sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
I find it interesting my internal classifications of "crush" and "other assorted romantic-sexual-moirailic feelings towards someone". Because you would think that I would apply most recipients of the latter category to the former word --If I feel more than platonic towards you, I have a crush, right? Well...not exactly.

Because part of having a crush involves that fluttery teenaged feeling of "ooo, do they really like me?!" All the traditional teeny-bopper bullshit, and that's part of what makes crushes great! It's fun to feel jittery and curious and interested and spend time over-interpreting every little word and gesture and touch.

But there are some people who I don't have to do that for. There are people who I can know, without doubt, that they like me --maybe just platonically, but they are decidedly interested in hanging out with me and talking to me and touching me. And when I become more-than-platonic interested in those people, I don't get the fluttery "do-they-don't-they?" feeling in the base of my spine. I get a strong dose of just plain joy from being with them. I like hanging out with them, I like talking to them and hugging them and entering gleeful philosophical arguments or getting advice or whatever comes my way. Sure, sometimes I can get that flutter, but if my brain enters "oo, I LIKE like them!" mode, my first instinct is not to overanalyze, but to straight up say "yo, you're a babe, let's shag."

(Or more accurately, to analyze them and their current situation, and whether or not they are poly or polyfriendly, and whether or not they are associated with someone(s), and if I could or could not deal with those associates1, and where they live, and how often they dance and how well we communicate, and a few other factors that would be a bit too revealing to actually post here. If they meet my Rigorous Testing3, then I toss out a "so, I'm interested, you interested? Let's talk about it lots and lots!", and things go from there. Shagging usually takes much longer to get around to4.)

I think a lot of the difference falls into friendship, and how close I am with the person initially, but some of the difference is certainly the difference between relationships that I am playing for endgame, and relationships that I am playing transiently. When I say "playing for endgame", I don't mean Twoo Wuv Everlasting and six kids and a picket fence, necessarily. I just mean that I am fully intending for this brilliant person to be in my life for the rest of time, in some capacity or another. Maybe they will be just a (varying5) close friend, maybe they will be a reoccurring sexual partner, maybe they will be a romantic partner, maybe they really will be the coparent of my eventual children.

My transient (more often referred to as "casual") relationships do not carry that weight within them. I would like to know these people for a long time --I am usually pretty good about not being attracted (in the sense of friendship as well as moreship) to jerkasses, and I like keeping nifty people in my life. But they feel more like the secondary characters of my play, something to look back fondly at and say "oh yes, we had that glorious BDSM dynamic our last semester of school" or "he's the only uncut cock I've ever had the pleasure of playing with" or even just "we talked so much in person that our chatlogs were able to be nothing more than pages of entertaining links from Tumblr"7.

So when I am interested in a person who I know or suspect will drift away somehow (grad school, awesome new job on the other coast, other relationship turning into The Serious a few more years, I suspect "babies" and "wedding planning" will be pretty thoroughly on this list), my feelings tend to be more ephemeral. And ephemeral, not-so-serious thoughts are just great for crushing on someone, because it gives me a chance to be giddy and get out my newness fetish on them without worrying significantly about how I am going to restructure my life (even subtly) to make sure that person is always in it.

(Plus, my newness fetish -which is totally kinda a thing? Like, I pretty much always and forever have *someone* I've got NewToyEnergy or NewDesire for- works really well with time-limited relationships. Oh, you're mono and just waiting to find the one? Happy to play in the meantime!)

Anyways, I don't have anything else to say really. This is a pretty clear example of writing to suss out my own thoughts. Thanks for joining me.


1: It is to my moderate shock that I realize I won't date someone if I find their other partners difficult to deal with. This is a bit depressing --I tend to compartmentalize my relationships-- but I've seen enough variety in the last five years of being some sort of polybeast to note the differences between "you make my partner happy and that makes me happy keep making my partner happy YAY!" and "I hate your stupid face you homewrecking slutcookie"2. The latter kinda sucks, and the mutual partner has to work damn hard to make up for that sort of bullshit. I would prefer to save everyone the work by just not getting involved.

2: I thought briefly about putting in some actual (paraphrased) quotes/actions from various metamours in the past, but that would probably turn out mean, and I try not to be bitter or spiteful on livejournal. So these are extremes, neither of which I have actually explicitly heard or reached.

3: Not actually rigorous, certainly not a formal test.

