#maybe it’s the mental illness but boy howdy do i feel like an outsider | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

birdship · 3 years

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Leave It In The Sun: Chapter One (a Disco Elysium fanfic)

Warnings: Full game spoilers, eventual spicy scenes, basically the level of adult content in the game itself.

General summary: A slow(ish) burn exploration of life at Precinct 41 after Harry and Kim wrap up the case and Kim makes the move to Jamrock. Mainly just about how Harry and Kim's relationship might develop, and a sort of character study of some of the employees of Precinct 41 in general.

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Chapter one summary: Two difficult weeks after leaving Martinaise, Harry finally reaches out to Kim. Chapter length: Approx. 4.3k words

The sun is only just setting over the streets of Jamrock, drenched in rain and neon. The city stops to catch its breath in the intermission between day and night.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: And so do you. You could’ve sworn the nearest payphone was, y’know, nearer than this. Maybe that bone-shattering gunshot wound also isn’t quite as far along in the healing process as you thought either.

PAIN THRESHOLD: Brilliant claws of pain rake down your thigh as you lean against the payphone and try to center yourself.

You glance at the phone resting in its cradle, with some trepidation. Phone calls are always a bit… difficult for you. Especially these days.

SUGGESTION: You can still change your mind.

VOLITION: No. You came here for a reason.

SUGGESTION: Or… you could always just call her instead.

VOLITION: *Focus.*

You take a deep breath. The late spring air is turning chilly in the slowly setting sun. The rain drizzles lazily as it has all day, showing no sign of stopping. A handful of people are still--or already--out wandering downtown Jamrock, laughing and talking and hurrying home and running errands and entirely focused on just about anything in the world *besides* a washed up middle-aged man having a minor anxiety attack and moderate-to-severe hip pain next to a public phone at 6:04pm in the rain.

INLAND EMPIRE: The loneliness knocks the wind out of you. You thought you were used to it by now. It’s worse outside, around people.

DRAMA: The threadbare costume you created for yourself in the privacy of your dark, trash-strewn apartment doesn’t seem quite as convincing with an audience.

VOLITION: Stop the goddamn pity party and pick up the phone already.

The receiver is light in your hand as you fumble for change and the crumpled slip of paper you’ve had in your jeans pocket for the last two weeks or so. You slowly, deliberately dial the phone number written on it, as if some part of you is afraid that your fingers might just automatically fall into the patterns of *her* number instead.

VOLITION: They might. But you’re done hurting yourself.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Well, maybe not entirely. Yet. But you’re done hurting yourself *with her* for sure.

INLAND EMPIRE: You still feel like you deserve that pain. But it’s wrong to keep using her as the knife you gut yourself with. She deserves better, even if you might not.

LOGIC: In any case, this isn’t about her. It’s about you, and it’s about--

“Hello?” Kim’s voice is muffled and tinny through the old, worn copper wiring. He sounds tired, but you guess that’s not particularly surprising. You’ve been pretty damn tired too.

“Kim, hey, it’s uh, it’s me,” you reply awkwardly.

“Harry? Do you need something?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: This is the first time you’ve called him since leaving Martinaise, despite carrying that little piece of paper around for the last two weeks. He’s thinking, why now?

“Yeah, no, I just happened to be downtown this evening,” you ramble, “and I thought--”

“You’re drunk,” he says. It is completely without judgment. A stated fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Harry Du Bois is drunk. “Where are you exactly? I’ll--”

“Wait, no!” you exclaim, a little too loudly. A nearby pigeon makes a mad dash in the opposite direction at the sound. “That’s not it! I swear I’m basically sober right now. Mostly.”

A long pause on the other end. “Alright,” he says plainly. “So what can I do for you?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Make no mistake, he’s picking his battles here and gingerly stepping *around* that “mostly.”

EMPATHY: He’s just relieved it’s even that much.

COMPOSURE: How embarrassing.

VOLITION: Just start over. Your first sentence was garbage, but you know you’re under no obligation to continue it, right?

You take a deep breath, then try again.

“Well, it’s really more about what *I* can do for *you*,” you say as smoothly as possible. “You know that big motor carriage exhibition in town? It just so happens I’ve got *two tickets* to it.”

Another long pause. “You mean the one that ends today?”

“Yes,” you confirm.

“And are you aware that it is currently around six o’clock in the evening?”

“Is it? I mean, yes. Yes it is,” you say confidently. “I am aware of the passage of time.”

“And you waited until now to do this?” he asks.

