I (36f) am on the dating apps and consider myself pretty ”normal”. I have a good job with a good income, people think that I am a nice person and I get to hear that I am pretty.
This example that happened now: I have texted one guy on a dating app in two weeks. We sent one message each everyday. The plan was to meet up the passed sunday. He was on vacation in another country so I was waiting for him to come home….
On friday I asked if we could speak on phone on saturday before we meet (it makes me feel safer to talk ro the guy on the phone before the date). He suggested we talk at 2 pm and I sade I was busy then and suggested 11 am which he agreed on.
Saturday comes and one hour before our scheduled phone call he tells me he feels sick and can’t speak on the phone nor meet me tomorrow. Meanwhile the wheather is beautiful and I can see by the distance that he is not home and that the distance keep changing during the day. I text him that it is ok and that I hope he feels better, but that I want us to pause the texting until we speak on phone or meet IRL. He gets annoyed by this. I explaine I have an experience from the past of texting much with guys without it leding to a date or meeting the guy and there were no chemistry. He says he understands. Past forward three days and he have delete me without a word…..
This is pretty much the story of my life most of the time on the dating apps. The texting goes well but they don’t want to meet me. Can you please help me? Am I doing anything wrong? I feel like I’m the option to this guys and that they seem to get other offers. I feels so sad now and worried I am doing something wrong…..
On my bio it says I’m only looking for something serious and that I want children in the feauture. Am I scarying guys away or do I seem boring because of this? This particular guy was 41 years.
Please no mean comments, I am already feeling down

TW: brief mentions of depression, suicidal ideation, and attempted suicide
When I (28F) was growing up, I was the golden child of the family. I didn't know it back then. Up until I was in high school I had a younger sister and an older half sister I only saw a few times a year. It wasn't like I never got in trouble or got yelled at, in fact I have a very vivid and hurtful memory where I was called a liar by my parents when I was being 100% truthful (they just didn't want to hear it and wanted someone to be mad at I guess), and then I was told to just "suck it up and get over it". But compared to my younger sister, who was compared to me in every way, I always had the perfect grades, perfect attitude, perfect behavior, etc. Our parents, especially our mother, who was the main parent taking care of us during the week, pretty much pitted us against each other constantly. My little sister was being told she needed to be more like me, and I was told my sister was a bad kid. I would try to help her stay out of trouble as a kid and would get mad when she didn't listen to me because i didnt understand she was just being herself and didn't need to be exactly like me. Up until college, I didn't understand that my sister didn't need to change, she needed her parents to love her as she was and help her instead of trying to mold her into some ideal of perfection. We were picked apart constantly about every little thing we did, and I was expected to always somehow know everything even if I'd never learned it before. My house was full of constant yelling due to the extremely high expectations and my mother's terrible temper, and it became a very stressful place to be starting when i was around 10. We went through a lot of financial hardships as well since I was very young, so I dont want to dismiss how hard things were for my parents and how much they went through. But I have always been hyper aware of how much it costs for me to exist as my mom stressed so many times over the years that she couldn't afford to buy even a new shirt because she had to buy stuff for us, as if that was at all our fault.
When i was in high school, my baby brother was born. He pretty much instantly became the new golden child, not only because he was the youngest and the only boy, but because it became clear at a very young age how intelligent he is. I was a straight A honors kid and he was blowing me out of the water since he learned to read. I didn't mind at all because 1) I was going to be going to college in a couple years, and 2) with our age difference, he was as much my son as my brother, and I took on a very loving parental role with him of my own volition. I also saw the promise in him and I wanted him to live a happy life. My little sister and him are very close to this day, at least to my knowledge. During this time they were still coming down really hard on my little sister, treating her as well as they always had - meaning they still yelled at her constantly and were overly critical of her and everything she even thought about doing. They talked about sending her to military school more than once, and pretty much resigned themselves to the idea my sister would never be able to live on her own before she even got to high school, let alone graduated.
Flash forward to when I was in college, I started coming home and noticing things about how my parents treated my sister, and for the first time I saw it for how terrible it was for her. The distance and time I spent away from the house helped my little sister and I completely change our relationship by my second or third year. What really solidified it was a series of events that happened my junior and senior years of college.
My sister moved to our town with her husband with their 2 very young boys, and we soon found out she was pregnant with twins. That is kind of where it all began to fall apart. Time showed not only that her husband is a massive pos, but also potentially abusive, although we never got concrete proof. As my sister's pregnancy progressed and they struggled to get on their feet, my parents started watching my nephews for hours at a time, sometimes the whole day. And if my parents had to babysit out of nowhere and put their lives on hold, me and my younger siblings were expected to do the same. No toys, no books, no games - nothing. Essentially, the entire house was expected to babysit in a way that i have been told wasn't normal. Even my little brother was expected to take on this role in caring for kids who were only a couple years younger than him. I spent my entire childhood taking care of my little sister and then my baby brother, and I hated seeing how they were doing the same to him when me and my little sister were at the age where it shouldve been left up to us. I started really butting heads with my parents as the situation progressed because they started yelling at my baby brother when the boys would even bump their heads even though it wasnt his fault. He never mistreated them, hit them, pushed them , or anything, so my parents justified it by saying he wasn't being a "good uncle" by "letting them" bump their heads on the tv stand, for example. He was expected to let them play with all of his toys, and my mom tried letting the boys use things that were very important to my brother, which would've ended up with the boys taking those things home. Saying it that way makes it sound a lot more mild that it was, but I'm trying to save time and not give out too many personal details. I guess you could say in short, my parents began expecting my elementary school age brother to give up his time, his space, his toys, his gifts - anything that meant anything to him, to help care for children when he was still a child not much older than them. I ended up giving my baby brother my room to not only keep his stuff in, but to sleep in.
