Take It or Leave It

I wasn’t expecting much from what was supposed to be the best day of my life. A lot of unpacking, probably (definitely) a lot of crying, maybe going for shitty Chinese take out and being harassed by someone on the way back. Or at least that was what all of the movies had taught me. What I wasn’t expecting was finding a three legged cat on the sidewalk and an anonymous message on Tumblr that would change my life. Maybe I was a pessimist.

In my defense, there was a lot of crying and unpacking and mostly at the same time. I don’t think that had to do with me being a pessimist, I think it had to do with the way I left home. I’d never been a particularly rebellious child (or teenager) despite the fact that I grew up in a very small town with a lot of small minded people. I knew how to keep the Alivia Gray McCarter that my parents wanted me to be separate from the Alivia Gray McCarter that I really was, which probably helped and hurt me in more ways than one.

Two months after my eighteenth birthday, my purple-haired Nana Olivia passed away. Four months later, I received my very large inheritance. I wasn’t my grandmother’s favorite granddaughter just because I was named after her. It was mostly because I was probably just as crazy as her and only a fraction of her age and because I was the only one that didn’t want to put her in a home.

Because I was eighteen, the money was all mine. I was no longer a minor and I was free to save or spend or do whatever I wanted with it. I saved it all.

I didn’t touch a penny of it until I got my acceptance letter from NYU. I found an apartment through a family friend in SoHo, packed my things, and much to my parents’ and brother and sister’s shock and horror, chopped off my long blonde hair to my shoulders and dyed it brown. And then I left.

The thing was, planning to spend your first night in a completely unfurnished apartment is one thing, but actually doing it is miserable. I managed to unpack most of my clothes and ignore the fact that I didn’t have even a mattress to sleep on until the sun was setting and my stomach was making inhuman noises.

So I decided I’d get some take out and come back and pig out and get drunk off the housewarming bottle of wine my landlord Jeff gave me. I was pretty sure he was just as miserable as me and completely aware of the fact that I was still underage.

So I walked around listening to Arcade Fire feeling some sort of weird and sick nostalgia as the sun set until I found a little hole in the wall Chinese place that’s sign was half burnt out.

It wasn’t until the walk home when it was starting to get dark and kind of scary and I sort of wished I’d practiced my cab-hailing skills when I nearly dropped my food and screamed.

There was a pile of garbage bags on the curb which was, well gross but fine, except for the fact that there was some sort of terrifying demon thing moving in it. After a loud, “What the fuck?!” and a stumble more than a jump backwards from me and a weird and muffled sort of hissing from the thing, I realized that it wasn’t actually the spawn of satan. It was a cat. With it’s head stuck in a pickle jar. And it was missing a leg.

Growing up in a big farm house with a lot of land meant, whether I wanted to be or not, I was sort of a really big animal lover. Which also meant I wasn’t just going to leave this ugly cat with three legs stuck in a pickle jar. Not even when his big, scary, glowy eyes were piercing through my terrified blue ones.

That’s how I ended up with a three legged cat, sitting on my floor, named Pickles.

We were sitting on the floor of my empty living room, staring at each other. He was more than offended when I took the jar off his head and tried to carry him home. So offended that I actually had to bring the disgusting jar with me and wash it out and leave it on the floor so he could bat it around.

So we sat there for a few minutes, take out boxes strewn across the floor and my laptop in front of me, and just stared. I had no idea whether or not I was allowed to have pets (although I wasn’t sure my landlord was ever sober enough to particularly care) or how this cat lost his right front leg or how I was even going to take care of him. All I knew was that he was really grumpy (more so than me), he smelled, and he had a strange fascination with jars. And because I had no one but the internet to tell that information to, I made a text post about him.

arcatfire:
i found a cat today. on the sidewalk. who leaves a cat on the sidewalk??

#his head was stuck in a pickle jar #i feel like that’s some sort of sign from a higher power #new york is weird[/small]

I answered a few anonymous asks and replied to my Tumblr friends replies to my post and picked at my orange chicken. For my first night in the city of my dreams, it was a lot more like nights back at home than I would’ve liked.