EMPATHY: He sounds more amused than annoyed, though you definitely detect a bit of both.

“Uh,” you falter. “Look, it’s open until 8:00, so do you want to fucking go or not?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: About half a kilometer away, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi is sitting in the kitchen of his new apartment, already in his pajamas and winding down for the evening. It’s a bit early for that, but he figures he should take the opportunity to rest before he tackles that mountain of backlogged cases he was promised upon making the move to precinct 41.

Two weeks ago, he said goodbye to the strangest man he’d ever met. A man he found himself inexplicably drawn to in the week they spent together, and whom he thought about every day since. Wondering if he would take the lifeline Kim tried to throw to him, or if that little slip of paper would just end up forgotten at the bottom of a vomit-soaked trash can in some shitty bar. Wondering if the dawning trauma of everything that happened in Martinaise and the restlessness from sitting at home recovering from its aftermath would combine to pull him down into a dark place beyond Kim’s reach for good. Wondering and wondering to fill the silence. And now finally the silence is broken, but whatever this cry for help is, it is not the one Kim ever expected to receive.

But he knows one thing for sure: it *is* a cry for help.

“Alright,” Kim says finally. He takes a sharp breath. “Sounds good.”

The walk to his apartment takes a bit longer than you expected. It’s not that far from the downtown payphone, but you still wasted a good 20 minutes on the journey.

ENDURANCE: You are expecting too much of yourself too soon.

INLAND EMPIRE: It’s always one or the other with you, isn’t it? Too much or not enough.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT: Twenty minutes to walk a few blocks? Fucking pathetic. What kind of cop are you? Hell, what kind of *gym teacher* are you? Man up.

ENDURANCE: No. It’s a miracle that you’re still standing at all.

PERCEPTION: Beyond the apartment door, you can hear footsteps and soft humming.

You knock, and the door opens almost immediately.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Shit. You were hoping you’d have a few spare seconds to think of something really cool to say.

REACTION SPEED: C’mon, say something fun and upbeat to prove you’re not a depressed sack of shit who’s been spending the past two weeks drinking alone in the dark.

DRAMA: Showtime!

“Howdy, pardner,” you hear yourself say.

SAVOIR FAIRE: Finger guns! For god’s sake, don’t forget the finger guns. Without them, you just look like a goddamn lunatic.

You do the finger guns.

Kim does not seem particularly impressed as he slowly looks from your outstretched gun fingers to the twisted grimace that now wracks your face.

“Please, holster those things before coming inside,” he says humorlessly.

You blow the pretend, metaphorical smoke from each of your hot weapons before stuffing your hands in your pockets. As you do this, he watches with an appraising look.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He’s wondering if this is *regular* weird or *drunken breakdown* weird. However, he is intimately familiar with your brand of stupid bullshit at this point and it doesn’t take long for him to place it in the former category.

“We should hit the road soon,” you comment as you peek curiously into his apartment.

“Hit the road,” Kim repeats with mild amusement, “in what?”

LOGIC: Oh. Right. The Kineema is property of Precinct 57. Not Kim Kitsuragi personally.

“Shit, yeah,” you concede. “But hey, if we call a taxi now--”

LOGIC: You’ll arrive just in time to immediately turn around and go home.

HALF LIGHT: You fucked up. You’re a fuck-up. Great job, idiot.

VOLITION: Try not drinking and blacking out all day next time.

LOGIC: Yes, but then…

“Fuck,” you inhale. “Fuckady-fuck-fuck. Shit. Goddammit.”

Kim waits patiently for you to catch up. You’re almost there.

“I should’ve called earlier, sorry,” you apologize. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

LOGIC: What is wrong with you is that you drank all last night, slept off a hangover most of the day today, and woke up in a daze about 45 minutes ago. But what’s done is done. No point in bringing that up now, right?

“Nor do I,” says the lieutenant with a small smile. “But whatever it is, I am no longer surprised by it, I assure you.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you repeat, leaning on the door frame pathetically, a congealed ooze of mental illness and embarrassment. “Sorry for bothering you in the first place. You’re always so nice to me, even when I’m a pain in the ass.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Which is to say *constantly.*

Kim says nothing. Just sighs almost imperceptibly.

EMPATHY: Your self deprecation is frustrating for him, and he does not know how to respond to it constructively and compassionately.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He *does* think you’re a pain in the ass sometimes, but a pain worth dealing with.

INLAND EMPIRE: For reasons beyond your understanding.