In the end, my sister had the twins and then moved back to her home state about 6 months later. We think her no good husband lied to her about us and she cut contact with all of us, and we haven't heard from her since. In our house, the damage was done. I had long conversations with my little sister when our parents weren't around about how she needed to get out because of how they were treating her, and how I would eventually graduate and move to a city where I could find a job. But neither of us wanted to leave our little brother in that house because we were worried how they would treat him when we both left. Our parents had already proven they would throw any of us to the side at any second, even their golden child baby boy, and blame even him for anything that went wrong. Our parents have a history of spilling all our business at any holiday meal and badmouthing any little mistake. They would talk shit about us in front of us and shame us in front of family our entire lives, and if my sister and i weren't there to take the brunt of it, how long until they turned on my baby brother. Would they even wait until he wasn't "perfect" anymore?
Throughout all of this, I was struggling a lot in college, and starting around junior year i became very depressed and suicidal, which resulted in a major attempt in my 5th year of college, which to this day i don't like talking about. Before that, however, I went to my mom about feeling depressed and told her i thought i needed to talk to someone. She brushed me off. I was dumb enough to think that maybe she thought i was exaggerating, so i tried a second time to ask her for help about a year later, and she brushed me off again. Part of me blames her almost entirely for my attempts, because i came to her before any of them because i knew thats where it was headed if i didnt get help. All she had to do was make a couple phone calls to find me someone to talk to and she couldn't even do that for me. I was a scared girl who needed her mom's help because i didnt know who to turn to, and she turned her back on me. After my final attempt, I pulled myself up and got help, but my financial aid ran out and I was unable to return to school and finish my degree, so I went back to my parents house and was absolutely miserable for the next 6 months. I felt like a failure, like I wasn't "perfect" like i was supposed to be. I felt suffocated every single day and like the only ones who wanted me there were my siblings. One day I tried a little experiment and sat in the living room with my mom for the entire day and she didn't say one single word to me, didnt even acknowledge my existence. Ever since the stuff with my nephews happened, I had doubled my efforts to protect my siblings and take the brunt of my mom's anger, so I pushed back a lot when they tried to get onto my siblings for ridiculous things. I ended up ghosting my friends for 3 months because I was so depressed, and it really scared them. It was then I knew i had to get out of that house or it would kill me, so I moved into my grandparents' house a town over.
Things at my grandparents' house started okay, and i was even able to confide in them what had been going on at my parents' house, which in the end turned out to be a big mistake. I got a job working overnight at a retail store and met the guy who is now my boyfriend of 3 years. Unfortunately, the longer i spent at my grandparents' house the more i saw where my mom got it from, and they ended up treating me just as bad as what was going on at my parents' house. The only difference was that my sister wasn't there so i was taking the brunt of all of it. When things started getting tough for them after my grandpa retired, instead of sitting down with me like an adult and asking if it would contribute financially, my grandpa cornered me in the car when he was driving me back from work and guilted money out of me with a sob story. And guilted me at the dinner table the second time when they needed more money. One time i walked in the house after work and before i had even taken my shoes off or put my purse down to get my wallet out, he blocked the door to my room with his hand out like a loan shark to give him the money. I payed for all my own expenses, took short showers and kept as many lights off as i could, and told them not to buy me anything, even food. And in the end, even though they guilted me for money, then more money, and promised they wouldnt kick me out, they sold the house out from under me when they knew i was still trying to save for an apartment with what little money i had left a month. I ended up having to live with my best friend and her husband or i wouldve been homeless. I still helped them move even when they f-ed me over. And even after all that, I still went to holidays and visited my parents from time to time.
The last time i saw my grandparents they ran into me and my best friend in a store. My grandpa saw me first (he and my grandma were in different parts of the store), and starting yelling at me for pretty much cutting them off since i hadn't been to see them for months, and then when he started realizing he looked like the bad guy tried to make the reason i stopped talking to them about politics (i live in a conservative area) as if that would justify it. When my friend and i were trying to grab one last thing before we left because i was humiliated and trying not to cry, my grandma cornered me at the deli counter, had me pinned between the counter and a cart so i couldn't leave, and started yelling at me too. I was so broken back then, but i tried to tell both of them i would talk to them but not in the store. They just wanted to scream so we left. I haven't spoken to them since and have no plans to.
Eventually i moved 2 hours away back to the city i had went to college in. During that time, my grandparents drove the 3 hours to try to find where i lived, and then called trying to get me to come downstairs. I was asleep for work at the time but it made me feel so uncomfortable that they would do that. And after living there a year and my bf and i commuting to visit each other every other week, it came to the point where if i wanted our relationship to continue i had to move back. This is not something he ever brought up to me, this was a decision I came to on my own. So two years ago I moved back to the area I grew up in. We live an hour away from my hometown and 30 minutes away from the town i met my boyfriend in. And although he has family in both areas that we visit, I haven't seen or really talked to my parents or siblings since i initially moved out of the area.