Within minutes my ask was flooded with anons yelling at me about Pickles. Mostly questioning whether I had kept him or not. My followers were great, really. I wasn’t a huge blog, but I had a good amount of followers that were interested in my life and the writing and photos I posted and it was really nice. Maybe it was because no one at home had ever been like that, that I loved it so much.

anonymous asked:
A YOU DIDNT LEAVE THE POOR LIL KITTY DID YOU????

arcatfire answered:
yes i left him there to suffocate w a stinky pickle jar on his head

anonymous asked:
yoURE LYING TELL ME YOURE LYING A

arcatfire answered:
diD YOU GUYS REALLY THINK I WOULD LEAVE HIM THERE?? AM I THAT SHITTY OF A PERSON???

#i s2g none of you understand sarcasm when it’s most important

I ended up having to actually post an Instagram video of the current situation because no one in my inbox seemed to believe me.

(x)
arcatfire:
did u guys really think i would leave him there like that?? i’m not a complete asshole. we’re sitting in my unfurnished living room staring at each other.

#i kept the jar #he made me #his name is pickles btw #original i know #he apparently hates being held #or maybe he just hates me

I answered some more asks and posted a few shitty photos I’d taken on my walk with my phone, trying to avoid the fact that I was completely alone besides a cat missing a leg and that I didn’t even have a mattress or couch.

anonymous asked:
a…...is that a three legged cat…….??

arcatfire answered:
he is a cat /with/ three legs don’t be an ableist asshole

#but ya he is missing his front right leg #he doesn’t like to talk about it

anonymous asked:
aaaAAAA WHERE ARE YOU LIVING IN NYC THIS IS IMPORTANT

arcatfire answered:
i feEL LIKE THESE ARE THE QUESTIONS YOURE TAUGHT NOT TO ANSWER FOR STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET BUT……. SOHO!!!!

#come off anon!! #we can meet up and get coffee or something v new york and cool!!! #srsly pls come off anon i’m so lonely here already

anonymous asked:
Didn’t your mum teach you stranger danger? You should be careful. By the way, your kitty’s adorable. x

arcatfire answered:
my mom also taught me dating was the sin of all sins until you were well over the age of legal soooo plus there’s like 10,000 ppl just in soho so i think i’ll be okay but thanks dude!!

#unless you’re not a dude #or identify as something completely different #pls don’t take offense to that

arcatfire:
okay i think i’m off for my first night’s sleep in nyc wish me luck

#yknow bc i can’t even get take out without adopting a cat #also having no furniture sucks #and hardwood floors are not as great as some of you romanticize them to be #but really goodnight ily all

I was just about to sign off and try to make a semi comfortable bed on my bedroom floor when one last message appeared in my inbox.

anonymous asked:
I definitely am/identify as a dude. (stranger danger anon again) But I just wanted to say I’ve followed you for a while now and I’m really happy for you and proud that you’ve finally made it to New York. Also good luck tonight, hardwood floors do suck. x

arcatfire answered:
oh my god that’s so sweet thank you dude!! and yes my ass is asleep rn just from sitting on this floor i have no idea how/if i’ll survive the night

#pls come off anon so i can properly tell you how much i want to kiss your face rn #also so glad i didn’t offend you

*

The next week was sort of a blur. I mostly bought cat supplies and walked around exploring and taking pictures and looking for furniture. I moved in on a Monday and by Sunday I only had a mattress and some new sheets and blankets, a microwave, and a refrigerator. I was well aware of the fact that there were probably hundreds of furniture stores in Manhattan alone (half of which I had probably already visited) but I couldn’t find anything I liked. My apartment had to be perfect. It had to be me. And I’d know when I found the right bed frame or dresser or couch.

Stranger Danger Anon came back every day until he hit ask limit. It got to the point where I was practically begging him to come off anon and so were other anons. We’d talked about everything from movies to music to weird childhood injuries. He’d admitted he had a blog but still wouldn’t come off anonymous because “he was intimidated”. All I knew was that his url was from one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs (Time) and he had a mild addiction to York peppermint patties (which weren’t available in the UK).

arcatfire:
idk why people think i’m intimidating. just because i wear red lipstick sometimes doesn’t mean i’m something to be scared of!!!!

#im still trying to get the stranger danger anon to not be an anon #help!!!! #how do i make him come off anon??

So maybe I was a little more than desperate. I tried to justify it with the fact that I was unbearably lonely. I was shit at making friends, especially when I had to make them outside of somewhere like school or work. So that meant until classes started in August and I found a job I’d mostly be keeping to myself. And Pickles. And my blog. It was only mid July.