“Why did you agree to go in the first place?” you sigh. “You’ve got a brain that actually works, you knew it wasn’t gonna happen. If you’re trying to make fun of me, then, well…”

You pause.

“That’s just fine, I guess. Good job, carry on.”

He adjusts his glasses and looks away. “I appreciated the intention,” he says finally, in a measured voice. “And since I hadn’t heard from you the past couple weeks…”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: ...He was afraid you wouldn’t bother trying again.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’ve been kind of busy. You know how it goes after cases like that.”

“I do,” he says. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, “you’re welcome to come in if you like.”

You hobble into Kim’s sparse kitchen and collapse on a dining room chair. It creaks ominously under the velocity of the assault.

“I’m glad we have an opportunity to catch up,” he says politely, pulling up the other chair and gazing at your pained expression from across the table. “Your injury is healing well, I assume?”

EMPATHY: It is obvious that he does not in fact assume this at all.

You shrug, still trying to get a hold of yourself and push back the ache swirling at the edges of your mind.

He watches you struggle for a moment, then gently says, “it will take time to heal, but it *will* heal.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: *So please be patient and kind to yourself,* is the silent plea left unsaid. It hangs in the air pitifully. You both know it’s there.

“Time hasn’t exactly been a good salve for me in general,” you mumble.

He’s silent for a while. Opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again.

“Harry,” he says finally. “What happened in Martinaise is not your burden to carry alone.”

“I thought you didn’t like *personal issues*, lieutenant,” you say.

“I don’t,” he says with a frown, “but this…”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: This is about me too, he thinks. As much as he hates to admit it. He doesn’t particularly like his *own* personal issues either. But the past two weeks were hard for him, and you didn’t make them any easier.

EMPATHY: He was worried about you, and--although he will never admit it to himself, let alone you--there’s a part of him that selfishly hoped you were worried about him too. At least a little.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He’s used to this line of work, and so are you despite the holes in your memory, but it never gets any easier to deal with some things.

EMPATHY: There was so much death that day. It haunts you. And now as you sit in Kim’s kitchen, the alcohol slowly filtering from your blood and leaving behind the dregs of a headache, you realize it still haunts him too. You both added perforations you never wanted to make.

ENDURANCE: It’s too much. Your head swims and your entire body aches in the throes of repressed grief fighting its way to the surface of a sea of quickly evaporating Commodore Red.

INLAND EMPIRE: Warning! Trauma containment center has been breached! Evacuate the area immediately!

HALF LIGHT: You’re going to cry, aren’t you? You’re going to fucking cry. Right here in his kitchen. Why can’t you keep your shit together for more than five minutes straight?

You are entirely unable to keep the tears from rolling silently down your cheeks, unbidden.

INLAND EMPIRE: You don’t have it in you to really cry properly, like a normal fucking person. Not anymore. Something has disconnected the wire from your “press here to begin sobbing during your emotional breakdown” button, and you’re not sure what or when.

ENDURANCE: But human beings *cry.* And despite everything inside you that’s broken and rotting, you *are* a human being. You can’t not be.

Kim’s standing next to you now, his hand resting comfortingly on your shoulder. He doesn’t say anything.

EMPATHY: That’s the point of this whole shoulder-touching business in the first place--your disconcertingly unhinged behavior has left him at a loss for words, yet compelled to offer *something.*

This goes on for the longest five minutes or so the world has ever seen. But finally, you’ve wrung it all out of yourself and the tears stop almost as abruptly as they began. His hand gives your shoulder a squeeze, then he sits back down in the chair opposite you, avoiding your eyes. He rummages in his pocket for something, then hands you a blue handkerchief.

“Where the hell do you keep all these?” you mumble as you reach for it. “Fuckin’... infinite handkerchiefs around here.”

“What can I say? I like to be prepared,” he says.

“For drunk idiots who throw up all over crime scenes and have mental breakdowns in your home?”

“Usually to clean my glasses,” he says flatly. “But at this point, I suppose it *is* fair to say that it’s also for your various crises as well.”

“Well, thank God one of us is prepared,” you say. “What would I do without you, Kim?”

He hesitates, a strange wistful expression tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know. What *did* you do the past two weeks?”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t… That’s none of my concern,” he says quickly.

AUTHORITY: Who the hell does he think he is? You’re not a child who needs to be minded. You’re a grown-ass man who can sit alone in his apartment and get wasted if he fucking wants to. Assert yourself!

“Honestly? Drink, mostly,” you say with a self-conscious chuckle.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He just stares at you with the bleakest expression you’ve ever seen cross his face.

