#no one recognized our cosplays but it's okay france is just not ready for us yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aussadstuff · 5 years

Text

My thoughts. Part One.

Before we get started, this isn’t me deciding I want to die. This is me deciding to vent to the world. Take my words with a grain of salt, or a pound for a pound. If you’re struggling through the same things I am, I encourage you to continue. Continue to live. You may not realize it, but you have someone. If you’re here because you’re lost. You’ve lost the person you’ve cared most for, for a certain amount of time. Keep going. Not keep looking through blogs. Keep living through life. I know it’s hard. I’m going through it right now as we speak. I dated this boy. We’ll call him Sebastian, not because that’s his name, but to make it harder for the people I don’t want to worry about me to find this and worry. Sebastian and I were dating for a little over a month. I’ve learned many, many times that I fall too hard, too fast. We knew each other for a month maybe two before we decided to go out. We lived thousands of miles apart. We met through an anime roleplay group, I played the punk disaster lesbian, he played the sparkling, joyful, dumb blonde. We both were in relationships with rare-pairs (Meaning our characters were in a relationship that wasn’t well liked in the fandom). I wasn’t meaning to fall for him. We started talking over the channels voice chat, while he got into cosplay. He was cosplaying one of my favorite characters, a character I also have a cosplay of. I heard his voice for the first and my first thoughts weren’t “oh. This is a new person whose voice I don’t yet recognize” like I do with most. Instead, as I sat there, listening to him talk about his cat, his makeup, even his mom, I thought to myself. “This... This is the voice of a boy who has to be attractive. His voice is adorable and I don’t think I would mind falling asleep to it, every evening.” I never, NEVER voiced this thought before we were dating. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I regret saying or thinking what I did. Nor do I regret the things I feel to this very day. I guess what I am trying to say about this, isn’t that you should regret what you had, not when it made you so happy at the time. I’ve always had self-worth issues, things that I find horrible about myself, my voice, my appearance, even the things I say sometimes. But Sebastian never once made fun of me, not for a single thing. Instead, he helped me. He helped build me up, see myself as something better than I used to think. I was feeling confident, I was feeling pretty, I was feeling like I could do anything I wanted like I could walk the thousands of miles between us and see him, and he would still welcome me with open arms. Sebastian taught me some French, along with the help of our mutual friend Alex. Alex helped me learn how to not only spell flirty things in French but also how to pronounce things, like “J’adore toi, mon citrouelle.” Which is I adore you, my pumpkin. It hurts me to write that, even now.

Let’s go back to how it started. He sent pictures of himself in cosplay, and I instantly got a crush, but I again never voiced this. For the longest time, I thought he was strictly gay. I don’t remember now if he was bi or pan or demi, but he was one of those. He was several years younger than me. I’m a senior in American high school (So, grade 13 I believe for everyone else. I could be wrong though) and he is a freshman in the American school system (So. Grade 10 I believe? But again I could be wrong). One day, no one else was able to get into the group voice cat, at least not for long, the others would pop in and out depending on what they were doing. He convinced me (though it wasn’t all that hard with that sickeningly sweet voice of his) to cosplay the older brother of the one he was cosplaying. This was the first time we were completely alone together, talking by ourselves. I had fun, even as I probably poisoned myself a little by putting acrylic paint straight onto my skin, near my lips and my eyes. We started calling just about daily after that, and one day, the subject of original characters (or ocs for those who don’t know) was brought up. I jokingly mumbled something about having 20 plus underdeveloped characters for this particular series. He was almost like thrilled to hear about them. For about 3 nights I made up personalities and headcanons on the spot, reasons why they were with who they were, what their past was, etc, etc. All because he was excited and I thought he sounded adorable. I knew then that I wanted to help him stay happy. It wasn’t until one night roughly a month and a couple of days that I, in a half-awake, very flirty state, when we were getting ready for bed. I was flirty and in my half-awake state decide that I should tell him how I feel. So, I said, “Oh and one last thing Sebastian/If you were into girls/And given the chance I would date you in a heartbeat/Therefore You are attractive/You are worth it/You are perfect just as you are.” It wasn’t until the next morning I was made aware of his feelings as well. I won’t quote him, because even looking for what I said hurt me. Seeing the endless messages between us roll past. I’m the friend that tells everyone that they love them, and at some point in time I realized that when I said it to him, I meant it.

