I know you're moving, and probably won't read this until a day or two after it goes live, due to your own exhaustion, and being busy.
Then again, you tend to look for those few minutes of escape to read things here, so you may get to it as soon as you are out of the car after your long ass drive to the frozen north.
I am sorry you feel so worried about me through all of this. I know I steel myself over from almost everything, which makes me difficult to read. Admittedly, the first week after you said you were moving I was terrified. You would find some scene up there, fall into place, meet some girl (or boy, or both!), and fall away like so many other people. I'd become some irritation of your past that tried to creep back in and get shooed away, no longer a part of where you are.
At the same time I was terrified that you wouldn't find any of it. That you'd become reclusive, and hide from everything life has to offer. You'd fall back into your depression, and avoid contact just because you couldn't shake everything that had crept into your head. Being that far I couldn't do anything to help, or eventually even know if you were ok.
And then I felt how nervous you were about it, for all the same reasons, and I knew that together we wouldn't let any of it happen. Between the two of us, we were so concerned about the other that you were almost kept from something truly fantastic. That sledgehammer to the feels was honestly the best thing you could have done to me (short of a beating immediately after; we could both use the violence), and since then I've known that as much as you're moving, you're not going anywhere unless I'm dumb enough to send you away.
Helping you with all of this is actually a steadying thing. There is no need to apologize for any of it, or to feel like what I am there for is cruel or hurting. Being around you at all is more help than if you were doing this all by yourself, and relaxes me. The fact that you want me there shows that you appreciate me enough not to disappear.
And really, I know where you're going to be working, as well as where you'll be living. The fact that you aren't frightened of that shows that we're close enough that you're not leaving my life in the slightest. I intend to be up there as often as I can, and spend as much time with you as possible.
This is a good thing for you. You need to get away from the stress of your parents, and work more towards the fantastic things you are meant to do. It'll help you in the long run, and I'll be right there to help with anything else necessary. I'm looking forward to seeing how you grow there, and finding all the trouble we will be able to make up there.
You are a fantastic part of my life, and someone I want to keep as close as possible, for as long as I can. The connection I have to you is that reminder of what we're all supposed to be looking for, and in the best way possible.
I'll tell you the same thing I told to Kitty about a decade ago now. You've found a place in my life, and managed to become one of the few people I truly and completely care about. Unless you seriously fuck up, or die, no bit of that will change.
Then again, you tend to look for those few minutes of escape to read things here, so you may get to it as soon as you are out of the car after your long ass drive to the frozen north.
I am sorry you feel so worried about me through all of this. I know I steel myself over from almost everything, which makes me difficult to read. Admittedly, the first week after you said you were moving I was terrified. You would find some scene up there, fall into place, meet some girl (or boy, or both!), and fall away like so many other people. I'd become some irritation of your past that tried to creep back in and get shooed away, no longer a part of where you are.
At the same time I was terrified that you wouldn't find any of it. That you'd become reclusive, and hide from everything life has to offer. You'd fall back into your depression, and avoid contact just because you couldn't shake everything that had crept into your head. Being that far I couldn't do anything to help, or eventually even know if you were ok.
And then I felt how nervous you were about it, for all the same reasons, and I knew that together we wouldn't let any of it happen. Between the two of us, we were so concerned about the other that you were almost kept from something truly fantastic. That sledgehammer to the feels was honestly the best thing you could have done to me (short of a beating immediately after; we could both use the violence), and since then I've known that as much as you're moving, you're not going anywhere unless I'm dumb enough to send you away.
Helping you with all of this is actually a steadying thing. There is no need to apologize for any of it, or to feel like what I am there for is cruel or hurting. Being around you at all is more help than if you were doing this all by yourself, and relaxes me. The fact that you want me there shows that you appreciate me enough not to disappear.
And really, I know where you're going to be working, as well as where you'll be living. The fact that you aren't frightened of that shows that we're close enough that you're not leaving my life in the slightest. I intend to be up there as often as I can, and spend as much time with you as possible.
This is a good thing for you. You need to get away from the stress of your parents, and work more towards the fantastic things you are meant to do. It'll help you in the long run, and I'll be right there to help with anything else necessary. I'm looking forward to seeing how you grow there, and finding all the trouble we will be able to make up there.
You are a fantastic part of my life, and someone I want to keep as close as possible, for as long as I can. The connection I have to you is that reminder of what we're all supposed to be looking for, and in the best way possible.
I'll tell you the same thing I told to Kitty about a decade ago now. You've found a place in my life, and managed to become one of the few people I truly and completely care about. Unless you seriously fuck up, or die, no bit of that will change.
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