EMPATHY: He’s so tired. So frustrated. So disappointed.

INLAND EMPIRE: Oh God! He’s *disappointed* in you? This is terrible. Anything but that, please!

“I thought I was doing better,” you say quietly. “Guess not.”

“You were,” Kim says kindly.

INLAND EMPIRE: Tequila Sunset hasn’t happened yet. Maybe it still will. Maybe it’s inevitable. Maybe when you took up that mantle, it was like some sort of alcoholic event horizon. Tequila Sunset is the only way it was ever going to end. What other force in the universe could begin to exert as much gravitational pull over you?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: From the void we came, to the void we must return.

“Listen,” Kim tells you, “this is not surprising. It’s got to be harder now that you’re back in Jamrock.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: It’s *easy,* baby. All your old favorite haunts are here. You know all the cheapest bars, the sketchiest parts of town with the purest amphetamines… You can’t remember the names of half of them anymore, but the muscles in your legs can trace the steps there perfectly. That shit’s burned into your body forever.

“Yeah.” You swallow hard. “Anyway, what about you? How’s Jamrock treating you?”

EMPATHY: The darkness clouding his expression lightens a bit.

“Good so far,” he says. “I’ve actually only been here for a few days. G.R.I.H. wrap-up took longer than I expected.” He pauses and looks out the window. “But I’m glad to be here now.”

“Really,” you say with a laugh. “In this shithole?”

“It has its perks,” he says. “I’m looking forward to beginning work at Precinct 41.”

“You’re not working solo, are you?”

“For right now, yes I am,” he replies. “I’m fine with that. I’ve done it before.”

INLAND EMPIRE: The idea of sharing a workplace with him and yet not being at his side when he needs you… it makes you feel cold, lonely, somehow.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: You have a duty to Jean. Jean is your partner.

SUGGESTION: Fuck it, just say it. You know what you want to say. Say it and get it over with.

“You should work with me,” you blurt out. “We were such a good team in Martinaise. We could keep those good times rolling!”

“I’m flattered, but,” he says, turning his head. “Satellite-Officer Vicquemare…”

“Doesn’t give a shit about me,” you say. “Fuck him.”

EMPATHY: That’s not exactly true. You know it’s not.

INLAND EMPIRE: But the truth is complicated. It’s easier to just boil it down to *fuck that guy.*

LOGIC: Jean is bad for you, and you’re bad for him. Or, you used to be. And has anything really changed? Are you really any different? Maybe it was just the change of scenery that fooled you into thinking otherwise.

INLAND EMPIRE: Same old Jamrock. Same old coworkers. Same old bad habits. Same old *you.*

“I’m not so sure about that,” Kim says delicately.

“Forget about him,” you push, suddenly more serious about this than you intended to be. “I can arrange this shit with Captain Pryce, and I can deal with Jean.”

“I… uh,” he coughs. “I don’t know what to say.”

DRAMA: You’re in control of this show now. Pull an honest answer out of him.

You point at him and narrow your eyes. “I know what you should say: what you *feel* in your *heart*!” You pound one fist against your chest over your heart to drive home the point, then wince.

PAIN THRESHOLD: Please don’t do that.

You break the dramatic pose and lean back in your chair again with a shrug. “Or just tell me to fuck off. None of this wishy-washy noncommittal shit, though.”

He’s silent for a long time, watching and listening to the rain as it picks up outside. Then finally he gives you an apologetic smile and speaks.

“Harry,” he says kindly. “Fuck off.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Translation: maybe. But not now.

EMPATHY: He’s not angry, he’s deflecting. This is by far the nicest way you’ve ever been told to fuck off. Don’t take it too hard.

“Alright, alright,” you say. “Forget I said anything.”

You spend a while just making smalltalk at Kim’s kitchen table. None of it means anything, but it’s nice. It’s a nice, good, human thing to do, sitting and chatting with him. Makes your “regular well-adjusted person” costume fit a little better. The rain begins to let up a little in the fading sunset.

“You know, we could do something else if you like,” he says brightly. “Here in Jamrock, I mean.”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Yeah. Lots of stuff to do in Jamrock. Like speed and hard liquor. Or crying in the bathroom of a dive bar because you’re too fucked up on speed and liquor.

SUGGESTION: He probably wouldn’t go for that.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: There’s got to be somewhere else to go. Something else to do with him. Think. What do you want to do with him?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: Oh buddy, are you sure you’re ready to open that can of worms?