4: Things that entertain me: One of my earlier partners and I were curled up platonic in a bed when they mentioned that they were into me, and I revealed that I was pretty into them. Something on the order of two hours later we actually got around to kissing. Sigh!

5: It pains me to note that, since exiting high school, I have very few people with whom I have enjoyed the same degree of closeness for more than a few years. I have had several very close friends6 (some of whom I termed best friend but none of whom quite matched up with Veronica), but I often tend to go for accidental months without communication towards the people I care about. This is a pretty major failing on my part and I don't know how to fix it. It frustrates me that I can have a year where I spend thousands of words on IM with someone, followed by a year where there is...nothing.

6: Since college, jere7my is probably the person who I have had the most consistent friendship with. He is absolutely one of my best friends in the world (because *someone* has to yell at me for not knowing songs that came out before I was born, and MrBelm is busy doing that for He-Who-Will-Not-Be-Ignored, I'm sure) and that's been pretty consistently true since I met him in early aught-eight.

7: Match the relationship to the person! No, do not really. Anyways, all three of these are people who I *love* getting to see again, and truly hope to stay in some touch with for the rest of time. But I'm not always as good as I should be about keeping in touch with them outside of those sporadic meetings, due to distance or time constraints or just plain ol' drift.
sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker-MOOP!)

Forget the money1. Because while I'm sitting here with four envelopes and four checks I'm also sitting here with four letters. Quick and long, handwritten and typed, one of them inscribed in a card that says "Happy Birthday" on the outside and "this is not a birthday card!" on the inside.

And they are all quick little notes from people who love me and want me to be happy. And I guys! I don't think I've cried this hard since Elanor was stolen, I just can't actually wrap my head around the fact that people give a shit about me, and then it happens from everyone, all at once.

I am clearly going to have to shift some paradigms around now. Something about maybe me being an okay person after all.

And I don't know what I'm going to do with all the letters once I've got them, but it's going to have to be something as amazing as they deserve. <3


1: Okay, please don't actually, because I am a practical person in addition to being a sentimental one, and bicycles are expensive. But goddamn, why doesn't everyone send each other letters saying how awesome we all are more often, because this feeling is flat out amazing.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
It's that awful moment when you realize two weeks has somehow turned into thirty-six hours.

Everything is unfair and I demand more time, but ah, that's how it always goes.

sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
Trigger warning: Emotional abuse, possibly touching on sexual abuse.

So, I was once in an emotionally abusive relationship, and it sucked.

One of the things that would happen was that I would upset them, and to make up for it, I would post loving things publicly on the internet. I would declare my love, to them or the world! Because it would make them feel better, it would make them understand that I really did love them, and I didn't mean to hurt them, and I'm very very sorry and I won't fuck up again, and please stop crying, and why am I so awful?

Seriously. If you're in an abusive relationship, do what you can to get the fuck out. I will help.

Now, the emotionally abusive part of the relationship lasted much longer than the relationship did, and so there was this one time when they decided to blackmail me. Either I would friends lock my entire livejournal and remove them from my friendslist (Note: They had already removed *me* from their friendslist --if they wanted to read my journal, they had to _go to the page themselves._ Apparently they weren't capable of not going to my page.) so they wouldn't see any posts about my new relationships, OR, they would tell mom that they and I had been doing some version of fucking.

I did the logical thing, and told mom that they and I had been doing some version of fucking. And that I was telling her specifically so I couldn't be blackmailed with it. I was very angry. Mom was far more understanding than I deserve sometimes.

I already hadn't really been talking about my relationships in my livejournal, because that seemed to be the sort of thing that would cause more drama. But this cemented it --despite not wanting them to control me, I even less wanted them to know that I was dating both the people they had accused me of cheating1 on them with. We were trying to be friends, you understand. I didn't want to hurt them any farther, after already damaging them so much. I am an awful person, you see. Cruel. Incapable of true love. A prude, and because of this, no one would ever want to date me.

1: I believe the closest I have ever come to cheating was when I said something offhand to one of my boys about another, and the first boy expressed confusion/shock in that he hadn't realized me and the latter were as intimate/involved as we were. I then explained the nature of the relationship, and it was all good. Also, that was not with the abusive ex.)

And so it was well over a year before I ever admitted in even the most casual sense that I had a new partner. And I never really put out a lot of squee, and in the time since, I've still not really put out a lot of squee about my partners. Lots of that is just from being older and more mature and not needing to be "OMGEE!" all the time like a giddy high schooler, but some of it is the lessons I have learned. You don't write about the people you are in love with --not just that. You don't do it because it will hurt other people2. You don't do it because it will hurt yourself, later, when you find the references. You don't do it because there is the memory of discomfort, of being forced, and you do not want anything to cross your brain that feels so slimy-wrong.

