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typologycentral · 6 years

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[Fi] Bloody Fi purge! Your inferior cousin needs some dominant and auxiliary guidance.

To preface: I love you XNFPs and unbeknownst to me, always have. For one, it's been edifying and validating to see some of my all-time favorite humans (writers, musicians, actors, thinkers, etc...) being typed as XNFP. Even before learning about typology and gaining a deeper understanding of Jungian cognitive functions, I was actively working on (what I now know to be) Fi development because a lack of it had reaped much unnecessary hardship onto my life. Therefore, I think that conscientious journey led me to people that embodied their Fi with vigor and authenticity and helped me get in touch with my own, for which I am eternally grateful. And now on to the issue at hand (this is a long read but I'm trying to give relatively detailed information that might help you to help me): For a little under a decade, since high school, I've had an on and off, pseudo-platonic, quasi-romantic, eternal soulmate, occasional f-buddy relationship with this ebullient, effervescent, deeply insightful, dreamy eyed, pixie warrior priestess (INFP) that, in my relatively short life, has always stood a mile apart from the "Gone Girl/Cersei Lannister/Elle Driver/Cookie Lyon/Harley Quinn/Akasha, Queen of the Damned" fare I've usually attracted [strike]...and been equally attracted to[/strike]. Our first interaction was a classroom debate turned bloodstained duel to the death over the ethics of eating animals (I swear on the atom, this is not a utilization of an NFP stereotype lol). Something clicked (energy + angst + lust + social isolation + troubled pasts), and from there, this happened > I'd never before intimately known someone who had the chasm of incongruously layered emotionality she possessed--ostensibly she experienced feelings in a plethora of shades from eggshell, hunter green, and cobalt blue to neon yellow and not only that, could verbalize them as such. Meanwhile, I only had ready access to basic black, white, red (all degrees of rage), grey, and at my best, a metallic gold. Though wholly confounding, maddening and taxing to me, I had never felt more woke and unchained and set free. It was intoxicating to experience a wider array, a more diverse palette of feelings. I obviously never reached her depths, patterns and colors, but even experiencing a trifle more than I was previously accustomed to felt like a massive, tectonic plate moving, internal shift. She saw me shed an actual, solitary tear once under extreme duress but in better times, just by staring into my eyes and smiling on a whim she could easily make me mist up with soul purifying relief, which was a gargantuan, almost incomprehensible feat for lesser mortals and I truly honestly never before felt so connected to someone on a level that was nigh impossible to articulate in a rational way. And particularly when she was sad and grieving (probably because of me), which often left me feeling inadequate because I was too emotionally dumb and powerless to effectively help--which, in and of itself, beset me with very real, very potent, personal "trigger" landmines. Especially back then, I neither spoke of nor experienced emotions with great affect. I understood them cognitively and intellectually, but to actually engage them with my "heart" felt like a blind man wading neck-deep in cement. My take on our biggest, most immediate problem aside from all the other reasons this union was likely to fail? We just spoke completely different cognitive "languages (Ni vs Si? Dom Fi vs Inferior Fi? Dom Te vs. Inferior Te?)" that always created endless communication gaffs, roadblocks and nuclear disasters. For example: Pixie: "Did I see you at Starbucks earlier today with Cersei f%#king Lannister when you were supposed to be at a study group?" Me: "That was the study group." Pixie: *heart imploding with the force of a billion suns* "Why didn't you tell me that?" Me: *blistering dispassion with a hint of exasperated bemusement* "Look, our past relationship is just that, in the past. You have nothing to feel insecure about. It was harmless, only work. You know I love you." Pixie: "That's not what I asked you! Stop lying and trying to hide and sugarcoat things! You know I hate that brother f%#king bitch! Why didn't you tell me you were going to see her? Me: *voice box shredding like the Hulk's Capri pants* "Because that was fucking irrelevant. She was put in a group with me! Her strategy to double-cross Dany and Jon will fall to shit, for Christ sakes. Are you happy now? You always focus on the wrong thing!" She always wanted to know the exact details behind what actually happened in a very direct, matter of fact way (perhaps to refine the many possibilities she generated for why I would withhold supposedly important information from her), whereas I always instinctively and immediately went to why I did something or the "why" concerning the underlying problem, because the "why," the deeper meaning (should and theoretically, in my mind) supersedes anything else, and especially when problem solving and coming up with a viable solution imo. Ultimately, it just didn't work. Idiotically yet idealistically, we wouldn't let that stop us. We broke up and got back together a few times before deciding that we were better off as this nebulous, ill defined glob of corrupted love and unresolved daddy/mommy abandonment issues that maybe one day might actually not fall apart at the seams just as it's getting good again. The whole idea and its subsequent execution was dysfunctional, unhealthy, ridiculous and plain ol stupid, but I gather this was us trying to be intense, brooding and deep. Dunno exactly. We'd go on to see other people and sometimes, in between relationships, link up again. Usually we couldn't reach a year and a half before we wound up back in the other's arms/bed. Moving on. She experienced a tragedy (by her standards) about 3 years ago while I was literally on the opposite side of the planet and whereas I would've normally come flying to her aid with an S on my chest, I made the conscious choice not to. Already enduring my ascent to power (lol) being stifled because of my brokedown Fi usage as it pertains to my burgeoning career, I resented yet another unwieldy force (Pixie) possessing that type of influence over me as well; I defiantly chose self-interest above anyone or anything else (like I'm instinctively wont to do, right or wrong, good or bad). She kept trying to reach me to the point of flooding all of our communication channels with emotional spam (from childish antics to vile, unforgivable diatribes). After a while, I felt bad, decided to reach out to her but was ignored for 2.5 years straight. That had never happened before--it broke our unspoken rule, which devastated me more than I realized. I grieved (rather poorly by over-utilizing Se), but eventually tucked it away, moved on and focused on work. I figured we were never meant to be anyway but that I would still love her (from afar) and wish her the best regardless. Lo and behold, she called me last night out of nowhere, drunkenly seeping concentrated pain, spewing regret, betrayal, rejection, abandonment, hatred and then love for me. She says, through tears, that she's still in love with me and wants to know if there's any chance for an "us." I felt terrible and thoroughly confused. I tried to listen and be supportive (my Te is completely inept at properly addressing/handling others' intense feelings)--I just don't naturally "speak" emotions in an unforced, compassionate, empathetic, organic manner. I'm better than I used to be but I was blindsided, taken aback and don't think I did much good. Honestly, I don't need or want this in my life right now; I'm so engrossed in my work and achieving my goals and going by what she was saying over the phone, she's still stuck in past patterns of dysfunction. I don't want that anymore. But I truly do care for her and want her to be well and happy--just not with me and not right now, at least. I hate that she is suffering but I don't know what, if anything, I should/could do to remedy this. And now, finally, here are my questions to you smart, capable, helpful people*/**: 1. When you are expressing your feelings (whether "good" or "bad"), what is the best way to respond to this that will make you feel heard, understood and validated? 2. When overcome with negative feelings that seem too powerful and unrelenting, how do you self-soothe (using safe + legal methods)? 3. Is there anyway I can speak my truth and tell her honestly where I'm at and what I want at this point in my life without further hurting her? Should I do it regardless or is it better to wait for when she's more stable? 4. Tangent, now that I have you > How do you know what you value? (Is that a stupid question? lol) I think I know what I value ("money-power-respect," knowledge, meaning/substance, fairness, justice, individuality) but it can be hard to finesse on the spot (when asked) and not come off as crude and unrefined. Do you spend a lot of time going over in your mind what is meaningful and significant to you, or do you just know somehow? (like how I seemingly "know" and intuit stuff via introverted intuition) To those who made it all the way to the end, thank you. I would really really really really appreciate some help. I have very few people in my life I trust to give me strong emotions related advice and none of them are XNFPs. Their emotions are just as trash and poorly developed as mine are. lol *Obviously, there are a multitude of ways that people respond to these things that exclude type but I'm looking for any and all variations, particularly from XNFPs and anyone else who can provide insight. **And I will shamelessly bump this thread until I obtain the breadth of insight I seek. :shrug: https://www.typologycentral.com/forums/showthread.php?t=93755&goto=newpost&utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