The lieutenant watches you as you rub your temples in an effort to massage the awkward thoughts out of your terrible brain. Then he says, “you know what, don’t worry about it. It’s fine, we can just stay here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say. “Sounds good.”

“I’m going out on the balcony for a cigarette,” he informs you. “You can--”

“I’ll come with you,” you interrupt.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: He pauses, wondering how many you might’ve had already. Then again cigarettes are, shockingly, by far the *least* detrimental of your *many* vices.

The two of you step out onto the lieutenant’s rather small balcony. It’s still raining very lightly, but this is probably as good as the weather is going to get tonight. Good enough. There’s really not quite enough space for two adult men to comfortably lounge around out here, though. You try to make yourself as small as possible as you fumble in your pockets for a cigarette and lighter.

PERCEPTION: You hear the soft click of a lighter and smell smoke on the gentle evening breeze drifting over from your left.

“Fuck,” you grumble. “I forgot my light--”

You realize Kim is holding out his own lighter wordlessly, still gazing out at the city sprawling out below.

“Thanks,” you say.

He nods. He pockets the lighter again once you’re done with it, then leans on the railing and exhales smoke with a sigh.

ESPRIT DE CORPS: Outwardly, he is silent and pensive. He almost seems anxious in a way. But in truth, he likes this. He’s enjoying standing out here in the rain and the dark and smoking his nightly cigarette by your side once more, just like that first night in Martinaise.

You rest your arms on the railing as well and try to map his sightline. Your arm presses against his in the cramped space, but he does not react.

“Pretty bitchin’ view here,” you comment. “Comparatively.”

“Mhm,” hums the lieutenant. “By Jamrock standards, quite bitchin’.”

PERCEPTION: His hand dangles loosely over the edge of the railing. It’s a bit smaller than yours and much thinner, bonier. Sharp and angled like a marble sculpture.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY: A work of art. Just like the rest of him.

SUGGESTION: Wonder what that hand would feel like in yours…?

“Everything alright, detective?” Kim asks, smoke escaping from his lips as he speaks. You realize that you’ve been staring at his hand for longer than is generally considered acceptable by polite society.

“Just spacing out a little I guess,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Par for the course with you,” the lieutenant chuckles.

VOLITION: Don’t make this too weird. Don’t think about that cigarette dangling loosely from his beautiful hands, or how soft his lips must be, or how nice it would be to just give up all pretense and embarrass yourself and hug him tightly right here on the balcony. Whatever you do, don’t think of any of those things.

CONCEPTUALIZATION: Shit.

“Well, it’s getting late,” you say, stubbing out your half-finished cigarette in the nearby ashtray. “I should probably go.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. We’ve got work in the morning after all.”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: You do?

VOLITION: Just play it cool.

“Yes,” you say, nodding stoically. “Tomorrow is Monday. I am aware of this, and that is why I said that in the first place, and not for any other reason.”

SAVOIR FAIRE: Nailed it.

“Tomorrow is Tuesday,” Kim says flatly, his face expressionless.

“I know that!” you say defensively. “I was just testing you. Come on, Kim, you don’t think I’m really that stupid, do you?”

He starts to say something, then thinks better of it and instead takes a long drag of his cigarette before trying again. “No, detective. I don’t think that.” Then he puts it out on the bottom of his boot and drops it in the ashtray.

The two of you head back into the apartment as the rain starts up again. You pull on your tarpaulin cloak in preparation for the long walk back home. But as you reach the front door, the lieutenant stops you.

“You know, you could just stay here if that would be easier,” he says abruptly, looking tense. “It’s late, and it’s raining, and…”

ESPRIT DE CORPS: ...And the route from here to your home features at least a dozen bars along the way.

EMPATHY: He’s worried you might not be able to resist the siren song of their garish neon signs and blaring dance music spilling out onto the streets like a red carpet unfurling.

“And your injury,” he adds quickly. “It was causing you some pain earlier, wasn’t it?”

HALF LIGHT: You don’t need his *pity.*

INLAND EMPIRE: Maybe you *do.* He knows you too well already.

EMPATHY: And, for whatever reason, cares about you a little too much. A terrible decision on his part, really.

“Yeah, good point. Plus your place is closer anyway,” you reply. “Thanks. Sorry to impose.”

He gives you a little nod. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Soon, you’re settled in on Kim’s couch under a small pile of blankets that still smell like artificial flowers, cloying and too sweet, freshly laundered.