If I had the chance? I would take it back. Not because I regret what I said, no I meant every word of admiration I spoke, every loving thought I had, all of it was true. I just want want to take it back so I could have avoided the pain and the sorrow I currently feel. He broke up with me but mere days ago. It has taken quite the toll on me. I’ve had trouble eating, sleeping, I’ve even had trouble keeping liquids down. I still love him. I do. But my mind is stuck in three places. Wishing I never admitted how I felt, Wishing I fought the breakup or convinced him to stay, or Wishing he never went to France. Sebastian left for France for a French Class trip. We were coping with the time zone difference. While it was 4 p.m. here, it was nearly midnight there. We were doing the best we could with what we had. However... Things changed. Not in days time, not with my notice, but it changed. Abruptly. The day after the Notre Dame fire, he left me. He didn’t die. He just... dumped me. Now, please bear in mind, I asked him when we started dating if the distance between us would be an issue. He said he didn’t care. He wanted to be with me. Well, along those lines at least. The point was that he okay with the distance. But the day after Notre Dame burned, he left me This next thing will be the only thing I quote him on in this entire blog. “I am so greatful to have you in my life and i love and appreciate you so so much, not being able to see you in real life is hard, and I miss you all the time, but i don't know what I'm missing because I can't see you, and that sucks so so fucking much I've been thinking I miss you because I haven't been able to talk to you as much but it feels the same even though I am thousands of miles away. I need you to know that being with you has made me so so happy but as a relationship not being able to see you makes this so hard and I think I'm too in love with you to stay in this relationship because it hurts to much” I cannot stress how much this one message hurt me. I read it over and over and over until I could’ve recited it from heart, assuming my now broken and deflated heart was still able to function. But my anxiety, the only thing that had given me a small heads up when he texted “we need to talk” (Okay so maybe I’ll quote him some more), wouldn’t let me sleep. Not until I knew the real reason. People don’t break up because they are “too in love to stay”. So I texted him, crying in the middle of the night, hoping to god he just ignored it so I wouldn’t have to cry as I saw his name flash on my screen.

I texted, “I know this probably isn't what you want to see when you wake up and I understand but... I just gotta know... Is that really why you don't want to be together anymore? Or was it something I did? Something I said? I know I'm being a bother and annoying but... This has been nagging me for hours and my anxiety just won't let it go. I'm sorry. I'm not gonna try to get back with you. I understand that you weren't happy and You're doing what's best for you but. I just gotta know. I'm sorry.” To which he responded before the night was even over, “[Au] nothing you ever did was remotely wrong in any way, and yes that's the only reason why, you don't have to be sorry, something about seeing how easily things can be destroyed and coming to France I don't know it was just terrible having to see that, I was so happy with you, so so happy, it's just is realizing that a long distance relationship isn't sustainable for me”. Please, don’t take this and think that Sebastian was a horrible person. He wasn’t he was sweet and amazing and by far one of the best boyfriends I’ve ever had. I guess in the end. This isn’t me telling you my thoughts.

This is me, trying to figure out why. Why I let myself be lead on. Only to be hurt in the very end, because of some accident, some error that occurred during the construction of a building nearby.

Why if it was an issue to him, why didn’t it bother me, someone who love cuddles. Who wants to be held. Who wants affection from their significant other. Why was I okay with it? Why was I perfectly fine with sacrificing all of my favorite things from relationships to be with him. Why could I cope but he couldn’t? Why could I tell people that I wasn’t interested in a relationship because I was in one if in the end I was left for something I tried to make sure wouldn’t be an issue? Why I’m hurting so bad, when I never knew what his affectionate touch felt like, what a passionate kiss tasted like, what irregular patterns his heart would beat as we laid together sounded like, the way his eyes light up when he gets excited looks like, what really loving him, giving my all to him, and him giving his all to me felt like.

Why do I feel like I’m drowning in sorrow?

When I never got to drown in his physical and emotional love at the same time.

Why do I still yearn for him to come back, asking to have me again, saying that he was wrong and he can’t live without me? Why do I still crave to see a voice message from him, telling me he loves me, speaking to me in that dumb freaking language I learned for him? Why do I still want to record love songs and send them to him, despite hating the sound of my own voice? Why do I still want to be able to fall asleep and know that he is mine, and I am his? Why do I still want to make plans for the future, knowing that we no longer have one? Why do I still want to know what his arms feel like wrapped around me as we lay in bed together, ignoring the morning rays of light for just a few more minutes together? Why do I still hurt even though I’ve been through so much? Why can’t I catch a break? Why do I still want to message him, begging, pleading, doing anything I can to get him back, even though I physically shake trying to hold my tears in because I know it’s never going to happen? Why is he still all I can think about when I know I should loathe, want nothing to do with him, why I still love him? Why I still love him even though he hurt me so much? Why I can’t help but sit here and hope and pray he never sees this and never realizes he is Sebastian, because I don’t want him to know everything I’m thinking about this? Why I can’t help but tear up thinking that maybe he does, and it hurts him just as much as he hurt me? That I want to hide this from him, so he can find the person he wants, he needs and be with them so that maybe his life with them is better than anything he could’ve had with me? Why did I share so much? Why did I tell him about my issues, about my fears?

Why did I tell him about my fears, but not the one I’m living in now. The fear of being utterly left, broken and shattered of what I once was. Holding up a mirror to those unsuspecting people, who think I’m okay. That I’m just a little down because I’m trying to move on. That I have cried every day since it happened and I loathe crying almost more than I loathe myself. That every night I’ve been so tempted to take all of the military grade muscle relaxers so that my heart doesn’t kill me from the pain I am in. So that I don’t die of a broken heart.

Why did I let him in?

Why did I open myself up to this pain?

Why does the color of his hair, the color he loved so much, hurt me still to think about and breaks my heart all over again every time I see it?

Why do I still want him to be mine? Even though I would never want him to come back to me if it meant him not being happy. Why would I still give up everything I own to see him in real life? Why I would give up my soul for just one chance that I know wouldn’t last? Why I would give anything to hear him mutter that same stupid phrase, using my full name just one more freaking time?

All I want to hear is...

“J’adore toi tellement, [Full First name].”

One last time.

I guess that’s all for now.

Until next time,

~Au

#trigger warnings #suicide tw #depression tw

0 notes