A year ago, after a year of silence from me and from my parents, I dropped a box off at my parents' house when they weren't home with souvenirs i got them on vacation when i first moved back, short letters to each of them about the gifts, and a long video letter on a flash drive explaining everything I felt because i knew i couldn't go on without being honest and i knew if i tried to have a conversation in person, they wouldn't listen to me. I told them i wanted to keep them in my life but i couldn't ignore everything that had happened and the ways they treated me and my younger siblings. I told them i had no interest in continuing a relationship with my grandparents and that anything they have told them probably wasnt true. I sent them scans of my diaries as "proof" that i wasn't lying because that's the kind of house i grew up in - if you couldnt prove it, it didnt happen. I laid myself completely bare so that i could heal, knowing the whole time they may never want to speak to me again. I gave them pictures of me and my boyfriend and my new phone number anyway. The only thing i didn't give them was my address because we live on his family's land and his family, knowing a bit about my family and also about my grandparents essentially stalking me, don't want anyone from my family nosing around on the property. I don't want that either so i agreed not to give it out. The people in my life who knew about the box and the letter turned video letter were supportive of the idea given all i had been through, and I thought dropping it off would be the end of things.
Since then, I have healed from everything that has happened. I'm still angry and sad and i feel like I'm grieving every day, but I'm not the spineless, scared girl i used to be. My boyfriend has helped me become a better person in so many ways. But i still miss my family, especially my dad. I feel like he didnt deserve what i've done for reasons i cant go into, because the reality is he depends a lot on what my mom tells him because he works, and he trusts her deeply. I feel like in some regards he depended too much on her word, although he isnt completely innocent. There's obviously a lot more to my story that what I have here or else I'd be writing an autobiography, but just know if this all sounds like it isn't a big deal, I have so many stories and so much more detail that isn't safe to give out here.
The reality is my parents and i pushed each other away until we all became strangers long before everything blew up. I felt like a stranger from the time i left for college. I was made to feel like if i wasn't at home, i was a second thought, and a lot of very serious issues happened while i was away that i didnt find out about until i came home. My last year of college i was physically starving and could only afford to eat one meal a day if that. When i had left for school at the beginning of that school year my mother made it clear i had to figure it all out myself because they had no money to give me, but then i came home for Christmas and everyone but me had all new electronics. I cried asking for money to buy my uniform to start my campus job but they bought all new computers and tablets. And that stung.
Last Christmas, my parents and siblings messaged me. It was the first time I had heard from them since before i dropped off the box. It was just a Merry Christmas, but it absolutely shocked me. And then they all messaged again on my birthday. Same thing, just little pleasantries, but it makes me feel like maybe that door isn't closed. However, I have absolutely no idea if we can move forward, if they want to, or even if its a good idea to try. I have struggled a lot since college about whether or not all of this and everything I wasn't able to share here is or is not a big deal. I've had people close to me listen to my whole story and call it emotional neglect and abuse, but I just don't know. I feel crazy most of the time, and I'm afraid I'm exaggerating or making it up for attention or something, which also doesn't make sense. I struggle a lot in my day to day. I am ruled by the emotions of those around me and i cower like a kicked puppy when people around me are upset, even if its not my fault. I get ashamed when i make a mistake or i'm not "perfect", and if my feelings are valid I have no idea if it would be a good idea to get back in touch. But i think about if/when my boyfriend and i get married, and how i have no family to sit on my side. It sometimes feels like it's my fault because i wasn't strong enough to just shut up and deal with it anymore. At this point I dont know what is the right answer, what's going to finally give me peace. For now, I just keep moving forward trying to build a better life with my boyfriend and hope all the pieces will fall into place later.

The main issue is despite building what I thought was a mid/higher end PC, I am facing great stuttering problems in games. For Elden ring and cyberpunk for example, my fps drops to around 30 regularly, and 15 on occasion.
Build list:

Type	Item	Price
CPU	AMD Ryzen 5 7600 3.8 GHz 6-Core Processor	$185.00 @ Newegg
Motherboard	ASRock B650 Steel Legend WiFi ATX AM5 Motherboard	-
Memory	Corsair Vengeance 32 GB (2 x 16 GB) DDR5-5600 CL36 Memory	$113.99 @ Amazon
Storage	Samsung 980 Pro 2 TB M.2-2280 PCIe 4.0 X4 NVME Solid State Drive	$169.99 @ Amazon
Video Card	MSI VENTUS 3X OC GeForce RTX 4070 Ti 12 GB Video Card	$781.33 @ Amazon
Case	Fractal Design North ATX Mid Tower Case	$139.99 @ Amazon
Power Supply	Corsair RM750x (2021) 750 W 80+ Gold Certified Fully Modular ATX Power Supply	$99.99 @ Amazon
Prices include shipping, taxes, rebates, and discounts
Total	$1490.29
Generated by PCPartPicker 2024-05-15 03:21 EDT-0400

Previously tried solutions:
Update Bios
Update chipset drivers
Update Nvidia graphics card drivers
Select max number of processors in system configuration
Select 4070ti card for global settings in Nvidia control panel
Select unlimted shaders cache in Nvidia control panel
Turn on Image Scaling in Nvidia control panel
Re-install windows
enable XMP in Bios
I've sunk a good chunk of money into this so I'd really like to get more than 30fps stable on this system, otherwise I just would've bought a cheaper pre-built.