2: And admittedly, this is still a thing I worry about --if I post squee about one of my partners, must I then post squee about all the others? No. No, that is not how I want my relationships to be. If my loves cannot accept that I still love them, even when I am head-over-heels squeeing over a different love, then that is a problem, and something they and I should work on. So know the rest of you, that I mean no offense with this post, and that I still find you worth adoring.

But there's two ways to keep my brain from feeling slimy-wrong. One of them is to never ever be triggered again, by anything, and that's impossible. The other is to scar over the mental wounds. Wrap them in better memories, in better recollections. When I am triggered, I want to remember not what that one awful person did to me, but what all the lovely people who make me feel safe and special have done since.

So have something I do not do very often: A public, explicit(for I speak often in crypticism and generalities) declaration of love.

Sparr has moved to Boston. To be with me. And it will be weird and strange, and take work and practise and balancing. We will have to find what the right distance is to hold our introvert selves sane, while still being able to be together in a way that I've never had, not really.

I can't stop smiling.

I am in love. And he is in love, and we are in love. And while I've never believed in forever, not even at my youngest and most romantic, this is really good, and has only gotten better in the two years we've been together.

Everything is changing. I love you, Sparr mein leibling, and I look forward to what happens next.

I am no longer in abusive relationships. Things seem better this way.


Bi-directional trigger warnings are in this season: Emotional abuse, possibly touching on sexual abuse.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
A/N: This gets meandery. Sorry.

Sometimes I think society does not want me to show off that I am happy.

I get worried about being excited and squeeful about the simple adventures I have with the people I love. "And then we went to the science museum, and held hands as we watched the lightning show." is not a story in any artistic sense. There's no plot, no complication, no climax and denouement. He didn't have to change himself to get my love. I didn't have to create a wildly over-the-top romantic gesture. We are just two people who found each other, and then he was in town and we went to the science museum and held hands. And it made us happy.

And that's the important part. Our story doesn't have to play into the cynical stereotypes of miscommunication and drama that form the world's perception of how romantic relationships are "meant" to go. There is another boy I am with, who I have had almost eleven months of very intense NewToy energy with. We snuggle up to each other on the subway, and kiss each other on the head, the neck, the cheek. We tell each other how much we love, and how happy we are to be together. And I'm so fucking pleased as punch about this, and it takes a lot to not just constantly make squeeful posts about the lovely things we've been up to.

But why don't I? Because I get worried about being shmoopy, about being viewed as love-sick and silly. The world is cynical right now and we're trapped in a place where liking something genuinely is not as common as liking it ironically. Relationships especially, are all always doomed to fail. You will never just meet your One True Soulmate and true love isn't real, after all.

And okay, maybe some sort of true love everlasting isn't real, in the sense that you can't go out and instantly find it. But even if you can't find it, maybe you can make it. Time and energy and trust. Respect and support. Being patient enough to find the connections, and wait when you have to, until everything is able to work out. Maybe we are shmoopy, not from some magic of having found the right person, but from some combination of time and patience and love. We have worked together to create a wonderful relationship, and fuckit, why *shouldn't* I be pleased as punch about that?

Sometimes I get worried about wanting to be shmoopy. Romance and Practicality sit on my shoulders some days, and argue like the devils and angels of yore. The argument makes my touches shy, my posture withdrawn, silencing the words I'd rather spill. "I love you" is too silly to say to some boys, when what is love anyways but a complicated chemical reaction, lacking sense or reason.

But you know what? In all the cases of silence, in all the places where I worry of narrative strength, or cynicism, or reason? Fuck the haters. I am happy and they are happy and we are happy together.

And there's not a single thing the world can do about that.

sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)

Read this post.

Then look at this picture )

I am so happy I am shaking. Sure, it's just a thing, but I like things, and it is a thing that is no longer Lost Forever, which is...rare and beautiful.

And the first person to smugly point out that generally when one cleans their room, one finds things will get shot with my crossbow.

sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)


So, on my way to the Regency Assembly, I lost my white collared shirt. This is a pain in the ass, but not the end of the world --it's hard to find white button-down shirts in my size, but not impossible.