It was Sunday night and I was sprawled out on my mattress (which I’d made the delivery men leave in the middle of my living room because the big window had the best view) eating shitty microwave popcorn and scrolling through my dashboard. I’d been getting even more asks since I started talking to Stranger Danger Anon regularly and most of them looked were either yelling about how he needed to come off anon, how “cute” we were, or how they shipped us. I wasn’t looking for a relationship or anything. I didn’t care if Stranger Danger Anon and I never became anything. I was just dying to know who he was and possibly try to really befriend him. I had some Tumblr friends but never an interesting anon that I talked to regularly. I’d never gotten along with someone like that either.

anonymous asked:
I read your tags you know. x

arcatfire answered:
come off anon and i wouldn’t have to talk about you in my tags

#jk i still totally would

anonymous asked:
you and stranger danger anon are so cute i’m gonna punch myself

arcatfire answered:
don’t do that bruises aren’t nice

anonymous asked:
liSTEN STRANGER DANGER ANON A IS LONELY AND SHE NEEDS ALL THE ATTENTION YOU NEED TO COME OFF ANON

arcatfire answered:
well

#amazing

anonymous asked:
aaaaaalivia your last poem may be my favorite yet it really hit home ilysm))):

arcatfire answered:
nooo lil buddy don’t be sad!! i mean you’re allowed to be sad but i want you to be happy!! i love you v v v much and if you ever need anyone to talk to about anything i’m always here for u

#this makes me so sad and so happy #i don’t want you guys to feel like i do #or anyone tbh

anonymous asked:
could i like pay your stranger danger anon to reveal himself at least to you??

arcatfire answered:
let’s set up a paypal donation

anonymous asked:
hiiii a sorry to bother you i was just wondering how you’re doing like anxiety-wise with your move?? i don’t wanna like pry or be weird but like i’m going across the country for college this fall and i’m sort of v terrified bc i’ve never had a panic attack that far away from home and i was wondering how you’re coping? xx

arcatfire answered:
shhh no you’re not prying or being weird!! first of all, so proud of you on making such a big move!! that’s a v big thing to accomplish! tbh i’ve been doing much better than i thought i would?? like yeah i cried a lot and had a few lil panic attacks the first few days but like nothing major?? ((i’m probably jinxing this)) my advice would be to make sure you have a nice positive outlet for all your feelings (bad and good) where you won’t feel like a burden for letting them out and let them out often!! don’t bottle things! make sure you have good and positive ppl around you!! i’m still v new at this so i don’t have any good and/or solid answers but come off anon anytime you need and i’ll hopefully have a better answer!

#i’m so bad at advice i literally have no idea why you guys ask me but i love u anyway

anonymous asked:
those pics you posted today are fucking gorgeous im gonna scREAM

arcatfire answered:
sh no don’t do that your neighbors/parents/ppl in ur general vicinity might worry

#but thank you #they were nothing special #just iphone shots anyone could take tbh

anonymous asked:
I wiLL NOT BE BRIBED ANON. x

arcatfire answered:
yOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS UNLESS U COME OFF ANON BYE

I had just refreshed my dash to find another Stranger Danger Anon message when my phone started ringing. I knew who it had to be. And really, I wasn’t ready for the conversation that phone call would probably entail. But some fucked up and large part of me couldn’t ignore who I knew was on the other end.

“Hello?” I tried to keep my voice even.

“Alivia Gray,” my mother Cassandra’s voice wasn’t concerned, just angry, “Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?”

I didn’t know what to tell her. I could’ve been brutally honest and told her talking to her made me so anxious I wanted to light myself on fire and melt my too tight skin off. I could’ve lied and told her the service in my apartment was shit. But, no. I was shit at excuses.

“I, uh, didn’t know you called,” I mumbled, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t listening, she was already diving head first into a rage filled rant.

“When are you coming home?” I felt my throat close up.

“Mom, I dunno. Christmas maybe?” I knew she meant for good but I wasn’t really planning on coming back at all and she knew that. Christmas was my half assed attempt at compromise.

“No,” she said sternly, “When are you coming home? Do you really think your grandmother would want you throwing away her money like this?"

My mother was angry, clearly, but she had every right to be. I was the one that left. I was the one that finally rebelled against everything she'd tried to teach me. So as anxious as it made me, I got why she was trying to make me feel guilty.