#The NF Idyllic (ENFP #INFP #ENFJ #INFJ)

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lovedaisy02 · 7 years

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Of Cocktails and Vampires

Alex was going to kill her.

Supergirl circled the sky that night considering her options. The hunger gnawed at her--a deep ache, suffocating. She cursed silently to herself wondering if she would make it home. Forget it.. She thought as the strength began to leave her. She stopped her flight and hovered above the street, she spotted a crowded building near by, and figures drifting in and out. Gently she drifted down into a back alley and kept an eye on the main road, waiting. Soon a figure broke away from the crowd and kaira seized her chance.

Just one bite.

-----------

Lena was having a stressful night. Mountains of paperwork, countless meetings and a cocktail party. She had only just been able to politely escape when her assistant, Jess, went missing. Lena ventured down the street in the direction she last saw the woman go--tightening her coat around herself. Home and a bath, she thought sighing wistfully, when a noise caught her attention. Curiously she stepped towards an alley, squinting to see in the dim lighting. As her eyes adjusted she was able to make out two figures: one taller, hunched over the other.Normally, Lena would have the good sense to move on and certainly would not continue to edge closer--but something beckoned her forwards,. She felt drawn to the scene, as if an invisible force pulled her closer, unable to tear her eyes away or stop her advancement. When she was just ten paces away, the clouds shifted allowing the moon’s light to shine through, and Lena couldn’t help the strangled gasp that escaped her throat. Illuminated were the two figures, one was Jess, who lay limp in non other than Supergirl’s arms. The Super had a firm grip on one of Jess’s wrists, lips firmly pressed to the vein. Slowly, the hero pulled away, Lena watched hypnotized as the woman’s blue eyes shone red--the same color as the blood now dripping down her mouth--before reverting back to their normal cobalt. Suddenly, as if becoming aware of herself, Supergirl’s eyes snapped over to Lena before widening.

They both had the same thought.

Oh shit.

--------

Oh Rao, Rao, Rao! Kara panicked internally as she flew holding onto none other than Lena Luthor.

“I can’t believe this.”

Kara needed to replenish her powers, just a quick feed, that’s all she stopped for. She had even avoided the throat, just like Alex told her, wrist gashes were easier to explain. She thought she’d been careful--but she was spotted. THe moment Kara had com back to herself and noticed Lena standing there, she immediately attempted to hypnotize the woman, in hopes of altering her image perception, but to her dismay it didn’t work. In a moment of panic Kara willed lena to sleep briefly and took her back with her.

Alex is so going to kill me.

She had sent off an SOS message to Alex right away, and wasn’t surprised to see her sister waiting as Kara landed in the apartment.

“Hey, I was already on my way here when y--” Her adoptive sister froze and her eyes grew wide, “is that Lena Luthor?” She hissed.

“I have a problem.” Kara said breathlessly as she deposited Lena on her couch.

“Kara, your teeth are showing.” Alex absently mentioned, Kara quickly retracted her fangs until they were only just noticeable.

“I was drained from the fight and I stopped on the way--”

“--Kara you didn’t.”

“--I had to, and well,” She fiddled nervously, “Lena, um, might have seen me.”

“What! Kara.”

“I know, I know!”

“So why did you bring her here?” Alex asked exasperated.

“I don’t know, I panicked!”

“You--ugh, well didn’t you alter her memory?”

Kara huffed, “that’s not exactly how it works,” Alex gave a sigh, Kara continued, “I tried Alex, it didn’t work!”

“What does that even mean? How can it not work!”

The two continued to argue as Kara grew anxious and Alex annoyed. They suddenly fell silent as a groan came from the coach.

“Oh shit.” Alex whispered. The sisters stood still as they watched Lena rouse from her induced sleep. The Luthor blinked, appearing slightly dazed; she sat for a moment in confusion before her eyes widened and her mouth opened.

“Holy--Supergirl and feeding--Supergirl is a vampire!” She exclaimed to herself.