Thank you in advance to anyone who takes the time to help me!

He just dropped a new special and its wild, I think maybe something most here would enjoy. If you are familiar with him, you know how funny and chaotic this man is. Not only is he a comedian, but he is an artist. For example, watch his short film titled Mask. Could be a good fit? Please, with peace and love, be nice to me.

I know it was your first relationship. At 28, you had already been through so much, having been on your own for 13 years. You were forced to grow up too fast, and had to prioritize yourself, building a life from nothing. I get it. It was your fierce independence that made me fall for you in the first place.
I always knew that trying to build a life with you was going to be a struggle. I thought it would be worth it, for both of us. You deserve to have someone in your corner, that always has your back. You shouldn’t have to be alone. I don’t know if you believed the same.
I think I gave up too much of myself for you. Was that my mistake or yours? Did you really ask for too much, or did I give too freely without expectation for anything in return? Maybe both. Probably more on me. I’m not perfect by a long shot.
Compromise. It really does all come down to that. I tried to show you its importance, but in the process I ended up being the only one willing to do it. Me getting to pick what movie we watched or getting to plan a date became something I only got to do on special occasions. You said you felt like you didn’t know me, but so many times in so many ways I offered up little pieces of me to you. I share myself by sharing the things I love with the people I love. But more and more towards the end, all you’d say was “no”. Ignoring any context. Ignoring those pieces of me.
I know you don’t like movies about kids. I know asking to watch Home Alone during Christmas was a big ask. But it was a tradition that I shared with my dad, who I lost just over a year before. I know you think that traditions are pointless, but it was important to me. My earliest memories are of that. I needed to continue on, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it alone. I needed you there, your support. It was such a small gesture I was asking of you, but all I got was “no”. Instead we watched a movie you picked: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. A movie made by the exact same people that made Home Alone, and with even more kids.
We wanted to go to Ireland. Personally I’ve been wanting to go for years, but couldn’t because of my dad’s illness along with everything else going on. You knew that in the last 3 years I lost all of my grandparents, two uncles, my dad. I couldn’t risk going so far away for so long while everyone was sick. My mom saw me giving up the latter half of my 20s for my family, when she was hoping I would be enjoying life and seeing the world. That’s why she was happy to give us the money to have the trip of our dreams. I explained all of this to you while you were struggling to find a way to save for the trip. All my mom wanted in return was a single nice photo of us. That wasn’t even a requirement for the money. She just wanted to see me with the person that I love making our dreams come true. I know you hate having your picture taken. The only attention your dad ever gave you was when he wanted to test a new camera. It’s a trauma trigger. But I was only asking for one picture. You’d compromise for your friends, you’d compromise for your sister. You’d take pictures with them. Why wouldn’t you compromise for your partner, and the other most important person in your partners life? After a year, we have 3 pictures together, none of which are very good. I know that I was asking for a lot, but I felt so less important than everyone else in your life. Maybe you felt that as your partner, I was to be held to a higher standard? I honestly don’t know. All you said was “no”.
You admitted yourself I was so supportive. I always prioritized you. From always making your tea before mine, to giving you the better looking plate at dinner, to planting all of your favorite flowers in my garden. I always complemented you, how smart you are, how beautiful you are, how driven and independent you are. Your friend needed a ride to a 5k and someone to cheer them on? I was there. You needed someone to drive you around while your car was in the shop for 2 months? No problem. Accidentally overdrew your account again, and you couldn’t afford the late fees? Here’s $50. Need to move on short notice? I’m the guy tearing apart and moving your furniture. You have a migraine so bad you can’t eat? I’m bringing you pedialyte and sleeping on your couch, even though I didn’t actually get any sleep. I learned all your rituals so not to trigger your OCD. There are countless other examples. I never said no. I never complained. You rarely said so much as “thank you”.
The big one. The thing that ended us. You’re right, we did sit down like adults time and time again and talked things out. You said you needed me to anticipate your needs. You’d get overwhelmed, and couldn’t articulate what you needed from me. You couldn’t stand being asked what you needed. You just needed me to start helping. “Mental loads” and all that. I took that to heart. But I’m not perfect. Sometimes I’d miss the mark. Tried to support you, but in the wrong way. Even in my failures I showed effort, but you never seemed to see that. You only focused on how I failed.
We recognized that this was a problem caused by both of us. The communication wasn’t getting through. But I had already adapted to your communication style as much as I could. My exited, rambling, almost impulsive way of generating ideas became slow, methodical, thoughtful. I put intention behind everything so not to overwhelm you. I learned not to jump at the obvious solution.
Yes, we sat down like adults and talked things over time and time again. You told me what you needed from me, but I also told you what I needed from you. If I was missing the mark, please just guide me to what you needed. I’m not a mind reader. I did it for you all the time. You were honestly awful at anticipating my needs too. If I was venting, had a bad day, all you’d say was “I’m sorry”, and pat me on the back like a puppy. No effort to dig deeper. No words of support or encouragement. So I had to show you how I needed support. I just needed you to do the same for me. “No”. Again.