"Please, don't," I tried quietly but I knew she wouldn't stop. Not until she'd run out of things to say and I was worked up into a panic attack. The latter never took nearly as long as the former.

She ignored me of course, continuing on about how reckless and irresponsible I was being. How much I'd hurt her and my father and siblings. How my grandmother would be ashamed of me. Anything she thought would convince me to come back.

Twenty minutes later, when she'd finally hung up, I was a mess. A shaking, anxious mess.

Everything was too tight; my skin, my clothes, my apartment. I couldn’t breathe. My throat and chest and head felt like they were stuffed with flannel and I wasn’t even crying yet.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. I tried to breathe, tried to talk myself down, but I just couldn’t. I opened my eyes to look at my computer screen. I’d been in the middle of answering messages and I felt terrible but I needed a bath and a cry and to just freak out and be alone. But I didn’t want to leave and have people think I was ignoring them. So I made a shaky text post.

arcatfire:
Read More
----------------------------------------------
i promise im npt ignorign you guys my mom called and idk not good i need a bath dpnt hate me ill be back amd answer questipns or somethign to take my mind o ff it

#i feel likr this needs tags #anxiety tw #anxiety progress #took me sp many tries to spell t hose right

And then I was shutting my laptop and pushing myself to the bathroom.

*

It was an hour and a half later when the water had run so cold I was shivering instead of shaking that I finally pulled myself out of the tub. My eyes were puffy and sore and my entire body felt like jello. I’d calmed down after the worst of it, the twenty minutes of full on sobbing and rocking back and forth and overall feeling like my entire body was going to explode but I was still shaky and then exhausted.

I drained the tub and managed to dry off enough to change before falling back into my mattress in the living room. All I wanted to do was put on a Disney movie and pretend like I might actually get some sleep. But I knew there were people worried about me. A lot of them. And so what if they were online? I owed it to them to let them know I hadn’t offed myself in the bathtub.

I laid on my stomach and made myself a little cocoon of blankets before opening my laptop again and refreshing my dashboard. Pickles climbed onto the mattress and curled up next to me.

26 new messages.

I scrolled through them, nervously skimming through them. Most of them were anons asking if I was okay or telling me they loved me, a few were Tumblr friends who were concerned. There was three in particular that caught my eye.

inquietdesperation asked:
Fuck are you okay?? Well I mean like obviously not but fuck. I’m shit at this. I’m sorry about whatever happened. Do you need to talk? I’m here if you need to talk, obviously. x

inquietdesperation asked:
OH MY GOD I FORGOT TO HIT ANON FUCK

inquietdesperation asked:
Well. Hi. x

I stared at them for a few seconds, in complete shock. Stranger Danger Anon really did have a blog. With a nice url.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting when I clicked on his blog, but it definitely wasn’t what I found. What I found was a blog similar but much nicer than mine (which confused me even more because he’d be intimidated by me?) filled with pictures and bits of writing of his along with reblogs and text posts and anons. A lot of anons. More than I got.

And it shouldn’t have made me nervous but it did. He had a nice blog with clearly a lot of followers and he’d been talking to me. A lonely, anxiety-ridden, mess of a girl with an even messier blog.

So maybe I clicked around his blog for a while. And a while meant I’d read nearly all of his writing and seen majority of his photos and read a ton of his anons and I maybe wanted to throw up again. He went by H and didn’t have much of an about page (I at least found out he was 19 and from the UK) or a face page at all which probably should’ve been a little weird, but I got it. It’d taken me months to find the courage to post my first selfie on my blog.

As much as I wanted to ignore his messages, I couldn’t answer anons and not him.

inquietdesperation asked:
Well. Hi. x

arcatfire answered:
hiii sorry i didn’t mean to freak you out or anything but oh my god hi.

I answered privately, of course, with shaky hands and scrolled back through my inbox and tried to answer everyone who was freaking out.

It was nerve wracking that strangers on the internet cared about my mental state when I already shared so much with them in my writing and photos, but really it was better than no one caring at all. They all had good intentions no matter how scared I was of letting them in on certain aspects of my life.

I ended up making a post about halfway through my inbox because I was only getting flooded with more messages. Since I’d been properly diagnosed with my anxiety a few months back, I started keeping a tag filled with updates of my progress. A lot of my followers told me how much it helped them and so I felt sort of obliged to tell them briefly what had happened.