“Well, I wouldn’t use that term myself…”

Lena gasped and whirled around, staring at them in alarm. Kara gave a half smile and an awkward wave.

“Um..” Alex cleared her throat, “Sorry, Miss Luthor we had to deal with the situation in such a…” Alex glanced to her sister, “rushed manner...but this is about public security and we needed to brief you as soon as possible, we don’t want to alarm you” She explained in her FBI tone, attempting to keep the woman calm. “I work personally with Supergirl here--I’m an agent.” She slowly flashed Lena her badge. Lena relaxed slightly but her gaze remained wary.

Seeing as Kara seemed to lack the ability to speak, Alex continued with her best explanation, trying to show confidence.

“Supergirl’s, situation, is a well guarded secret, the people are already uncomfortable with extraterrestrials, for safety reasons, it would be best for only a few--if any--were to know. Now that you have knowledge to that, we need to make sure you won’t tell anyone else.”

The Luthor’s eyes darted back and forth between them but lingered more on Kara.

She straightened her back and tried to soothe her fluttering heart, “I suppose you won’t just take my word for it.”

“No, unfortunately not. You’re going to have to stay here until we get the right paperwork sorted out.”

“I see, and I’m guessing I don’t have much of a choice?” Lena asked, eyebrow lifting in a perfect arch.

“No.” Alex replied simply, staying guarded. Lena held her Luthor persona together as she asked one last question:

“How long will you keep me here?”

Alex looked again at her sister who still chose to stay silent. She sighed and answered. “Indefinitely.”

-------------

It had been two weeks.

Two weeks since Lena was, well quite literally, abducted. Although she held little fear towards her captors (who were inclined to abundant amounts of pizza and movies), it was tedious to be kept (mostly) against her will for so long. But, it gave her ample opportunity to observe Supergirl, and keep notes. As a scientist, she had no reason to deny the proof being presented to her, and she wasn’t cemented in her world views so much that she wouldn’t be able to change her mindset. Obviously, vampires exist--or vampiric beings anyway. She would not give up the opportunity to learn as much as possible about them. It was hard without her lab and the little contact she had with the outside world, (limited to a monitored call she to a very concerned Jess, informing her that she decided to take a vacation), Lena wasn’t too worried about her job, as Head Researcher of LuthorCorp, she made sure each of her employees could function independently, and with little need of direction from her--no, what she really missed was her various projects. She sighed again and curled up on the couch she had grown familiar with.The first few days had been a jumbled mess of paperwork, questioning, and a conversation with a displeased looking man.

Who had just entered the apartment. Lena turned her head in the direction of the door as it swung open immediately on guard.

“Miss Luthor,” J’onn tilted his head in her direction; she returned with a strained smile, and a carefully raised eyebrow. Agent Danvers followed in after, along with a sheepish looking Supergirl. “We thought about your suggestion, and we all believe it would be the best course of action.”

Lena felt her heart pick up in excitement. Over the past few days during the agreements, Lena had offered a solution. In return for her continued silence, she would be allowed to, within reason, to observe Supergirl and her behaviors.

“But,” Alex interjected, “you won’t be allowed to leave the apartment for a while longer, and you must stay under our surveillance.” Lena half expected that outcome, after experiencing how protective Alex is.

“Very well.” She agreed easily with a brief glance to the blond superhero in question. The others seemed equally relieved and confused to her easy agreement.

“Good. Agent Danvers, Supergirl, I’ll trust you to handle the rest.” J’onn nodded to Lena before turning and leaving.

Alex sighed after the door closed, “I have to get going,” she said as she took out her phone. “Remember,” she directed at Lena, “I have my eye on you,” then she turned to Supergirl, “and you be careful.” The Agent threw one last look to Lena before grabbing her jacket and leaving.

After the two departures Supergirl and Lena sat in comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for Lena, Supergirl looked unsure; she twirled her fingers and bounced on her feet every so often, the sight was odd to see, it made her look, for a lack of a better word, human. Though, Lena was content to let her suffer, and reached for the remote.

A few moments later and Supergirl came to hover above the couch.

“So…” she began.

“So…” Lena replied amused.

The hero bit her lip in thought, and opened her mouth only to close it again. She cleared her throat, “um, what are we watching?”

Lena smiled to herself.

--------------

“Leeeeeenaaaa.” Kara whined. The heiress gave her an unimpressed look. Kara pouted at her, “I want to watch the Lion King!”

Lena sighed, “just a few more tests, now sit still,” she murmured back. Kara sighed but obeyed.

“Why are you so interested anyway?” Kara asked the Luthor.

Lena stayed silent as she worked, and Kara almost thought she wouldn’t reply, finally she replied, “well, Supergirl--”

“Kara.”

Lena’s gaze shot up in surprise. Kara opened her mouth shocked at herself, but she knew she could trust Lena.

“M-My name, is Kara.” She said softly, turning slightly away as she felt her cheeks warm. Lena nodded slowly.

“Well Kara,” Lena began voice softer, “I suppose, I’m interested because I simply want to know. You’re existence breaks all the laws of science, and as a scientist, I find that fascinating, and I have this desire to just know, to search, and learn.”

Kara watched enraptured as Lena’s usually tense features began to relax, and her green eyes lightened in excitement. The hero observed how she talked with her hands, and sometimes went off on tangents about various theories--and, not for the first time, Kara realized how beautiful Lena is.

“--and...what?”

“Hmm?”

Lena smiled baffled at her, “you’re staring at me with this...this look.”

“Oh..” Kara said softly, “I don’t know I was just thinking that you look so relaxed talking like this, and it’s…” exciting, beautiful, pure “..nice.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being such boring company until now,” Lena said lightly.

“No!” Kara yelled, then back tracked, “uh I mean, you were great--good, good company, perfect company I just um…” Kara looked down at her hands embarrassed, before the sound of laughter grabbed her attention.

“I’m sorry, I’m only teasing Kara.” Lena laughed.

“Right..” Kara said softly smiling back. The hero contemplated on this woman’s ability to leave her in a babbling mess, and she wished to get a hold of herself. After all, Lena wasn’t her friend.

