hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one.
wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
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i have this like one hc that pro-hero work involves a lot of traveling, especially in the beginning. they move here for six months and then there for four and then here for 14 and so on, just to get experience out in the field.
so it only makes sense you and bakugou end things, right at the start of his career.
and it's okay. it is. bc you both love each other and you know that, know that it's not ending bc of any huge, terrible fight that makes you enemies of one another. all the memories you'll carry can stay gold, not tarnished by anything other than the bittersweet distance.
getting used to it takes a little time, that's all; before he was your boyfriend, he was your friend, first and foremost. someone you had inside jokes with and had similar interests you could talk to about for hours, things that you only did with him and no one else. things only he knew. and not getting to tell him exciting news about college or ask if he saw the limited edition, golden age all might nendoroid they're releasing at the end of the year...sucks. it feels wrong, like these are things he's supposed to know, no matter what. things you're supposed to talk about.
you call him five months into his eight month nagoya contract and he doesn't answer. you think maybe he changed his number and didn't tell you, bc he doesn't actually have to anymore. bakugou has always been good about self control, keeping to himself, and it wouldn't surprise you if he's written you off without a second thought—bc this is how it's supposed to be when you break up with someone.
it's not until the next day that you get a text, late in the evening.
[9:26 PM] did you mean to call me
of course you did, but maybe you shouldn't have. hearing the line ring over and over again—it's cemented the realization that he's not thinking about you anymore. that he's moved on and you should too and he probably doesn't want to hear whatever if is you want to talk about. he'll probably just think you're weird. clingy.
yeah, but it's nothing important [9:32 PM]
he reads it immediately and—nothing happens. and you think that's it. hopefully you didn't come off too passive aggressive and now he thinks you're mad that he didn't answer. maybe you should have put an emoji, the little smiling one with the hands to show no biggie ! maybe you should have just said that, or that you couldn't remember the name of that hiking trail you did together two summers ago, but then you googled it and didn't need him anymore. or something.
he calls at 10:03.
your heart is in your throat when you pick up, beating like crazy bc you haven't heard his voice in a while. "uh, hello?"
and he hesitates too; his drawn out inhale doesn’t go unnoticed. "hey."
there's a brief period of silence on the line, some light shuffling on his end. sounds of cars passing, the rare honk of what traffic lingers this late at night. the wind scratches by, audible, and you shiver despite being in your own bed. you imagine him under a dim streetlight, fully outfitted.
bakugou huffs, "you called me?"
"yeah," you blink and sit up, though you don't know why. maybe because this needs your full attention, or because you don't want your voice to get muffled by your pillow. "i was just, uh—my roommate. she asked me if i've ever been to gekikara gourmet festival—"
"oh my god."
it's the exasperation in his voice that makes you laugh, so vivid, exactly as you remember it, and you can picture the face he must be making. "i know, i was like 'oh boy, have i'."
"d'you tell her you puked—"
"—with my head between my knees while sitting on that kiddie slide, yes i did."
he snorts, just the way he did as he patted the back of your head that night, awkwardly, standing beside you with a fist at his side. "told you not to try those fucking noodles."
you agree. "they were making even you sweat, i don't know what i was thinking."
it had been one of your first official dates, and you think all the spicy food didn't help with your restless nerves. it always felt stupid, looking back on it, to be so afraid; you'd known bakugou forever, and the only difference between that night and the many you'd spent before as friends was that he'd kissed your temple, lips red from spice and all. it was just bakugou, you thought. what was there to be anxious about?
and now the silence is making your stomach turn.
"yeah," you continue lamely, "nothing important, it just—made me think of you."
he doesn't say anything. if it weren't for the distant slam of something—a trash can lid or car door—you would think he hung up. he's always had a hard time with his words and you don't really even understand why he called instead of texting. if there was something he wanted to say to you, you aren't sure he could.
"so, i guess i'll let you—"
"y'got a roommate now?"
