that seem to beat me, hurt me, inflict great pain upon me and in all of it i feel SELFISH. I’m feeling this and then there are people who have it worse than me, so I invalidate my own feelings and i’m just tired of it. I feel selfish because this blog, it’s all about me and i hate talking about me from a vulnerable position. 

So for these three months... trying to make friends with myself like i so often say to do is fucking hard. It’s fucking infuriating and i’m just at the fucking bottom now. The trigger for is this is possibly finding out that the girl i’ve been trying to get over is now in a relationship. Possibly. And even if this is me overreacting... actually, let me first explore that word “overreacting”. 

I write these posts when i can. I really have to force myself sometimes but i know it’s better to get this shit out there. But it’s horrible. It’s uncomfortable and EVERY time i write one, i feel like i’m blowing my feelings out of proportion, that i’m whining and that i’m going through something everyone has at one point so i should just shut up and take it. When i say overreacting, i mean it in the literal sense of me reacting to something TOO much. 

Even if this is me overreacting to some snippets of conversation and me inferring that she is now in a relationship, it doesn’t fucking matter. She will get over me and i her and sooner or later one of us will be in a relationship with someone else first. Right? This might be the day i’ve been dreading or it might get delayed. Now that i’ve had this possible “scare”, i may as well deal with it all now. So i will. And this will be my longest post and i will get everything out there because the energy expenditure to not scream this all, to not run for 9 hours to her house and shout it at her is just simply too much for me to bear.

When i sit at my computer typing these, i hope beyond hope that she will read them. Not to make her feel guilty, not to cause her pain but for her to see that i am changing. That i’m trying so fucking desperately to keep my head above this sea of shit. As my friend said, sometimes i just get stuck in the swamp of sadness, mud and shit. It all clings to me as i try frantically to wade out of it. But after a while, i just stop trying. I fall to my knees and i just rub it all in, because after all, why should i try to get out? Why should i fight this creeping malaise? My friend describes it like this because he can figuratively see it on me. He tries to help me but what’s the point if i don’t help myself. I digress here but can you just see what happens, can you visualise it? Battling against your own internal conflict and this knot in your stomach that makes you want to wretch your heart out. It’s a waking nightmare and a sleeping dog ready to sniff out your moment of weakness and strike you with memories, pain and a fear of being alone. 

It’s all so emotive because that’s just how it has to be. How else do i convey these feelings? Allow me to tell a story that will perfectly illuminate why the fuck this all matters:

My girlfriend, she broke up with me. At first, there were these vague reasons as to why. Obviously i was dazed and nonplussed at the sheer suddenness of it all. Typically, as it all strikes us in these times, i went through the very common stages of grief. Firstly, denial swept over me like a calm wave rolling into the beach. Oh but i am lying of course, denial was never so kind. It grabbed my mind, held it tight and shouted at me in it’s delightfully booming voice “this. isn’t. happening”. What could i do but repeat those words over and over and over again. I made it my identity. 

It wasn’t happening. It was a dream. This can’t be real. This makes no sense. You’re joking, right? 

All those denial-ist phrases and more poured out of me. She replied to each one with “it is real”. After a while of sheer confusion the ever so polite anger came into the folly. But of course, his mood quickly went south and engulfed my thoughts like mould around fruit. It seeps into everything, down every passage, through every pore. All consuming and all mighty, how could i hold it back? So i got mad. I had a go at her, i insulted her, i spoke down to her but, thankfully, she took it all... to a degree. 

My seething rage was one of the most rational rages i’ve had. It wasn’t anger from a dark place, it was anger from hurt, from pain. It was an anger that could be bargained with and spoken to with a calm tongue to ease the torment behind it. That’s why, after a short time of talking, it receded into the fool’s gold of grief: bargaining. Why fool’s gold? Because it tricks you into thinking there is hope and you can talk your way out of all this shit but you can’t. It’s faux. Faux bargaining. You try to trade dignity, sometimes sex or all manner of things to get 1 minute, 1 hour, 1 day, etc. of faux resolutions that you think will stop the grief and (in my case) stop the relationship from ending. 

My faux resolution lasted 1 month. A month where i buried everything i felt deep inside. I mean i really buried it. My lovely friend denial helped. He said everything was fine and took all those worries and parts of the grief all the way down into my core... where it’d rot and fester. But as long as i wasn’t aware, my faux resolution could just quite maybe almost possibly become a real resolution, right? If i did some work on myself, if i changed, if, if, if, if, just a series of endless “ifs” that would get me closer to my gold. My fool’s gold. Typically, it fell apart. But not why you’d think. She realised that it wasn’t about me or our relationship, it was about her as a person. This is actually a really important thing i want to talk about.