Lena wasn’t going to stay.

None of it would last for ever.

One day she would end up alone.

“What are you thinking so intently about?”

Kara snapped herself out of her trance, trying to shake her dark feelings.

“Oh, nothing, it’s stupid.” She laughed running a hand through her hair, but she had trouble shaking the heavy feeling.

Lena didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t pry. “OK. Why don’t we move on to basic questions.”

“OK, what else do you want to know?”

They already had covered questions on Kara’s various abilities, followed by demonstrations, and Lena furiously writing, it felt like they had covered most of it.

“I want to move on to the more intricate details, for example origin and such.”

Kara nodded hesitantly.

“For starters, does Superman share your same need for blood?”

“Well, Kal--uh Superman, doesn’t need blood because he grew up on earth, although he has the teeth and abilities, he doesn’t...need, as much, so we’re a bit different because of that.”

“Different how?” Lena asked.

“Well…” Kara twiddled her thumbs, “life span wise, and stuff.” She said softly.

Lena paused in her writing for a moment, “you have an extended life span then?”

“Um,” Kara swallowed, “I’ll out live a normal human, definitely, but I’m not sure...I don’t know about Kal, only time will tell, we just speculate.” She shrugged, the dark feeling creeping up on her.

“That…” Lena hesitated, “that must be hard.”

“Sometimes.”

Lena looked at her intently, and seemed to debate on something, “I think that should be enough for today, you wanted to watch a movie?”

-------------

“I told you I would be fine.”

“I know, I just want to keep you company.”

Lena sighed as she took out her keys, their relationship had turned into a deep friendship, and Lena was now allowed to return to her own apartment. Kara had insisted on going with her.

She removed her key and began to push the door open.“Fine but I--” Soon she was cut off when Kara pulled her away from the door and against herself. Lena would have been highly aware of how close they were if not for the sounds of gun shots. She felt more than heard Kara cursing, the blond gently took Lena and guided her away from the opening.

“Wait here.”

Lena nodded and swallowed trying to calm her shaking hands. Grunts and smacks sounded and Lena closed her eyes, her heart was too loud, her breathing too out of control. A moment later she felt a presence at her side and started.

“Hey, it’s me it’s just me.” Kara whispered crouching down beside her, blue eyes still alight from her fight. “I’m going to call Alex to take a look at the place, for now let’s just go back.”

Lena nodded still trying to calm her racing heart, beginning to feel light headed. Kara looked at her worried before seeming to make some type of decision. Suddenly Lena was picked up, held strong in Kara’s arms.

“Ah--Hey! I can walk.” Lena said embarrassed.

“I know.”

“I...I don’t really like flying.”

“I know.” Kara replied, smiling softly at her, “don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Lena believed her.

----------

“Are you sure--yes...yes I know… of course I trust you..” Kara glanced behind her, phone to her ear checking on Lena, “it’s just--...yeah...OK, I’ll keep you updated. Bye.” She sighed and her stomach churned. With slight hesitation she made her way over to Lena.

“Hey, that was Alex.” She said softly. The brunette glanced up at her briefly. “She--we, know more about your attackers, um…” She fiddled nervously with her hands. “Oh Lena...I don’t know how to say this.”

Lena looked at her intently feeling dread sinking into her.

“Lex hired those men.” Kara whispered, as if any louder and the words would physically hurt Lena.

It was like a hole had opened up in her chest. Lex, her brother Lex, wanted her dead. All she could think is why?

“I shouldn’t be surprised--normal siblings argue, Luthors attempt to get each other killed.” Lena joked, ‘what am I even saying right now?’

“Lena...I’m so sorry.” Kara said.

“Don’t be. It doesn’t really matter.” ‘It hurts so much.’

“Don’t say that. Don’t play this off. Not with me.”

Lena didn’t reply, she felt like her throat was closing up.

Lena began to cry.

Kara surged forward and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’m just so tired of being alone.” Lena gasped in between sobs, “I have no one left, Lex was the only one--the only one there for me. The only one who cared.”

“You have me. You’ll always have me.” Kara reassured her. “I’ll never leave you alone, I know exactly how it feels.”

Lena remembered suddenly how Kara lost her family, and how with her long life, she could easily out live her loved ones. “I’m sorry you have to live like this.” Lena whispered to her lifting her head to look into cobalt eyes.

It might have been Kara’s hidden desires, or the way Lena’s green eyes sparkled with unshed tears, but for some reason Kara offered the unthinkable. “What if...what if there was a way for both of us to never be lonely again?”

Lena looked at her in confusion, “what do you mean?”

Kara suddenly felt sheepish; “well, there’s a way to...to well, turn, people to be like me.”

Lena gave a breathless laugh, “I guess you really are a vampire.”

Kara wrinkled her nose in response.

Lena smiled softly before turning back to the subject at hand, “would you...would you do that for me?”

“Yes.” Kara replied breathless, glancing down at Lena’s lips. “Yes I would.”

“OK,” Lena nodded gaze flickering, “OK.”

Kara leaned forward and captured her lips.

----

It wasn’t until a few weeks later Lena made her decision. If she were being honest with herself she had decided on that night, but she always gave her decisions time before finalizing.

“Are you sure?” Kara asked anxiously, excitement in her eyes.

“Yes.” Lena replied. “I want to spend all my life with you Kara Zor El.”

After that every motion was a blur, lost in heat. Lena felt herself being gently lowered to the couch, then Kara was kissing her again, her lips then trailing down her neck, giving extra attention to her pulse point. When her teeth sunk into her flesh it felt like fire, suddenly her blood was alight, and she wanted more. More of something, of that feeling. A strangled sound escaped her throat and she pulled Kara to her tighter. The blond licked at her neck, her movements gentle but sure. She eased herself out of Lena’s grip momentarily, to free her wrist. Lena watched as Kara bit into her own wrist taking a small mouthful of blood. Then the blond lowered and connected their mouths. The taste was sharp and metallic but changed to sweet, like a dessert wine, and Lena drank it. The feeling coursing through her could only be described as euphoric. Lena could barely contain herself, it was as if her soul had been touched. All through the change Kara whispered sweet words to her. Her mind went blank and she wrapped herself into Kara.

