[ this is a much more complicated conversation than this part of the heart is prepared to handle through an avatar that can only bark / say its own name. :| HOWEVER, the 'mon is paying very close attention to the words he's saying, and in particular, it's ears seem to perk wit interest at the last full sentence.
You feel better with both the menorah and the tea bag safely tucked away. ]
( somehow it's easier to talk like this? when there's no feedback. )
After my heart was visited, I don't know. I felt different. I was able to see things a little bit more clearly, I guess? I mean, I think with you too that I was able to stop deciding how stuff should be? I think. . . For Yuu, while I still love him and I'll always love him . . . I can't burden anyone with these feelings. It's too much, right? So, I've been. . . keeping it to myself. But it's still sad because I'd like a reality where we'd work and things could be happy. He was a good boyfriend. He stayed with me at night most of the time and I'd just listen to the sound of his heart beat. It was nice. He made me feel special all the time.
( laughing a little. )
But. I was holding him back. He needs to do some dangerous and scary stuff with no fear or remorse and I just wanted to keep him safe. It's so stupid. He wanted me to come back home with him and even if I could leave everyone behind—and you know I couldn't—I'd always try to hold him back and stop him from who he needs to be. His world was falling apart and he's an important part of fixing all that even if his mortality is questionable. I can't damn his entire world just because I want to hold onto him for as long as I can. And I don't know.
I'm not sure if this is something I should tell you. You're holding in so much hurt already. You don't need mine.
[ there is no judgment, no freak out. no extra heaviness or coldness to indicate that the heart has been hurt. if anything, there's a feeling of warmth, heady and nourishing, as the dog-mon reaches out and holds your hand at the end--a quiet, soothing kind of presence of simply being there ]
[ it's not a waste of time!!! the room's temperature fluctuates wildly at that remark, but nothing impedes him from doing what he's setting out to do.
each object, however, is going to produce a memory, and a feeling of heaviness: As the pen, less so. (At least I was able to tell him how I feel.); with the tiny bricks, the weight is joined with confusion(What happened? They seemed fine...), but worst is the innocuous, tiny hat, which leaves you feeling exceptionally heavier, perhaps a little distraught, even: I wish he hadn't gone back to that. Was there something more I could have done? Offered him a home? ]
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You feel better with both the menorah and the tea bag safely tucked away. ]
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After my heart was visited, I don't know. I felt different. I was able to see things a little bit more clearly, I guess? I mean, I think with you too that I was able to stop deciding how stuff should be? I think. . . For Yuu, while I still love him and I'll always love him . . . I can't burden anyone with these feelings. It's too much, right? So, I've been. . . keeping it to myself. But it's still sad because I'd like a reality where we'd work and things could be happy. He was a good boyfriend. He stayed with me at night most of the time and I'd just listen to the sound of his heart beat. It was nice. He made me feel special all the time.
( laughing a little. )
But. I was holding him back. He needs to do some dangerous and scary stuff with no fear or remorse and I just wanted to keep him safe. It's so stupid. He wanted me to come back home with him and even if I could leave everyone behind—and you know I couldn't—I'd always try to hold him back and stop him from who he needs to be. His world was falling apart and he's an important part of fixing all that even if his mortality is questionable. I can't damn his entire world just because I want to hold onto him for as long as I can. And I don't know.
I'm not sure if this is something I should tell you. You're holding in so much hurt already. You don't need mine.
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1/2
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( letting go of the dog's hand to pet him appreciatively on the head. then he's going for the last items: legos, a pen, and a blue fez hat. )
Let's get all this stuff up.
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each object, however, is going to produce a memory, and a feeling of heaviness: As the pen, less so. (At least I was able to tell him how I feel.); with the tiny bricks, the weight is joined with confusion (What happened? They seemed fine...), but worst is the innocuous, tiny hat, which leaves you feeling exceptionally heavier, perhaps a little distraught, even: I wish he hadn't gone back to that. Was there something more I could have done? Offered him a home? ]