One final time, I sent you words of support when you were having a bad day. It wasn’t enough, you wanted more. A phone call? For me to come over so you could vent in person? Did you actually want me to directly help for once? I don’t know. You never told me. Instead of guiding me to what you needed, you immediately shut down. Full silent treatment. I’ve been in abusive relationships where the silent treatment was welded as a weapon. I know you didn’t mean it in an abusive way, you were just overwhelmed again. But I never expected it from you. I didn’t see it for what it was. I only ever asked one thing from you to save us. I put in the work, got us 80% of the way there. I knew I couldn’t bridge the gap on my own. I wasn’t even asking you to put in effort on my behalf, it was for your benefit. I begged you time and time again for help. To communicate. Not to put it all on me, because I couldn’t do it on my own. But instead, you did the opposite.
You said that you felt like you were putting more effort into the relationship than I was. I’m sorry, but I can’t see that effort. I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I can’t. Maybe you mean you put effort into forgiving me every time I messed up? Maybe you mean that you were always planning dates, always picking what we watched, where we went, what we ate, what we drank? Again, mental loads and such. But I had things that I wanted to do and share with you that you always turned down. You only had to plan everything after my plans were rejected. It would have been more efficient for you to show love, patience, and compromise. Maybe we would have worked out then.
But then you left.

I kid you not, my partner’s mom will come up with excuses to hang out with her son (just them) after learning him and I did something together. Essentially, if he and I were to go on a date or trip, she will (shortly after hearing about it) make an excuse to see him. For example, this past Sunday for Mother’s Day she told him that she didn’t want to do anything except watch him play (he plays in an adult league sport). While I was sitting there next to her, I told her about a cute date him and I went on last night. Fast forward to today, Tuesday, my partner tells me that him and his mom are meeting up after work for drinks as a Mother’s Day gift. Her idea, of course. Just a little background, my partner and I have been dating for about 1 year. We are happy in our relationship. We don’t live together but are about a 30 min drive from each other. His parents live about the same distance. I have a friendly relationship with his mom, but keep her at an arm’s length because of this and other reasons. What I’ve noticed about her is that she is the type of person who does nice things for the recognition, not because she wants to do it to be genuinely nice. (And that kind of disgusts me.) I will add that I am grateful to be dating a person who does care about his family.
So I’m hoping to learn some strategies I can use to be smarter in this situation in order to get a more healthy boundary/balance between him and his mom. I’m just honestly frustrated at this point because it doesn’t seem like it’s going to ever stop and I’m worried that it’s going to potentially get worse as him and I start to get more serious. Like, is she going to go on a trip with him after him and I get back from our honeymoon? Geez. I just want her to be happy for the both of us spending time with each other instead of getting jealous.
Any advice is appreciated. Thanks!

I've been trying to write "the last email" - while I am sober, during the day. I realize I should just stfu, though.
I want to justify myself, but I feel like I can't anymore. I am going to try to stop. I am aware that you not responding is a response. I am trying to understand.
I have been being mean to you (even if you honestly blocked my email forever ago), and I need to apologize. If this is the only way I can, so be it. I understand that I seem crazy, and I have no right to interfere in your life. Please forgive me, though; I am not trying to interfere. I am trying to fix what is broken in myself.
I think I misunderstood our relationship. I would call it friendship, but that is also a relationship, so please forgive the misnomer. .
I need to explain my pent up anger. You said you'd given me every chance to talk about what happened. Obviously, it wasn't enough for me. It was an ongoing issue for me. I understand I was asking for more than you could have given, and I want to apologize. That was why I was angry, though. Short conversations never made me feel better, but I also didn't want to ruin every day that we talked or played together. And I really didn't want to push you because I knew there were other things happening in your life.
I haven't had an easy life either. I am sorry for lashing out at you for things I never explained and weren't your fault. I could never apologize enough about that. Every single time I've tried, I effed it up somehow.
I realized today, after my son had some trouble with a relationship, that it was time for him to (sadly) learn that you can't pick the consequences of your actions. We brought you and "Mario" up as mistakes I've made with people who were important to me that I've lost.
I wish we could be friends at all. I understand that won't happen right now.
This morning as I was sitting across from my son, I said out loud that "I've now been trying to just apologize for blocking [you] for longer than I actually had [you] blocked." The exact dates were Dec 27/28th, 2016 to around April 2020. So, a bit over three years. It's been over four years now.
It's time for me to stop. That's all there is to it. :( If I don't stop, even if you have never read any of the emails I've sent over the last 4 years, it just proves I was never worth your time to begin with. Normal people should be able to control their urges (like you, for example). I obviously can't. I am very obviously mentally ill. I didn't mean to be. :(
I'm sorry for all of the mean things I've said to you. I wish you would've had more time for me. But, I understand I was asking too much. Just based on what I think happened with you. I would've given you a million years of silence if you asked. I kept bringing up the "I drove 1000 miles one way to see you" thing to show my dedication, not to rub it in your face.
I didn't want to let go, and I only drowned myself.
But, that isn't how I want to end this.
I know it will probably be impossible to forgive me for all of the mean things I've said. Unfortunately being a traumatized person has a lot of downsides. I know I keep saying if you ever want to, please reach out. Even though I've been mean in emails, I don't believe that you are a bad person. If I did, you wouldn't have been hearing from me.