He says good night and disappears into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. It’s strange somehow, lying here in his living room alone in the dark. Like you’re somewhere you shouldn’t be. Like sneaking into a museum after it closes.

PERCEPTION: In the hazy twilight of impending sleep, you notice a calendar on the wall across from you. You can just barely make it out in the dim light, and you realize something.

“Son of a bitch,” you shout, “tomorrow *is* Monday!”

Just before you retreat into the blanket nest you could swear you hear a muffled apology from the next room.

#disco elysium #fanfic #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #harry/kim

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savofid · 3 years

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I'm completely burnt out at this point. Just... I dunno.

For context, I've got some pretty bad anxiety issues brought on by a combination of working for the government and being in a relationship with a legit psychopath. I went from an incredibly controlled and structured work environment to a somehow even more controlled home life. She would lie and manipulate both me and my friends to maintain control over me. I eventually did end the relationship, but the damage was done and can't be undone.

As for the burnout... I was at work on Saturday, a day where a very important inspector happened to be visiting. We knew in advance, which probably didn't help me at all. We did well, which is nice, but he didn't show up until the afternoon. Considering I got there at 9 in the morning, I had all that time to just let my anxiety fester and grow.

When my anxiety manifests itself, it does do in one of two primary ways. I either become physically ill or incredibly aggressive. Saturday happened to be an aggressive day, so I kept my mouth shut and talked to no one. Every little thing that one particular coworker did would set me off, and I had to keep that all bottled up. The sheer level of her incompetence is unparalleled in any place I've ever worked, and I once had a boss that couldn't do basic math.

Now, I thought that, outside of that day, especially having the next day off, I'd recover and be fine. Turns out that having what was effectively a low intensity anxiety attack for ~6 hours does a lot to wear you down, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, as well.

When I got back to work on Monday, I was relatively okay. I didn't really sleep the night before, maybe getting two hours, but, other than that, I was fine... Until 3 PM, when one of the girls I work with showed up. For the record, I have an incredibly powerful sense of smell, to the point where I can tell when one of my coworkers is having her period even before I've seen her. I can just smell the change from across the restaurant. Smell also has a profound effect on me, which I suppose makes sense given the context.

She must've changed her shampoo or perfume or something, maybe deodorant, I don't know, but whatever she did made her smell exactly like my first ex. I had to actively stay away from her because it would just send me through an emotional rollercoaster each time I got a whiff of it. This eventually caused me to break even more.

Thoughts were filling my head; thoughts of self-harm and self-destruction, an intense desire to drink, a want for isolation, and just an overwhelming desire to collapse onto the floor and weep. I gave in to none of those (although I did have a single beer before bed so as to quiet that stupid, nagging voice in my head that refused to shut up even after 8 hours). I honestly think I should have at least allowed myself to cry. I think it would've been cathartic.

All this being said, it's been almost 6 days since then and I only feel marginally better. I just want to be okay again, and I don't even know where to start. How do I even stop that? How can I possibly stop myself from smelling something that'll flood me with overwhelming emotions and bring me crashing down all over again? I don't have an answer that doesn't involve the destruction of my olfactory nerves, because part of me feels like even that won't stop it.

Should I go into therapy? Probably, yeah. Do I want to? Absolutely. Can I afford to? Not at all. I can't even afford to replace my car right now, which is its own source of anxiety. I know I've got friends that would happily talk to me about what I'm going through, but I feel like they won't understand it completely, that some part of it will get lost on them without me having to go into a lengthy amount of context as to how all of this is affecting me. I could do it here, sure, but no one reads this or is going to read this, so what's the point? I'll give some context, though, just in case someone does end up stumbling across it at some point:

My first ex was also my first partner. As the saying goes, "You'll always remember your first," and, boy howdy, is that true. She was patient with me and genuinely did love me. She taught me much of what I know now about sex, and I, somehow, taught her a few things, too. However, she repeatedly cheated on me. We were only together for 6 months and she managed to cheat on me 7 times. Now, the critical thinkers might assume this caused some abandonment issues or worries about trust and all that. You'd be incorrect. The stem of the issue that I have today is from me, not her.

After we had broken up, she would still try to talk to me and get me to come back to her house to have sex. I'd refuse every time cause I didn't want anything to do with her anymore. However, one day, I was at work and she texted me. That particular day was following a rather painful dental operation that resulted in me being prescribed painkillers. I won't get into the side effects they had on me, but let's say one made me much more willing to take her up on her offer.