“It’s okay, I’ll protect you.” Kara whispered.

“I know.” Lena managed back.

The rest of the night they spent in bed together, exploring, taking their time, knowing they had close to an eternity together.

---------------

“Here we are.” Kara said hovering in the air.

Lena floated next to her, a little apprehensive, still not used to her new abilities. “Hmm, we first met in an alley like this you know? Pretty full circle.”

Kara laughed, “yeah I guess it is.” She smiled and stretched her hand out, “you ready?”

Lena smiled back. “Yes. I’m starving.”

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3one3 · 7 years

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The Sequel - 777

Stranger Things

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea players, and random awesome OC’s

(okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“Was it incredibly strange to have dinner with the family of the guy your wife dated while you were still married, or just a regular amount of strange?”

“It wasn’t as strange as I expected, to be fair. I think it was more uncomfortable for his girlfriend. His mom kept rubbing his friendship with Chris in her face, and then her own mom was talking about things, like...in a way to show that she thinks they should live together, I guess.”

“Did you want to go or did Chris make you?”

“I chose to go. I don’t have a lot of time with her.” And I wanted to see how the two of them interact these days, André added to his careful answer. Eden asked if he wanted to go, and he didn’t really answer that. He didn’t want to go. He volunteered to go to the Boxing Day dinner anyway.

“When is your house finished?” his Belgian friend asked. They were sitting in the indoor arena and watching Christina finish Kyle’s lesson. Yannis and Cornflakes were getting warmed up for theirs to follow.

“I don’t know. Maybe in a month. No one will work during the holidays. Everything stops. I want her to come live at the apartment as soon as the horse facilities are finished though. She doesn’t want to. She won’t say she doesn’t want to, but I know.”

“She doesn’t like it?”

“She likes it here.”

“Ahhhh. Say no more, my friend.”

The two players nodded without even looking at each other. André appreciated that Eden understood the situation with a minimal amount of explanation. It affirmed for him that his own thinking made sense. If someone else could see how his wife might use the apartment as an excuse not to have to leave her comfort zone, then he wasn’t grasping at straws to rationalize his instincts. The sheer anger in her voice as it filled the indoor arena made them both wince too. Their noses wrinkled and their eyes squinted in tandem.

“Where is your leg?” she asked Kyle, who was riding Calvin. “You’re asking a horse the size of a garbage truck to change direction in 10 feet. You can’t help him? You can’t give him a little support?” Her stance in the middle of the ring reflected her astonishment and anger about the rollback turn he performed between an oxer and a vertical, with one hand on her hip and the other palm open and questioning. “Yannis, earmuffs!” The other student in the ring put both reins in one hand and leaned over in his little saddle so that he could use both to cover his ears. “If you keep just trying to yank him the other way he’s going to fucking stop before you even get pointed in the other direction. How fucking hard is it to close your leg? Do it again and do it correctly or so help me-“

“I’ve got it,” Kyle assured, intimidated but not knocked down. Christina’s students knew they were in trouble when her incredulity pushed past sarcastically making fun of them to dropping F-bombs and calling on higher powers. They all had to learn that the right response to that was to be quiet and correct the problem, not get upset or defensive.

“Chris doesn’t have a lot of holiday cheer,” Eden observed in a whisper.

“She’s always like that when she teaches. Has she found another trainer for the boys yet? I try not to ask her about things related to leaving.” The German put his feet up on the top of the kickboard in front of him and used the leverage to lift the front legs of his chair up off the platform.

He’d been sitting there a while, first to watch his girl ride, and then the lesson. Lukas was cranky about everything imaginable at the house. His dad was happy to leave him with his grandparents and go hang out at the barn, hoping that they’d find some way to get him to nap away his petulance before he got back. Being cold in the ring and watching Christina work wasn’t exactly the most thrilling or satisfying way to spend an afternoon, but it was better than listening to screaming, literal toy throwing, and “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Papa, Daddy!”. Having Eden there for the latter half of the afternoon at least gave him someone to talk to. His girl was focused and serious and not much of a conversationalist in the saddle or the middle of the ring. Natasha joined the two players once Leo came in to warm up with his pony, and the three spectators discussed the kids and the upcoming New Year’s Eve festivities.

The Hazards booked a large corner at the all-windows Duck & Waffle, some 40ish floors up in the Heron Tower, to ring in the new year with friends over a 6-course tasting menu and the musical stylings of an “electro-swing” group. The theme of the night- for the whole restaurant, not just their part of the big party- was the Prohibition Era. It was time for the guys to play gangster again, but less seriously, and with more swing dancing. Christina accepted her and André’s invite without hesitation, because she wanted to dress and act like a flapper girl and drink vintage cocktails. She already ordered a cigarette holder on Amazon even though there would be no smoking in the restaurant. Some of the Chelsea squad would be there, and the ex-Blue was looking forward to hanging with his friends. And also a night out with his girl. She had more immediate designs on that.

“I’m so tiiiiireeeed,” she whined to him in her office after the lessons, hugging him but mostly just leaning on him and forcing him to hold her up. “Can we go out to eat? I don’t want leftovers, or to have to load the dishwasher. Do you know how many times I’ve had to run the dishwasher since you’ve been here? More importantly, do you know how many times I’ve had to unload the dishwasher? Let’s go somewhere. Just us. No parents and no baby. How about the pub in town? Pleeee-”

“Okay, okay, take a breath,” he said. “I’m convinced. You don’t have to keep selling.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Did you have your vitamins today?” André asked dubiously. “Why so tired?”

“Yes, I did. I’m tired because two guys got me horribly drunk in the Jacuzzi last night and I didn’t get to bed until 2:30. Do you know them?” Christina turned to look up at him from the middle of his chest, rubbing her chin across the zipper of his jacket because it got itchy as her skin thawed from being outside. There was a scruffy chin above, and then a smile, and then pretty cobalt blue eyes.

“Yeah, but I think just one of them got you drunk, and it was the one that wasn’t me.”