I don't want you to think of me as a bad person; though, I know I deserve that right now.
My biggest regret in life is that I didn't go to see you in 2013. I should have. We needed to talk face to face. I think you would've seen how broken I was inside. Pretending to be okay for everyone else's sake. I'm sorry I was too afraid to be honest about it and that it just came out regardless in different ways.
I will try not to hate myself forever for my actions. I sincerely miss you. I sincerely hope to hear back from you one day. I am sorry for all the pain I have inflicted. I really, really am.

One essential ingredient that you must have when starting on line foreign currency exchange trading is an account with a Forex trading broker. The currency trading broker is your connection into the markets and they will provide the essential cover that allows you to trade with margins.
The question is how do you select the best Forex brokers. There are at least 7 criteria points to be considered when you are deciding where best to shop for a Forex currency trading broker.
1. Dependable
This works on multiple levels. You need a broker that you can rely upon to be trustworthy and who will not all of a sudden vanish like a puff of smoke from the internet taking with them all of your hard earned money. The FX market is surprisingly devoid of regulations so there are a vast number of Forex brokers to choose from and as is like with many things in life some Forex trading brokers are more honest than others.
The first step is to check up on the reliability of the currency trading broker and to confirm your online Forex broker is regulated.
Check for a Forex currency trading broker with an unblemished record regarding any complaints logged against them on the National Futures Association website. Other countries have their own regulatory bodies for example the Financial Services Authority in the UK performs the same function.
Another consideration is whether the online Forex broker's trading platform is reliable. The Forex trading platform is the financial software that will connect you to the FX markets whenever you want to trade. If the online Forex trading platform is often offline then this will cause you some major problems. For example you could miss out on either opening or closing a trade at the optimum time.
It would be best to check a number of online Forex trading forums for feedback from individual users regarding the amount of downtime that they have experienced. Remember it is like with all online forums do not listen to the loudest voice as they may have a vested interest either way in recommending or not recommending who in their opinion are the best Forex brokers
2. Services Provided by the Best Forex Brokers
The Forex markets trade for a full 24 hours each day that's from Sunday evening through to Friday afternoon Eastern Standard Time. Check that your Forex broker's trading platform is reachable available during all of these times, The best Forex brokers trading platforms will be available and they will also offer around the clock customer support on Forex trading days.
Check that they cover at the seven main currencies that are USD, JPY, CAD, AUD, CHF, EUR and GBP certainly the best Forex brokers will.
The best Forex brokers will offer you a minimum of the following essential tools, which are instant execution of your Forex trade at the price displayed, technical analysis charts and financial trading charts. Most will also offer a training program to teach the basics of using the tools.
3. Forex Broker Costs
Online Forex brokers do not make commission charges to their customers so the way they make their income is from the difference in the Forex trading spread. The Forex spread is the differences between the buying and selling prices on any of the currency pairs. The Forex trading spread is usually any spread between 1 pip and even sometimes less to around 3 pips; this will depend upon the online Forex brokers terms of service and the currency pair being traded.
The piece of the pie taken by the spread can make all the difference between achieving a profit or making a loss in your Forex trading account. This will affect both the immediate term and also the longer term so you will need to scrutinize closely at what level the spread will be computed. If you can decide which pairs you are likely to trade most frequently the spread on those pairs will be more important to you than on others. For example I prefer the USD/GBP trading pair, which is known as cable.
Beware of special short term marketing maneuvers like special offers of lower Forex trading spreads that may not last long once you have committed your funds.
Consideration need to be given on how much is the minimum amount of capital you can invest in order to open a Forex trading account. Good advice given to new traders is to start out small, which means looking for a Forex broker who will let you open an account with a minimum of $250 or hopefully less.
4. Margins, Which Are Also Known as Deposits
Margins are a variable that change from Forex broker to Forex broker. A lower margin requirement means giving you a higher leverage, and higher leverage can give you the ability to create greater profits, or losses from a fund of the same size. Margins allow you to magnify the opportunity to make more money
5. Size of the Trade also known as Lot Size
Trade size varies from one broker to another. Generally 100,000 trading units of currency is considered a standard lot, 10,000 of trading units is a mini lot, and 1,000 trading units is a micro lot. Some brokers do offer fractions of a lot too, which give you more power to set your own lot size. This could be perceived as a bonus or just an added complication depending on your point of view.
There are other matters to be considered which include the interest paid on the Forex margin account, the rollover charges when trades continue over to the next trading day and any other FX trading policies that the broker may have which could affect your Forex trading account commerciality. These are the main points that you should be looking out for when choosing the best Forex trading broker.
6. Customer Service
This is very important especially when you have just started out using a Forex trading platform. Like with all new things there will inevitably be teething troubles and you will want to be able to speak or email someone and get an instant response. The best Forex brokers will provide this service.
7. Forex Exit Strategy
There will be a time when you want to realize some of the profits that you have made and be able to withdraw your money quickly and easily. Make sure that you are able to get your money within a couple of days as some online Forex brokers insist on a 14 day delay which is totally unnecessary.