In my costume putting-together the night before, I had tucked a little red duct tape rose into the pocket of that shirt --it's not visible in any of the pictures, just a little something for myself. In scouring my room for that rose, I realize...I don't think I ever took it out of the pocket of my shirt.


I'm tryin' real hard not to start crying. Happy morning, everyone. :/


ETA 2010-12-15: Oh! This story has a happy ending!
sorcyress: xkcd panel with a single character alone at the computer and the text "Some nights, typing *hug* just doesn't cut it." (xkcd hug)
Of all the ways to be fucked up, I really really wish I didn't have so much trouble dealing with the fact that sometimes people want to be kind to me, without expecting or requiring kindness in return.

Attention is hard, sex is hard, support is hard, gifts are hard, friendship is hard.

And love? Love is damn near impossible.

sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker-MOOP!)
Some sundries that I have found entertaining lately:

*Jane Austen's Fight Club is the current best thing on YouTube. Cosplaying Fanny might just be enough to get me into a Regency gown. Pass the bruise make-up, please. (Warning, a little violent, girls hitting girls. It's fight club with Regency dresses.)

*A Skeptic's View of Love, which should be required reading for everyone that gets all moony about the fact that, when you meet your TWOO WUV FOREVER, you will instantly be in love with them and that's that.

I honestly find it *more* romantic to consider that good relationships are not based on some emphereal concept of a soulmate (hint: I have yet to find someone who meets all my myriad and occasionally contradicting needs --if I have a soulmate, I have not yet met them) as much as they are based on shared experiences and revealing the hidden layers of yourself to your partner. But I'm far more practical than romantic, most days.

*Superheroes vs the Westb*r* B*ptist Ch*rch --from Comicon, so you've probably already seen it.

*Legend of Neil has started its third season! Decidedly NSFW, but fairly hilarious regardless! For the unknowing, it's a web-series that consists of this dude Neil transported himself into the game "Legend of Zelda" somehow. And by somehow, like I said, NSFW. It's funny, and stars Felicia Day as the fairy, and I'm glad they got their third season, since I really like web-based media.

And one last that I'm hiding under the cut for being textually, um...risque. )


sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Two years ago today, it was 2007. I had spent the weekend in Maryland. I flew home, then got on the train, and ended up at Porter Square station. If I dig through my e-mail, I can guess the time to be somewhere between ten thirty and eleven at night.

Porter Square has a lot of escalators. I was exhausted, and worn out, and just wanted to leave the station and walk back to my dorm.

And so I left the station. And stepped into a Cambridge dusted with snow, one that muted the sound of cars on Mass Ave, and swallowed people away, since no one would want to be out on a night like this. And so, when I left the station, I was essentially alone, standing there in a world becoming increasingly covered with snow.

And for just a short moment, my heart sang out.


sorcyress: xkcd panel with a single character alone at the computer and the text "Some nights, typing *hug* just doesn't cut it." (xkcd hug)
Eight words, he gave me.

Eight words, written in pen, on an index card. With a date, and a signature.

Tucked into an alcove not far from Looney Labs, at Origins this year. Which, let's face it, honestly kinda sucked, and sure, there were games and there was fun, and people I don't get to see very often, but it sucked, and I spent an awful lot of time getting out of the way of the rest of the world and crying.

But somehow he figured out that that was happening, and caught me alone and made me tell and held me. I don't get held very often, not when I need it, and every time it happens it is the most wondrous and kind and loving gesture in the world, and the idea that someone would be willing to give that to me is often not an idea that can actually be believed, not at all.

And he held me, and he wrote eight words, and he gave them to me. And with them, he gave me something I need sometimes --the memory of someone who cares. The memory of someone who not only cares, but cares enough to leave his other social obligations behind for a bit, because somehow he knows I'm not able to ask him to leave them.

(Because I'm not able to ask him to leave them. I'm not ever able to ask anyone to leave their other friends, lovers, family for me, even for a moment. They have just a much of a right to your time, maybe more, and I can't go to the two of you and ask just for one.)

So it's that hug, and it's another hug, from later in the visit. In my bedroom, curled on my bed, and letting me confess the secrets the secrets that I don't confess, not ever, and certainly not in person, without barriers and barriers of words and screens and keyboards between us to protect me. It's two hugs, and it's eight words.

And I think maybe that might be enough for me to know I'll be okay. I'm crying now, I'll probably BE crying for a while still, and damned if I've an idea why. I'm not okay, I'm not even stable. I'm sure as hell not happy. But two hugs means I can pretend to a lifetime more, and eight words means I am loved.