“You just watched, eh?”

“Well it was entertaining. I’m supposed to turn down cheap entertainment?”

“Yes. Gimme kiss.” The rider puckered her lips and closed her eyes to wait for a smooch. Her head still kind of hurt from the hot tub martinis that Rafa fed her after the dinner at Juan’s. Melanie was already asleep when she and André got back, but the Italian was wide awake and enjoying a drink, as usual. André invited him to the hot tub once he realized he wouldn’t be able to seduce Christina in there with him around anyway. The two riders shared some of the horse show circuit gossip, which the footballer found interesting. They knew about love affairs, scams, business deals gone bad, scandalous sales, etc.. There was a whole soap opera unfolding behind the in-gate. The world #1 became more gossipy with each sip of her two martinis.

That ranking was on her mind the next day as she went about her work. It partially prevented her from being very entertaining for André while he hung around. The Longines computer list would be updated in about a week’s time, and Christina would lose her spot at the top. It wouldn’t be a great way to start the new year, and she was unhappy about it. She was unhappy with herself for saying or even thinking of things like “I’m looking for an excuse not to” ride again, or to extend her little break. She wanted to focus and get her horses so well prepared that it wouldn’t matter how she was feeling at a show because they’d be too good to be affected. She wanted to get Nick back in shape so that she had another reliable horse to call on.

“You want to shower and change first or go now?” André asked after obliging with the kiss. He tried to reach into the arm holes of her down vest to rub her back but there wasn’t a lot of room in there with her track jacket underneath.

“Can we go now? I’ll just keep my hat on.” Her hand self-consciously reached for her knit beanie, which was hiding her greasy scalp.

“Sure. Take the boots off though, at least. Should we invite Eden and them, or nah?”

“Nah. Then we have to wait for them to put a big table together, and extra people take longer to decide what to have, and the kids are gonna make noise.” Christina really did hate complications. The most streamlined plan was the most attractive. It went along with the primary colors and straight lines concept her partner had been thinking about recently in the context of her choices. “Just you and me,” she concluded in a sweet voice before letting go to unzip her boots.

“I know you’ll miss them, but at least once you move you have two less kids to teach all the time, yeah?” André leaned on her desk and glanced at the big calendar with all the lessons and appointments and ship dates.

“Ehh it’s not like they take up a ton of time. It takes me an hour and a half to do the both of them and they only have lessons a couple of times a week,” the trainer shrugged. Fudge it’s cold, she thought as soon as her foot was free of the right boot. Her leg was kind of sweaty from wearing them all day, so it didn’t matter that it was fairly warm in the office. Fresh air and sweaty boot sock always resulted in shivers. That was a comfortingly familiar sensation for her though- one she’d experienced a million times in her life, just like the wonderfully cool feeling of sliding a boot off in summer, peeling the knee-high stocking down, undoing the Velcro cuff at the bottom of the breeches, and pulling them halfway up her calf before slipping into flip-flops. In winter it was running shoes and the socks stayed on. “I’m gonna have the new horse to take up the time anyway.”

“What new horse?”

“The Cartegena horse, from Stephex,” she answered absently, intent on fixing the tongue of her sneaker, which was bunched up below the laces.

“You never said anything about taking him on,” André said, his intonation level but his face confused, and maybe even angry when she looked up. Christina was confused too.

“Yes I did. Remember I said I talked to Stephan about bringing him over once I’m in the new place since I don’t have room here? I’m going to show him in big stuff and Kyle is going to show him in...less-big stuff. He’s not too tall for a tiny horse.”

“The only conversation we had about the horse in Belgium was when you got to Dortmund that night and said he was nice and that he was afraid of the poofy fur thing on the top of your hat.”

“How do you not remember this? I talked to you right after I got off the phone with-“ Oops. No I didn’t. That was totally Juan, the rider realized, feeling rather dumb and also quite guilty for mixing up the two. I’m a moron. An insensitive one, at that. “Okay maybe not,” she conceded. “I thought I told you. After I talked to Stephan I was like “Oh, call Schü and tell him the good news”, but then Juan called and-“

“And you can’t remember the difference between me and him? Really?” André folded his arms and crossed one foot over the other. His countenance was the picture of disgust.

“No I- I guess in my mind I had just ticked the box already, and I honestly haven’t thought a single second about it since then. I told Stephan I’d have Tim get in touch with him about a contract when I know when I can take him, in case they find a better solution for him in the mean time. I’m sorry,” Christina replied earnestly while putting her other shoe on. “It’s really not a big deal though. I’m not going to any extra shows for him or anything. I mostly agreed just to get something else for Kyle to show. He does so well with Calvin and I was fine with them doing low stuff but I don’t like the idea of green rider showing green horse in the big leagues, and Cal is definitely still green. This horse has plenty of experience up to just below the top, so he should be okay there.

“Why don’t you tell my anything anymore?” the player asked very frankly. Nothing. She tells me nothing. She had some kind of serious panic attack about the horse show and not only did she not call me while it was happening, she didn’t even tell me about it until a week later. She doesn’t tell me we’re getting another horse. She only mentioned that she’s going to Spain with Juan to visit sick kids when we were on the way to his place, probably because she just realized he could mention it. She still hasn’t said anything about her thigh being completely better and her ankle hurting less. I wouldn’t know if I didn’t work out with her this morning. He was passive aggressive inside and out, but he was also hurt. It didn’t feel good to learn things about his girl by accident, or after everyone else. It didn’t feel good to learn that he wasn’t the person she wanted to share everything with right away.

“I do.” She didn’t put up a very fervent defense.

“Yeah. Right. Okay.”

“Babe.”

“What? I can’t be annoyed that you don’t talk to me about your life?”

“I mean, to be honest, I would prefer you were a lot more than annoyed if that were true, but it’s not. I talk to you.” I understand I made a boo-boo here but it’s not part of a grand scheme to cut him out of things. Christina resented the implication that she didn’t communicate, and really resented the passive aggressiveness. If I ever really did cut him out, he should be sad about it. Not...whatever this is.

“Not like you used to.”