We often forget that the person next to us, is us. They have ideas, dreams, goals, hopes, fears, secrets, thoughts. They are conscious. They do things to a certain code and thinking process that only slightly differs to our own in some cases. I don’t mean “our” as a collective, but rather an iterator over each member of humanity. To tie this in with what she realised, it’s also something i realised. The big beautiful word here is empathy. To empathise with her in this moment where i am hurting is something i am proud of. What she realised it she truly wasn’t happy in herself. She needs time and a friend in herself for real betterment. At first, i was cynical. But over time (and time is the greatest proponent for change), my view changed. People who read this might be cynical to everything i wrote. They might say, as i thought initially, that “she is just saying that to ease the pain on you”. But does it ease the pain? The end result is the same: we’re not together anymore. The end feelings are the same: i’m fucking miserable and miss her a lot. There is no ease. There is no need to be cynical. Her profound realisation, while it hurts me a lot, benefits her in a way i could never ever provide. Like i said, it’s not a comfort for me but thinking it could be is just selfish. What else can i do but be proud of her from afar?

That previous paragraph was a big detour but it needs to be said since it’s a revelation i’m only just having. Unfortunately, the story isn’t over, and the stages of grief must continue to perhaps the worst part of the 5 stages. Depression. I could write a book on how it feels, using every idiom, metaphor and simile i know. But in the end, depression will be in your system before you write that book and it’ll sure as hell still be there after. After that “trial month” or “faux resolution month”, everything my denial pushed down erupted in the amalgam of pure sadness. The best way i can think of describing it is like a river. While meek it looks to the observer, enter in and you shall surely be washed away by it’s current, maybe even drown. It will erode the banks you stand on, it will take the things you throw in it and cover them under it’s disgusting river bed. Memories you hold dear could so easily slip in and be washed under. Attempts to salvage them yields this black sludge that cannot be cleaned away. Soothing water is the guise it uses to lure you in. In fact, the “water” is mostly your mental energy, slowly draining away from the source. And after all is done and you simply give up, it will still be there. It will still be there. Out of the 5 stages, depression will still be there in you. 

But there’s hope. There’s always hope. However, this isn’t the pleasant end to the story since, well, there isn’t one. There is always hope true, but there’s wrong hope and right hope. I must confess that i cannot stop clinging onto the wrong hope. My final message to her, to sum up, is like closing a door but leaving it unlocked. Our relationship is over, i’ve finally accepted it but i still love her. The door is closed but, like all good functioning doors, it can be opened again. It won’t pick up what’s left off, it won’t start midway. It will open at the start of the corridor, a long winding path that has an occluded future but one filled with my favourite word of all: hope. To open it however, you must be polite and knock. You must enquire as to if anyone is behind it and open it slowly so it doesn’t creak. You must treat the door as if it’s never been opened before. It’s an unlocked door so of course it has history, but we mustn’t forget where history lead us last time. 

That was my final gift. No hate, no anger, no resentment, simply an offer that will stand like a door. Doesn’t that just sound so pure and sweet? 

Unhealthily, i’ve become attached to that sentiment. I desire it. My reoccurring dreams both fuel me and siphon me. My wrong hope is that she takes my offer when she is ready. Because i hope it so dearly and do not let it go, i am not allowing myself to get over her. Why does the thought of her being in another relationship poison my mind so? It’s due to me seeing it all as a betrayal. 

We split up amicably and because of reasons that aren’t due to incompatibility or malice towards each other. For her to be ready for a new relationship, i feel it my right that she should pick me first. That’s what my insecurity cries and my wrong hope demands. In those twisted aspects, i see this as a betrayal. I write all this to illustrate a very important point:

I am not bad. I don’t want to be bad. Having these feelings, hoping the things i hope, i feel that i am bad. Do i want her to be happy? Yes. If happiness means moving on from me and finding another person, do i want that for her? ....

No.

The guilt and sadness amalgamate in me. Thick with black does the river run. I don’t know what to do now. Honestly. I sort of feel i’m back in this “denial daze”. I want to message her and ask. I want to show her this blog and say “look at the vulnerability and tell me i’ve changed for the better, please”. I want to ask my friends if they know if she’s in a relationship or not but i can’t do that. These friendships i have are dog-eat-dog. Show one sign of “weakness” (vulnerability) and you’re fucked. Loving your ex? You’re going to get mocked to shit. 

The only positive out of all this is that i’m stopping with the “I” orientated posts. I want to help people. What we all really want it for someone to hug us and say “i see you” or “i understand you” or even just “i love you”. Innocent and innocuous, nothing more nothing less. Moments of pure understanding is what i offer to the world. Hopefully, with my lovely companion, time, will i get over that guilt and change the “no” to a “yes”.

#truth #confession #self love #self care #grief #sad #love #relationships #honestly #nunya