I texted my parents and told them that I was going to be late getting home due to one girl being late. This wasn't an unusual occurrence on its own, so they bought it. Instead, I went over to my ex's house. I didn't even change out of my work clothes, was still mostly dressed, and we ended up having sex. I ended up finishing much quicker than anticipated, most likely due to the meds, and I immediately began getting ready to go.

She lay there, naked on the floor, looking innocent and sweet like she felt I was coming back to her in that moment. I looked at her and said, "Do you wanna know why I finished so quickly?"

She perked up, eager to hear the answer. "Why's that?" She was clearly expecting me to tell her something about how I missed her, but I shattered her in that moment with a single sentence.

"Because I don't fucking love you anymore." I walked out of her room, waved goodbye to her dad, got in my car, and left into the night. She never tried to talk to me ever again after that. The closest reaction I had to her was her mom apologizing on behalf of her daughter's behavior while the two of us were together. A year after we broke up. It was... Awkward, to say the least.

I still beat myself up about that, about how I broke her heart. To this day, I still haven't forgiven myself, even if it was what was needed to have been said to get her to leave me alone. I didn't need to be so mean about it. There were other ways to achieve the same result, and I chose the nuclear option. That's why, when I smell that same smell, it hits so goddamned hard. It doesn't remind me of her, it reminds me of what I did to her.

And now, here I am, 11 years later, still paying the emotional price for that. The look in her eyes as I said that still haunts me to this day; the look of someone completely broken in the most vulnerable position one could be in.

People tell me I'm nice. I'm not. I'm a terrible person and should be treated as such.

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amaloaf · 7 years

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All of them

3 Fears3 things I love2 turns on2 turns offMy best friendSexual orientationHow tall am IWhat do I miss right nowFavourite colorDo I have a crush ^ already answered these

Favourite place

my room of the senior lounge in my school

What am I listening to right now

a davenchurch playlist (current song: Something I Need- One Republic)

Shoe size

9-10 womens

Eye color

brown and gold

Hair color

ALSO brownish-gold

Meaning behind my URL

haha Fenton called me a walking paradox as a joke and it stuck!

Favourite song

literally dont have one but im currently loving “Waving Through a Window” from the dear evan hanson soundtrack

Favourite band

either panic! at the disco or fall out boy

How I feel right now

absolutely awful but you sending this completely boosted my mood!!

Someone I love

oh sweet jesus, Fenton and Ellie and Pear and Cade and Vinny and Dylan and Sydney and Daffy and Simon and Nico and Jayme and Kiwi and Arily and this is going overboard but i cannot hold all my love in

My current relationship status

painfully single and desperately needing to get laid

My relationship with my parents

Favourite season

fall

Tattoos and piercing i have

none, unfortunately

Tattoos and piercing i want

a septum piercing, 1mm gauges, a second piercing, an outer ear ring, sleeve tats of intertwining roses and dandelions, magnus’ railsplitter somewhere (im still deciding on where..)

The reasons I joined Tumblr

all my middle school friends had it

Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

not anymore

Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

i kissed my dad before

How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

cosmetically? five minutes max

Have you shaved your legs in the past three days?

unfortunately i did yesterday

Where am I right now?

at my desk, sitting on pile of laundry im neglecting

Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

i like it quiet

Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

both, but unhappily

Am I excited for anything?

death, also graduation i guess

Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

my friends Cade and Dylan are good buddies

How often do I wear a fake smile?

….. next question

If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

the mcelroys, specifically travis

What do I think about most?

not to be dark but death

Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

neither, but behind if i have to be

What was the last lie I told?

“no mom i totally bought this”

Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

i dont do either v much but i really like vids when i can get them

Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

yes and yes (i saw three ghosts in my life)

Do I believe in magic?

hell yeah

Do I believe in luck?

mostly

What’s the weather like right now?

clear night skies with a slight fall nip in the air

What was the last book I’ve read?

animal farm by george orwell

Do I have any nicknames?

M.K., M, Loaf

Do I spend money or save it?

both?

Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

nope!

Favourite animal?

hgnnnnn cant choose, maybe sharks?

What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

sleeping

What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Hips Dont Lie!

What is my favorite word?

bludgeoning because im a nerd

If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

CUT THE CRAP AND LEARN TO LIVE TOGETHER IN PEACE GOD DAMN IT

Do I have any relatives in jail?

i deadass dont talk to my family but im p sure one of my cousins was arrested last week

What is my current desktop picture?

that picture of the sloth photoshopped on a dolphin with the P!NK lyrics

Had sex?

Bought condoms?