“Well I used to see you every day, and we used to go to bed at the same time every day because we didn’t live in different time zones.”

“Don’t get smug with me, pretty girl,” he warned. There was a real fight brewing and he was only half-heartedly interested in heading it off. The facts of the case and her attitude about it made part of him welcome an argument and opportunity to air his grievances in a satisfyingly vitriolic way. That was what happened. That was how their relationship got so tetchy throughout the Fall. André got so fed up with what she did and how she did it that he needed an outlet and there was like a filter on it that turned everything that came out into something harsh, cutting, and unkind. It was the only thing that made him feel better, because he couldn’t do anything about the frustration, the disappointment, and the isolation. Indulging the anger part was all he had available to him.

“Can we just drop this a go eat?” his wife sighed. As usual, she lacked the appetite for the fight. A little fire still burned inside of her, keeping her willfulness and abundance of confidence in her ability to argue alive, but it was just a flicker. There was just enough to engage in the beginning- to dip her toe into the row and test it out- and not enough to drive her to pursue a victory, or even an extended standoff. Christina just sought the most painless and speedy conclusion. In the past, André’s being more interested in having her tell him things so that he would know she wanted to tell him things than he was in actually knowing and understanding the things would have really angered her and been something perfect to latch onto and use to beat him. The former was about ego, and the latter was about closeness. She would have slaughtered him for the significance of that. In a way, her learned unwillingness to fight fed the beast. Her partner thought he was winning all the time, and that his feelings were justified. Her forfeiture meant he never had pause or cause to reconsider.

They got past the newest little drama in due course. First there was a silent car ride, and then a cagey period in which soup was eaten and some small talk happened, and then by the time her chicken kebobs, rice, and peas and his baked salmon salad were served, normal conversation had resumed. Tensions were over. Everything was fine. Christina did bedtime for Lukas when they got home, and then took a shower, and she seemed happy enough to be around her husband. So it surprised him when she then announced her intention to spend a while in the study to “work”. He asked her what sort of work she meant, and she explained that she wanted to look at the FEI calendar for the coming months and also update her condition book with training and fitness notes for the horses. The door was shut so that she could play music without disturbing the rest of the family watching TV, though she kept the volume so low nobody would have heard it in the foyer let alone across it in the living room.

Her artist of choice was Einaudi. His contemporary classical music was the best for “working” usually. It didn’t distract her. It was unlikely to manipulate her mood. It was just helpful background noise to block the silence that would distract her. But it did steal her attention away, or she subconsciously wanted it to and let it. And it did alter her mood a bit. She caught herself staring into space three times before concluding that her heart wasn’t in writing in the notebook. It wasn’t in anything. There was nothing gripping enough to focus her mind- not the notes and the horses, not the small fight with André, not the issue at the core of the fight, not her conflicted heart, not the Longines ranking. Christina just zoned out and followed the music at times powerful, moving, emotional, compelling, or just plain beautiful. The composer was a bit of a disappointment to her when they met. As a person, he wasn’t all that interesting or significant. They didn’t get a chance to work together much. He did his thing for the video shoot and she did hers. He did guarantee her VIP treatment at any of his shows though, and naturally she planned to use the invite with Juan. They just never made an actual plan. After looking through the window between the two bookcases for 10 minutes, at nothing but darkness outside, she swiveled in her chair some and typed his name into Chrome on her new computer to find his tour schedule. He was headed Down Under until April, when he’d play one sold out show in Zurich and another in Tokyo preceding a month long break. The tour resumed in Berlin, and he’d play back-to-back nights in London in June. Wedged right in between Germany and England was a concert in Switzerland, in Locarno, the picturesque little town on Lake Maggiore where Christina and André got married.

The venue listed was “Piazza Grande”, and the rider began to feel excitement, picturing a big outdoor event like those André Rieu concerts she watched with her dad on TV. She went back to Google to look it up, images in her head of a square lined in cafes with cute little tables and candles, full to the brim with happy people enjoying Einaudi’s wonderful and moving music with their bottles of wine, the experience enhanced by the scale on which it was shared. The World Cup winner covered her mouth when the pictures of Piazza Grande appeared on the screen. Not only was it a square just like she imagined, but it was one with buildings in a rainbow of colors. Mint green, soft yellow, salmon, canary, peach fuzz, white, baby blue- each three or four storey building was a different color, and each one had lots of windows, and each window had a little balcony, and beyond them were the mountains she explored with André in a top-down Jaguar during their honeymoon. The setting was absolutely perfect except for one thing. The date she could see there with her for the magically romantic evening was Juan.

“I have to tell you about something and I want you to give me your honest analysis,” she explained to the Spaniard when he picked up her call. “Your feedback. Everything you think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” he laughed. His ex-girlfriend hadn’t given any kind of context for her call yet, but she made her urgency known. She felt like there was some kind of fate situation presenting itself and it alarmed and excited her in equal measures.

“I looked up Einaudi’s tour dates just now to see when we could go, and he’s doing a concert in the big plaza in Locarno at the beginning of the summer. It’s the kind with all different color buildings around it, and paving stones, and outdoor cafes with awnings. You remember Locarno, right? Where I got married?”

“Yes. I remember the plaza.”

“I think I only drove near it. We didn’t leave the lake much. But anyway, I’m looking at these pictures of this beautiful, quintessentially European town square next to the most beautiful Italian and Swiss lake, and I’m imagining “Primavera” and “Divenire” happening for thousands of people in folding chairs and hundreds more at beat up wooden tables in front of the awnings and under the kind of starscape you get out there away from big cities, and I want to be there...with you. I think it would be amazing, in the strictest sense of the word and not in the casual way I throw it around. It would be amazing. I want to go. But I have so many terrible feelings about it. How can I want to go have that amazing night with someone who isn’t André in the place where we got married? How can I want you to go there with me when I know it’s just a reminder for you of how hard that day must have been for you, and the persisting reality of what happened that day? Am I a sadist and a masochist and a generally inconsiderate person? What does it mean? What does it meeeeeeean, Juanin?”