"uh, yeah." something ugly in your stomach wants there to be jealousy in his tone, and you shake your head to be rid of the thought. because it shouldn't matter. "she's in a couple of my classes. big fan of, like, kpop and stuff."
he snorts again and you can imagine the roll of his eyes, bright with amusement despite the frown on his lips. you love that look on him; so content that it felt out of his character, something he wanted to hide. being the cause of it has always been so sweet. "different apartment?"
"yeah, in a little dorm on campus." he didn't live with you long, just in the time between graduating and when his applications to agencies began returning acceptions. "couldn't afford that place by myself."
bakugou hums, and your eyes swim so suddenly that you have to take the phone away from your head. you wonder if he misses those days as much as you do. the simple life, doing the mundane together; washing clothes in the laundry room downstairs, having to clean the dishes by hand or the dishwasher would flood the tiny kitchen, taking quick showers together so that you'd both get hot water.
it was terrible. it was perfect. the kind of life you could never have, with dynamight.
his voice buzzes distantly and you sniff, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before putting the phone back up to your ear.
"what'd you say?"
"that—" he huffs, "nothin'." you sniff again, unthinking, and he goes completely silent again. no inhale, no exhale.
he's not stupid. he probably knew this would happen and that's why he didn't want to answer. it was hard enough for him to get the words out the first time ("just gonna be shit, for you to be waitin'. eraser told me not to—won't be able to keep any fucking—and i don't wanna be some jackass that just lets you down all the fuckin' time.")
"sorry," you laugh because you feel awkward, because you didn't mean to force what you've been suffocating on him all at once. "i don't know what just happened."
bakugou mumbles, "s'fine."
you think that even if there was something he wanted to say, he wouldn't know how.
"but yeah," you sigh and scrub a hand over your face again. "no biggie, just thought it was funny when she asked and wanted to tell you. it's actually kind of late and i need to head to bed, but i'll—" talk to him later, is what you want to say, but your stomach drops and you know that it's not that easy. not anymore.
maybe it will be one day in the future, but this is the life you have to live, for now. all you can do is hold onto that hope, as your throat tries to tighten again.
"fuck, i—" he breathes, so frustrated that it nearly becomes a grunt, "y'don't know how—just, goddammit, in three months i'll—"
"i know," you tell him, and you smile like he can see it. in three months, he'll come back, to accept another contract, and then he'll be gone again. if there was a way to make it work, bakugou would have found it. of all people, bakugou would have found it. "it's okay," you tell him.
and it is. it is.
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10, 26, and 27 please!!! 🧡🧡
Ahhhh! Yay! Thanks anon you're the best!
10) Pick an element for them! What is it?
For Jean, that's kind of a tough one but it'd probably be lightning! It's quick and flashy! I think she'd like the feeling of the crackle too! Plus she wouldn't need an Amp anymore! She would be the Amp!
26) What are their loved/liked gifts?
Oh! This isn't something I've thought a lot about! So thanks for asking this one!
Loved: Honey, pins and patches, stupid stickers, anything she can wear that will remind her of you, home cooked meals! (She cannot cook for shit, please help her.),
If you give her cds and records, she's on one knee with a ring out. Congratulations.
Liked: Any cool rock you find, plants (the only reason this isn't love, is because she's afraid she'll kill it and it'll make her sad), guitar picks, and energy drinks!
27) What are their hated/disliked gifts?
Again! Not something I thought about! This one is gonna be tricky Jean's not usually a picky person! She's just happy you thought of her.
Hated: anything too expensive - she's not a fan of people spending too much money on her, money (she'd rather you just keep it and use it on yourself)
Oh! Nuts! She's allergic! So she'll die. (Because that stupid ass will want to eat them very badly.)
Dislikes: Most gems (again, it's a bit too much. It's not that she doesn't appreciate it. It's just..not her style). Books (again, not that she doesn't appreciate it, she just won't have the time to read it.) She can't read.
And then probably things like mugs? She's never home so again it's another gift that will just collect dust.
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