And I think that means it'll all work out in the end.


On biting

Jul. 20th, 2009 12:44 am
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
That's twice in the past thirty-six hours that I've wanted to bite someone gently, as a way of indicating "mine"

It's something I've done for a while now. Biting things is how I claim them as my own. CD's, books, comics, art --if I get something new and utterly fantastic, my response is often to bite one of the corners lightly, not even so hard as to mark it. But hard enough.

With people, it's never an exclusive claiming, of course. Even were I *not* poly, it would not be an exclusive claiming --owning people, and the prospect of being owned both frighten me. But sometimes, the affection and the love wells up in such a way that I do feel in some manner possessive. And so my automatic thought is to bite, lightly, and on the shoulder generally.

It's definitely a light and gentle sort of biting. While I can and sometimes do bite to hurt (both myself and others, always *with* consent, thanks) that's a very *very* different sort of biting, for a different sort of situation. Possession bites are not ever meant to hurt, even in a good way. They are my way of saying you are a friend, you are family, you are nakama, you are part of Mine, and at this moment, I feel particularly close to you, whether you realize it or not.

Of course, I have only a very limited subset of the world that I can do that to -casual biting is not really encouraged in formal circles, or even informal ones, and among those I think of as Mine, not all of them are bite-friendly. But maybe I should start again. A subtle little kiss, with teeth, a way to say in actions what I can't always work out in words.

I find it amusing that I already have a tag for this sort of entry...

sorcyress: xkcd panel with a single character alone at the computer and the text "Some nights, typing *hug* just doesn't cut it." (xkcd hug)
I have a bit of a mama bear complex.

Which is to say, if you touch my cubs, I *will* hurt you, however possible. Words, or physically, or however I can. And being made helpless, unable to protect those I think of as is among my least favourite things in the world.

My "cubs" are quite a lot of people, too. Alys, Veronica -those are the most obvious ones, and the ones I am absolutely most protective of. But when it comes down to it, pretty much all my contract mates, definitely everyone I think of as an older or younger sister, my roommates, Nik, the high school friends I'm still close to, the college friends I've made, the entire pie shop...You hurt someone I care about, and I will not be happy with you.

The problem, and I actually find it a very interesting one, comes when two of my cubs are fighting, or one of them is (inadvertently or purposely) causing another to be hurt. Who do I protect? Do I just ignore them both publicly and support each of them in private1? Do I go ahead and bitch out the offending party, despite caring dearly for them? Do I curl up in a hole and hope the whole thing goes away?

This doesn't really have anything to do with anything. I largely just find it an interesting thing to ponder. On the one hand, I don't care for the idea of "ranking" friends, and of course, all rankings would be situational, anyways. (If Alys punched...say...Emily in the stomach, I'd tell Alys she's an idiot, despite normally considering her more my cub than Emily. Though it occurs to me I'd probably be gentler on Alys than I would on Emily were their positions reversed.)

On the other...well...there are people I am more protective of than others --not necessarily closer friends, but people I feel it's more important I take care of, often because I tend to consider them mentally younger, and more in need of my protection. (And let me tell you, it is startling as all fuck when they do something that illustrates that they are actually a lot older than they necessarily seem.)



1: Yes. I can say with some confidence that this is the route I took with the strongest example of two people I quite like and care for being stupid to each other.
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
This morning, sitting in the sun, the beautiful Georgia belle shivers. "She's cold!" her boyfriend teases as I approach. I do what I find logical, and drape my coat across her shoulders.

"You're such a sweet boyfriend" she says to me in jest. I smile outwardly, sharing the joke, while something inside of me whimpers. I can't always get what I want, but if I try sometimes, I wind up with a friend instead, and that's just as good.

(Just as good)

This evening, chatting during an event. She mentions to her roommate she'll be home at ten. "Not if I kidnap you!" I threaten, trying to keep any tone but friendship out of my voice.

"I might not mind that" she flirts back, and be it outwardly or inwardly, I wince.

So I warn her. "You better be careful, I might start taking you seriously." She laughs, and we discuss for a moment our addictions to flirting. The night trails off; we part ways.

Maybe all I do want is flirting. To court a beautiful woman, treat her in the chivalrous way all people are meant to be treated. Maybe I want more.

Summer's coming soon. We'll see what happens with the fall.