“Okay, to start, if you want someone to give you an actual critique of your thoughts then you really should see a therapist, cariña,” the Chelsea man told her with an obvious smile. “Then at least you get an impartial one. If you ask me what I think, you always have to consider that I answer with my own interests in mind, sí? Then you have to analyze what I said about what you said. How confusing! But in this case, I don’t think you need to be as panicked as you sound. It’s normal to want to go to the concert with me. You and I love the music together, and André doesn’t like it. As you said once before, you and I experience it the same way, so it’s better together. I don’t think it matters that you got married a few kilometers from there, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with having “amazing” nights with people other than André. Amazing nights with friends are not against the law, that I know of. Almost nothing is against the law in Switzerland, so...”

“That is patently untrue. Motor racing is against the law in Switzerland, and I think I read that keeping one pet is illegal. If you want a cat, you have to get two. If you want a gerbil, you need more than one. I think there are different minimums for each type. And this is to prevent loneliness, not anything to do with making more business for pet stores.”

“Where did you read that?”

“The Internet.”

“Then it must be true.”

“Shut up! The racing thing is real. I know for sure. The only area in Switzerland where nothing is illegal is banking.”

“Let me know if you find anything on the Internet about it being illegal to go to a concert with a friend.”

“You’re not helping. I have serious conflicts here. I have serious feelings that I don’t know how to feel about.” How does he not see how significant a thing it is that I want to do this thing, that I know how wrong it is because of context and everything, and that I still want to do it? Surely there is meaning in there, Christina whined to herself as her “friend” chuckled at her over the phone. She held it to her ear with the help of her shoulder and used both hands on the armrests to lift her butt off the chair so that she could fold her legs under, and the leather squeaked as it detached from her bare thighs.

“So stop having them,” Juan suggested. “Stop looking for great meaning in everything. Just do what you want,” he yawned. “No reason to get hysterical because you have feelings about the absence of feelings, or the disregard of feelings, or whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

“Are you typing something? I hear typing. You’re so Googling the pet thing.” The equestrian star with the star-print shorts did want to be taken seriously, but she also saw some sense in his point. That in itself upset her too. She didn’t like flying off the handle over the littlest things so much recently. She got panicky over things that didn’t require panic, and it escalated so quickly whether it was getting dressed for the horse show, seeing him kiss Taylor, or thinking about the eternal purgatory she believed she could be caught in between him and her husband.

“I’m looking up the weather. My cousins want to sightsee tomorrow since I have off.”

“Oh. Fun.”

“What are some good sights to see with kids?”

“Aw, you ask me that like I’m one of those experienced moms who knows what she’s doing,” Christina chuckled sarcastically. “I have no idea. The aquarium? Big Ben? The LEGO place?”

“I didn’t ask because you’re a mother. I asked because you’re a child.”

“You’re a child.”

“Okay.”

“You haven’t provided any help at all,” she told him, contrite and disappointed. He’s supposed to translate my mental tornado into like one easily digestible sentence that makes it easy to understand and mitigate. What is this nonsense?

“Do you want me to tell you that what you’re envisioning for the concert is a romantic date and it means you should leave him and be with me? Are we in some opposite world now where when I say that to you it doesn’t just upset you and make your life more difficult? I don’t understand what you want, Chris. You say to stop that, and even I said I shouldn’t do that because it’s so hard for you. Now you look at things the same way and you want me to say it? To confirm what it means? I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to say it’s nothing.” The Spaniard sounded disappointed too, and obviously a little frustrated. Mostly he sounded like a person who felt boxed in and could do no right, which was slightly comforting to Christina’s ears solely because she was so used to feeling that way herself and to have someone demonstrate real empathy made her feel like someone actually understood.

“I just want you to say what you really think it means, not what you think I want or need to near.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“It does to me.”

“No it doesn’t. I tell you, you get upset about it for a while, and then you ignore it. Always. It’s always the same, cariña. I don’t feel like doing this tonight,” the player sighed. His friend could tell he wasn’t just trying to get her off the phone, or just tired from the busy schedule. He was asking her not to make him take her through the evidence that supported his belief that she really wanted to be with him. He pointed out that each time he did that- like when he asked her to examine why she was willing to sleep with him even when she knew it hurt André- she experienced a major crisis of confidence, retreated from her relationships with both midfielders, and then ultimately decided she couldn’t decide and should just stick with what she had. Christina knew the process was unfair to him, unfair to her husband, and ravaging on herself. Putting off a decision indefinitely wasn’t so great on her wellbeing either, nor particularly satisfying for either of the guys, but it was at least more peaceful and manageable. Juan was evidently tired of being put through it all only to “lose” again in the end when the love of his life failed to summon the conviction or enough courage to make the change he thought she truly wanted.

“I’m sorry,” the rider told him quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said. Then Christina didn’t know what else to say. She understood what he didn’t feel like talking about and she understood why, and it made her feel guilty. She knew he didn’t want to hear about that either. She knew he must be tired of her pity and regret. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? We’re thinking about bowling before everybody leaves. Maybe you want to come.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, cariña. Te quiero.”

She went back to staring out the window, not really thinking anything. Only the need to pee brought her out of the idle trance. And then she wanted something sweet to nibble on.

“What do you have, Prinzessin?” André inquired when Christina turned up at the sofa with two small bowls. He didn’t even hear her emerge from the study or do anything in the kitchen, but then he and his parents watched TV with the volume quite high and he was close to falling asleep.

“Fruit.” His wife offered one bowl across the couch to her in-laws, and plopped next to him with the other. She had mango chunks for him in half the bowl and sliced strawberries for herself. “Want some?” He pinched a piece of mango and sat up some to eat it, and to make her usual spot under his arm available to her if she wanted it. She immediately leaned over on him and folded her legs up so they’d fit under his blanket.

“Did you get your work done?” André asked, kissing her head as she got settled and the two Toy Fox terriers got settled around her. They didn’t fail to notice there was something happening in the kitchen with food before.

“I don’t feel like doing it. I just want to sit with you.”

What discouraging realization has she made about her schedule or her horses that has her in quiet-no-eye-contact-desperate-to-cuddle mode, he questioned.

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