By the time I published it under a read more, I had ten more asks. One from H.

inquietdesperation asked:
Hiii, wow this is really embarrassing. Didn’t think I’d come off anon like that. Are you alright though? x

*

It was the beginning of the last week in July and H and I had talked all day everyday through Tumblr until both of us hit ask limit. Some of my followers were catching onto the fact that Stranger Danger Anon (who I now called H) must have come off anon if we were still talking but I tried to ignore it. I didn’t want to put H in a weird spot where he felt pressured to reveal himself to my followers when he’d already unwillingly revealed himself to me.

arcatfire:
today i found a recliner and 20 bucks but i also fell getting off the subway and scraped my knee so idk where that leaves it

inquietdesperation asked:
What’s that bring the furniture count up to then? Also how did you manage to find and relocate an actual armchair? x

arcatfire answered:
does a mattress really count as furniture?? bc if so then 2 and a lot of determination and a v kind and sympathetic cab driver tbh

The best thing about talking to H, was that it was easy. Nothing was ever awkward (even when we talked about when he’d first come off anon that night) or weird. It was like we’d known each other for ages. We talked about everything and anything.

I was sat in my new (slightly used and deep maroon) recliner uploading random pictures from the day (mostly taken in the neighborhood I’d found the chair on my walk) and answering asks with Pickles on my lap when H first brought it up.

inquietdesperation asked:
I feel like maybe mattresses only count when a bedframe is involved? Also you know you can give out my url if people are harassing you about it, right? x

I wasn’t really sure how I was supposed to respond to that. I didn’t want him to feel weirdly pressured or anything just because people were still bugging me about it. A selfish part of me didn’t want to tell anyone his url, didn’t want anyone else to steal his attention. It was weird and stupid, I was just some weird girl on the internet and he probably had much more interesting people to talk to, but I couldn’t help it. I tried to blame it on the fact that I was literally completely alone and well, it’s only human nature to crave attention.

I stared at it for a few minutes before typing out my response and rereading it six times before answering him.

arcatfire answered:
that’s probably true and i mean it’s not that bad, it’ll die down eventually i just don’t want you to feel like weird or pressured i guess bc idk you didn’t even mean to come off anon to me but if you want me to give out your url i will

So maybe I gave him a really vague and generally shitty answer, but I was shit at talking to people about emotions or feelings or anything like that.

To take my mind off of it, I reblogged a few things and answered more asks.

anonymous asked:
OKAY BUT ARE YOU EVER GOING TO REVEAL STRANGER DANGER ANON??? A PLS GIVE US A REAL ANSWER

arcatfire answered:
OKAY BUT THIS ISNT REALLY UP TO ME IM SORRY

anonymous asked:
a wHERE IS THAT BLACK JUMPER FROM THAT YOU WERE WEARING IN THE PICTURES YOU JUST POSTED??

arcatfire answered:
BY JUMPER IM ASSUMING YOU MEAN SWEATER AND THE ANSWER TO THAT WOULD BE A THRIFT STORE BUT IDK THE BRAND BC THE TAG IS CUT OFF SORRY PAL

anonymous asked:
a what’s the best thing you’ve done in nyc so far??

arcatfire answered:
going for chinese when the sky was a pretty glowy blue and listening to arcade fire was a life changing experience and ofc ultimately finding pickles

#i’m so lame no wonder i’m alone

It was only a little after eight in the evening but because of the time difference, I wasn’t expecting a reply from H. Especially not the one I got.

inquietdesperation asked:
I mean as long as you’re okay with it, so am I. I get why they want to know, plus it’ll get them to stop bugging you. You don’t have to say anything I could just like send you an ask and you could publish it? Also I have a kind of weird question for you? x

arcatfire answered:
as long as you don’t care that you’re probably going to get just as many ppl bugging you as me then nope i definitely don’t care and i probably have a just as weird answer for your weird question

inquietdesperation asked:
This probably sounds really weird and I’m probably coming off as really creepy but I’m going away for work this week and I don’t know how much I’ll be on but I wanted to maybe give you my kik if you were okay with that? God that sounds so weird please tell me to fuck off. x

arcatfire answered:
oh god, no it’s not creepy, i get it. hope you have fun while you’re away though!! well i mean as much fun as you can have w work stuff

inquietdesperation asked:
Hiiiii I don’t really know what to say but I’m the “Stranger Danger Anon” x

*

When I published H’s ask, I thought maybe things would die down. I was wrong.