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I’m about to run a campaign where (long story short) all the party members at some point made an agreement with the BBEG and are in eternal debt of the thing they hate most, for example one of the players was a washed up detective who made an agreement to gain powers as a way to catch criminals, but his debt is that every time he commits an act of justice the BBEG will take something from him such as a core memory or just injure him. And as a way to get out of their debt the party agrees to join essentially a ‘worldwide battle Royale with everyone who wants their debts to be paid and if they emerge victorious then their debts will be gone. I need ideas for some opponents and stories for their debts/agreements

25 year old straight male. This is something that really only hit me a couple days ago. I was hanging out with a couple guys in my friend group discussing how to help two of our other friends who really struggle with dating and have never been able to get into a long term relationship despite their "best" efforts for years. (Best in quotes because as much as we try there are definitely things they won't take constructive criticism on).
I was a late bloomer and honestly don't really put myself out there very much, but I have been in one long term relationship of 2+ years as well as a couple shorter situationships, and have had about a dozen sexual partners in total. I am not currently in a relationship, nor do I want to be right now. I mention this all because people do value my input and assume I know what I am talking about to some extent when it comes to girls.
But the reality of it is that I don't. One of my friends mentioned I would be no better off than our two other buddies we were discussing if I looked like them, and honestly I could do nothing but agree.
I have only "pursued" two girls in my entire life, and each occasion led to a short term relationship that I knew wouldn't lead anywhere and was totally ok with. (Pursued in quotes since it was simple as asking each one out once when we barely knew each other). Most of the girls I have gone out with have initiated it. Probably the majority of my hookups have been scenarios where a friend introduces their friend who is into me or some girl coming up to me when I'm just standing at the bar. (I do reject the vast majority of girls who approach me).
But this also means I have no idea how to approach girls, especially those who I fear may reject me. I don't think I've ever had a "crush" on a girl and I've never put any effort into going after someone. As I look to date seriously again down the line, I don't even know how to go after someone I am actually interested in. I am undergoing this shift in mentality where I feel like I have options (something relatively new to me) but at the same time I have this feeling that I won't even know how to start if someone I am truly interested in happens to fall in front of me. Like I won't even be able to get into position to fumble. I also don't really know how to get girls to actually like me, if that makes sense.
This worry is starting to grow a bit in my mind, as is my inability to help out my friends / family (younger brother) who struggle. It feels bad not being able to give much useful advice to someone in my brother's position, for example. In a lot of ways I was (and still am) the same shy, quiet, reserved guy he is, but I just got lucky.

To keep it short, I’m just trying to remember the name of this horror movie I saw a while ago. I only remember like two key scenes and one element of it. That being where these people are in a haunted hospital or probably asylum.
But there’s a clear two worlds where the realities are different. For example one scene I can kinda remember is where this guy is taken away by ghost medical staff and given an eye operation where they basically stab into his eye. But it’s revealed he was just tricked into stabbing into his own eye with his keys I think via footage.
And then at the end one girl escapes, and one guy is seemingly stuck in the ghost/past version of the building and shoved into a drawer in the places morgue still kickin. I thinkkkk he had a thing about being claustrophobic too but I’m not entirely sure. But the movie just ends there.
I hope that’s enough info, because honestly this is just one of those things where I just wanna remember it so I can move on with my day. Cause it’s just gonna bug me nonstop until I do so any help is very appreciated. Thanks😂

In the quaint village of Briarbrook, nestled between rolling hills and whispering pines, lived a curious soul named Eliza. Her days were stitched together by the rhythm of the seasons, each passing year marking a new chapter in the symphony of her life. From the tender age of six, Eliza had a penchant for collecting seashells, each one a treasure imbued with memories of seaside escapades that lingered in her heart.
Through the lens of her youthful gaze, the world was a canvas painted with the hues of wonder and possibility. The winding cobblestone paths of Briarbrook, once familiar and comforting, now seemed to whisper tales of distant lands and untold adventures.
Eliza's transformation began with an unexpected encounter in the heart of the woods. She stumbled upon a mysterious figure, cloaked in stories and secrets, weaving tales spun from threads of wisdom and curiosity. The old sage, nestled beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient oak, imparted cryptic advice that sparked a yearning for discovery within Eliza's soul.
As seasons melted into one another, Eliza embarked on a voyage of self-discovery, a journey shaped by trials and revelations. She encountered peculiar companions along the way—a nomadic storyteller whose words painted vivid landscapes of far-off realms, a silent gardener who nurtured seeds of wisdom in the fertile soil of her mind, and a spirited bard whose melodies echoed the songs of forgotten legends.
Each encounter left an indelible mark on Eliza's spirit, illuminating hidden facets of her identity. The trials she faced—challenges that tested her courage, tempests that stirred her resilience—were the forge where her character was shaped and honed.
With the passage of time, Eliza's once small world expanded like a blooming tapestry unfurling to reveal the vastness of existence. Her footsteps led her beyond the village's borders, across sun-kissed meadows and moonlit forests, as she chased the elusive whispers of distant horizons.
The crescendo of her journey was not marked by a definitive destination but by the realization that the pilgrimage itself was the essence of her metamorphosis. The soul-stirring melodies of life's harmonies resonated within her, guiding her toward a profound understanding—that growth was an eternal dance, an ever-evolving rhythm that echoed the cadence of the human spirit.