Gotten pregnant?

oh god no

Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

no but my first kiss with a boy i got sprayed on at a waterpark

Had job?

im a partime paralegal

Smoked weed?

yep

Smoked cigarettes?

for a long ass time in middle school (if im bein real honest im going to pic it back up again probably)

Drank alcohol?

Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

definetly not

Been overweight?

currently am

Been underweight?

when i was born

Gotten my heart broken?

plenty of times

Been to prom?

yes

Been in airplane?

oh yeah, i love flying

Learned another language?

took spanish for 10+ years and dont know a damned word of it

Wore make up?

Dyed my hair?

no but i really want to

Had a surgery?

yes! some work on my ear after i fucked it up as a baby

Met someone famous?

a band called After Romeo

Stalked someone on a social network?

i tend to go through social media when i find new accounts i like but its never stalkerish

Been fishing?

got the license and everything

Been rejected by a crush?

yea, ive only ever had one crush where it panned out

What do I want for birthday?

a binder

Do I like my handwriting?

Where do I want to live when older?

idk, im praying i dont end up back in vegas

Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

got caught reading awful porn once does that count

What I’m really bad at

ohh im really holding back on saying “everything” but if i had to choose wind instruments

What my greatest achievments are

my art, my relationships, my baby handling skills

The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

ill give you the second worse: “ well at least being a fattass made you bouncy”

What I’d do if I won in a lottery

buy a house, get a super crazy nice computer, give some money to the friends listed up earlier on the list and draw for all eternity

What do I like about myself

my eyes and my good heart and my ability to fake good things

My closest Tumblr friend

oh definitely Fenton or @whyldkratts

Any question you’d like?

feel free to send in your own question!

Are you outgoing or shy?

yes

What kind of people are you attracted to?

soft bellies, thick legs and hips, nice pecs, soft long hair, nice lips

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

idk maybe? i hope so, yall can feel free to make the first move ;3

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

no, i actually like it!

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

my buddy Cade

What does the most recent text that you sent say?

What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

Something I Need, Michel in the Bathroom, For Forever, Waving Through a Window, and Freeze Your Brain

Do you like it when people play with your hair?

oh yes!! please play with my hair!!! ((and playing with OTHER peoples hair??? oh boy howdy dont even get me started!!!!))

Do you think there is life on other planets?

hell yes!

Do you like bubble baths?

sure, no real pref either way

Do you like your neighbors?

NOPE

Where would you like to travel?

yes!

Favorite part of your daily routine?

sleep

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

*sweats* yes?? (probably my boobs and stomach, also my arms)

What do you do when you wake up?

stare at the ceiling and mentally prepare myself for the day

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

darker, it lost a lot of melinin when i hit puberty for some reason??

Do you ever want to get married?

yes! even if its just a platonic life partner marriage!

If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

yep

Would you rather live without TV or music?

telivision my man

Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

yep! one time it went to shit the other time it went fairly ok

What are your favorite stores to shop in?

target and hot topic

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

normally yes but you gotta kno when to get the hell away from certain folks

Do you smile at strangers?

sometimes

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

OH yeaaah

Ever wished you were someone else?

every god damned day

Favourite makeup brand?

cheap

Last thing you ate?

mashed potatoes

Ever won a competition? For what?

won a college science fair in middle school once

Ever been in love?

im always in love

Facebook or Twitter?

twitter always (pst mines @emiglody95

Twitter or Tumblr?

tumblr

Are you watching tv right now?

What colour are your towels?

beige and brown

Favourite ice cream flavour?

cookie dough or coffee

First person you talked to today?

my mother or Ellie i can remember

Last person you talked to today?

Pear or my day, again i cant remember

Name a person you hate?

Prestly, Kevin, Zoe, Mike

Name a person you love?

hmm ive already listed a lot of people already so lets go with: Wilson

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

remember Kevin from two asks ago?

Do you tan a lot?

im outside a lot but my tan is mostly natural

Have any pets?

my dog, Gus!

Do you type fast?

yes actually!!

Do you regret anything from your past?

im not lookin to type a paragraph so lets go with yes

Ever broken someone’s heart?

yeah,,

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

every day

Is cheating ever okay?

no, but if your partner got seriously fucked up and it was a total accident and you trust them then MAYBE you can reconsider not throwing their asses out

Do you believe in true love?

to an extent

What your zodiac sign?

leo!

Do you believe in ghosts?

id better ive seen three of ‘em

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“ Its fine”, she said primly as she turned back to the trays of jewelry.

#answered for me #hell yea love gettin these things

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