I only gained more followers (which I assumed came from his blog) and received more asks on a daily basis. It was weird, but I got it. I’d seen similar things happen on my dashboard before.

H and I had been talking through kik for two weeks. He was in California for a few weeks for work and he’d told me he worked in the music industry but not a lot more. That meant I was now three hours ahead of him which also meant I tended to fall asleep before him because yeah, we seemed to talk constantly.

The first Saturday in August was the closest I ever came to seeing H’s face. We’d exchanged snapchats a few days ago and when I woke up to Pickles meowing loudly a little after noon, I had more notifications from him than I’d ever woken up to. Four kik messages and a snapchat.

H: Good morning on a scale of one to ten how good are you with gross things?

H: And by gross things I mean possible eye infections

H: Considering the majority of the pictures in your /tagged/face are bruises and bloody injuries I think you can handle it

H: But I don’t really know because I can’t even handle it

I couldn’t help but giggle at his messages as I rubbed my eyes tiredly. I opened the snapchat next.

It was of what appeared to be his left eye with the caption ‘OKAY BUT WHAT DO I DO??’. His eye was nearly swollen shut and red but I could still see that his eyes were probably the greenest I’d ever seen. And I couldn’t help but screenshot it.

aaalivia: goodmorning you definitely need to see a doctor

aaalivia: like as soon as possible

I wasn’t expecting an immediate reply because I figured he was probably sleeping but before I could even open any other apps, my phone was buzzing with a kik.

H: YOU TOOK A SCREENSHOT?? I’M HAVING A CRISIS

I grinned at his message. I sort of always expected him to not have time to just kik me almost constantly, but he did. But I never questioned it. It was nice to feel important when I was so alone.

*

I spent the rest of that day walking around the city, taking pictures and finding little shops and cafes like I did everyday. I didn’t mind being completely alone like most people probably would’ve. My whole life I’d been suffocated by family and “friends” and people that just didn’t understand me and tried to shove their opinions down my throat. I was more than content with the freedom of being alone in such a big city until classes started and I found the job I probably already should’ve been looking for.

I hadn’t talked to my mother since the day H came off anon. My father Jack, as I expected, hadn’t made any sort of contact with me. My younger sister Alyssa and older brother Justin hadn’t either. It probably didn’t help that I hadn’t initiated anything and I was avoiding Facebook at all costs. So I should’ve been expecting a phone call from home when I curled up in my recliner to re-watch Freaks and Geeks with leftover spaghetti I’d attempted to make with my one pot.

But I didn’t.

And that was how I ended up curled up in bed after having another meltdown in the tub, spaghetti and 90’s TV shows completely forgotten.

All I wanted was to sleep but I knew it would be impossible, I was wide awake and my mind was racing. So instead I pulled out my phone as a distraction and unlocked it to find three messages from H.

H: I’ve never watched Freaks and Geeks, are you going to disown me??

H: Is this you disowning me or just choosing cancelled-too-soon tv over me?

H: I’ll Netflix it if you respond to meeeeeeee

Despite the fact that my eyes and chest and overall body was aching, I felt a little smile try to tug at my lips.

aaalivia: hi sorry i disappeared my mom called lol

H: Shit are you okay??

aaalivia: yeah i guess idk sorry i’m just tired/shaken up

I wasn’t really expecting him to reply. I wasn’t fun to deal with during or after a panic attack. And I certainly wasn’t expecting where the rest of the conversation went that night.

He not only didn’t seem to mind that I was still shaken up and upset, but he opened up a little too. He told me about his own anxiety which turned into us talking about our writing and then him talking about my writing. He told me that was how he found my blog in the first place, how my writing made him feel less alone. And as many times as I’d heard similar things from anonymous people in my askbox, this was different. This was someone I’d grown to know and like in the past few weeks. And it was terrifying because I’d always been closed off to people I really knew, kept my writing and photography and thoughts and feelings separate from people in real life.

And maybe it was sort of fucked up because we were only strangers who’d :met” through the internet, and I’d never even seen his face, but when I fell asleep mid conversation with him I wasn’t thinking about the guilt I held or the harsh things my mother had told me. I was thinking about his words.