Lemon Cake

Apr. 13th, 2009 05:10 pm
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
Scene opens on a bake sale, a long table covered in goodies. Two women approach, one, older, dedicated to supporting the cause. The other, merely curious, trying to learn what's going on.

The girl behind the table turns to the younger. "Would you like anything? It's for a good cause!"

The younger woman stammers, blushing slightly "I'm sorry, I would, but I don't have my wallet..."

"What do you want?" the older woman asks, kindly. She is holding a five dollar bill, offering it to the stranger.

"What, really?" In response, the older woman nods. She was planning to give the money all to the cause anyways. What does it hurt her if fifty cents or a dollar get used on this lost little teenager.

The younger woman gets a slice of lemon cake. The older woman buys oatmeal raisin cookies, and pays for them both. "Keep the change" she says to the girl behind the table.

"Thank you." the younger woman says, taking her cake. The older woman smiles, and they part ways.

It's only later that the younger woman realizes just why she's so flabbergasted --she's spent so much time trying to be nice to other people, that she's forgotten what it feels like when someone's nice to her.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)

So, just after the xkcd meet-up, I joined the xkcd forum for a while. Out of it, I wound up making a friend, Phi, who I talked to for a while on IM, before eventually losing track. Oh well.

So yeah. I don't think I've talked to him in more than a year. He IMs me today, which is pretty cool, because, hey, geek.

3:43:42 AM Phi: So, first things first, really.
3:43:59 AM Phi: I kind of wanted to thank you for being like the first person I talked to outside of xkcd on the interbutts.
3:44:06 AM Mostly Just Sor: Haha
3:44:08 AM Mostly Just Sor: Okay!
3:44:15 AM Phi: Beecause this led to me wanting to hop into some chatroom.
3:44:20 AM Phi: Which led to me meeting one of the mods.
3:44:28 AM Phi: Which led to me dating her for now over a year! \o/

I ee'd. Because seriously. Awww. And it is *all* kinds of warmfuzzy to know that that was my fault.

sorcyress: xkcd panel with a single character alone at the computer and the text "Some nights, typing *hug* just doesn't cut it." (xkcd hug)
Five years ago today.

Five beautiful
years ago today.

It was 2004.

Two girls, having met on an internet forum, have stepped into a private chatroom to get to know each other just a little better. Obviously, something had been going right on the forum proper, for them to add this level of intimacy to their interactions. Acquaintances were poised to become friends.

Chatting occurred with increasing frequency, neither having something better to do than to spill out their words to someone nearly three thousand miles away. Then, it was January 30th, 2004. The words spilled out, and the similarities mounted.

Until they reached the breaking point. In a moment of silliness, one labelled the other as a clone. As her clone. Within months, it had been determined that they were, in fact, clones of each other, and subsequently grew closer almost than any two humans ought to be.

Three years and three months after that fateful Recognition, for the very first time, they embraced. Just over nine months later, for the first time, they kissed. Add to that a relationship almost at the mark of it's thirteenth month, and you bring us to now. Five years.

[ profile] artemisfowl2nd has been my clone for more than a quarter of my life. Though we've only spent 51 days in the same place together, not a day goes by where I don't think of her, and not a week passes where we don't talk. I am more open with my darker parts with her than I would ever want to be with anyone else, and feel I know her better than anyone else she confides in.

And although we don't focus so much on the clone thing anymore, I still find so much of my brain unnecessary to explain, so many of her words making just perfect sense. It is the great cruelty of my life that we were dropped on opposite coasts by whichever fate arranged us.

But it is still among life's greatest joys that we still managed to find each other, and Find each other, ~2700 miles and three time zones apart.

I love you, dearest.

sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
A/N: The events and things and thoughts and feelings leading up to this particular thoughtstream have been sorted out and reasoned with and talked over and etc. In short, please don't read too deeply into this post, I'm not trying to put it out there as a hint to anyone*, it is merely some words that I think sound good strung together.


friendship privileges )


**This may be less true than I think. I'm not sure how body shy I am at the moment, it tends to vary across a long range, even within the same people.
***Well, technically, I don't want to stoink anybody. Replace with snog/date/pet as appropriate.

Not private because I'm better than that.
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
"Are you alright?"
"I am more then alright. I am extrodinary. I am to be reckoned with. I am...the next ambassador to FRANCE!"

From approximately 6:45 to 8:00 this morning, I was Perfect.

It was the most beautiful morning of my entire life.



sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Katarina Whimsy

September 2017

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