In the end, Eliza returned to Briarbrook, her heart brimming with the treasures of her odyssey. The village, once suffused with familiarity, now appeared adorned with newfound hues and shades, each cobblestone and each whispered tale a testament to her evolution.
As she gazed upon the horizon, Eliza knew that her journey had only just begun—a boundless expanse of tales awaiting to be unwoven, mysteries yearning to be unraveled, and the infinite depths of her own soul waiting to be explored.
🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯
In the shimmering metropolis of NeoArc, where the glow of neon lights danced upon sleek skyscrapers, lay a world teetering on the edge of evolution. Here, in the heart of innovation, the threads of society intertwined with the fabric of cutting-edge biotechnology, genetic engineering, and the pulsating rhythm of biometrics.
Enter Marcus, a young engineer whose fascination with the fusion of biology and technology bordered on obsession. His world revolved around the labyrinthine corridors of the Research and Development sector, a sprawling enclave where the echo of mechanical hums harmonized with the whispers of experimental breakthroughs.
The city's pulse throbbed with advancements, where cybernetic enhancements were the new frontier, and genetic modifications promised to redefine humanity's very essence. Marcus was entangled in this web of progress, driven by an insatiable curiosity to decipher the symbiosis between man and machine, the convergence of flesh and circuitry.
In the shadowed alleys and clandestine laboratories of NeoArc, Marcus found himself embroiled in clandestine projects that skirted the edges of ethical boundaries. The allure of pushing the boundaries of biotechnology to transcend limitations beckoned, blurring the lines between ambition and moral compass.
As Marcus delved deeper into the intricacies of biopunk, he encountered factions entrenched in clandestine operations, each vying for control over the enigmatic possibilities offered by genetic manipulation. The allure of power and the pursuit of human enhancement became a battleground where ethics clashed with ambition, morality tangled with scientific prowess.
Yet, amidst the chaos and ethical dilemmas, Marcus found a beacon of hope—a glimmering thread of purpose that intertwined with his quest for knowledge. He realized that the true essence of biopunk wasn't merely about the advancement of technology but the ethical responsibility tethered to wielding such unprecedented power.
The climax of his journey wasn't marked by a groundbreaking scientific discovery or an engineered revolution but by the profound realization that the future of biopunk lay not solely in scientific marvels but in the conscientious application of its possibilities.
In the hum of NeoArc's bustling streets, Marcus emerged not as a trailblazing scientist pushing the boundaries of biotechnology, but as a steward of ethical innovation. His resolve to tread the path of biopunk with ethical integrity became the cornerstone of his legacy—a testament to the convergence of humanity and technology in an era poised on the brink of revolution.
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bio punk
In the heart of the sprawling city of NeoArc, Marcus stood amidst the fluorescent glow of the Research and Development sector, engrossed in the rhythmic hum of the lab. His quest for scientific breakthroughs was a symphony composed of ambition and ethical contemplation, interwoven with the threads of intrigue that pulsed through the cutting-edge world of biopunk.
Character Development:
As Marcus meticulously tinkered with strands of genetic code, he navigated the labyrinth of his own moral compass. Each experiment, each ethically ambiguous choice, etched a subtle mark upon his conscience. His devotion to scientific advancement wrestled with the nagging tendrils of ethical responsibility that coiled within his mind.
Plot and Literary Devices:
One fateful night, a clandestine meeting in the dimly lit alleys of NeoArc beckoned Marcus into the clandestine underbelly of biopunk's potential. The dialogue between Marcus and a shadowed figure unfurled like a carefully crafted riddle, each word laden with intrigue and veiled warnings.
"Marcus, you possess the ingenuity to redefine the very fabric of humanity," murmured the shadowed figure, the words laced with both temptation and caution.
The plot thickened as Marcus found himself entangled in a web of intrigue, navigating a plot steeped in mystery and ethical quandaries. The external dialogue mirrored the city's pulsating energy, shrouded in the secrets of illicit experimentation, while his internal dialogue echoed with the reverberations of moral dilemmas.
Inner Dialogue: "Can scientific progress eclipse moral boundaries? Is the pursuit of advancement worth compromising ethical standards?"
External Dialogue: "I seek answers, not just to revolutionize science, but to wield its power responsibly," Marcus countered, the gravity of his words underscoring his ethical stance.
Development Through Dialogue:
Conversations with clandestine researchers, heated debates with colleagues, and ethical discussions within the corridors of the lab epitomized Marcus's journey. Each dialogue was a canvas upon which his character evolved, transforming from a zealous scientist fixated on progress to a vigilant guardian of ethical innovation.
The climax unfurled in a crescendo of moral reckoning—a pivotal moment where Marcus had to choose between the allure of unchecked progress and the moral imperative to wield biotechnology responsibly.
Conclusion:
As the neon-lit streets of NeoArc bathed in the city's nocturnal luminescence, Marcus emerged not just as a scientist but as a beacon of ethical responsibility within the realm of biopunk. His character arc encapsulated the fusion of scientific curiosity and moral consciousness, painting a portrait of growth that mirrored the city's ever-evolving skyline.
This journey through Marcus's inner and external dialogue, intertwined with plot and ethical dilemmas, encapsulated the essence of character development within the intricate tapestry of the biopunk genre.
🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧
Remember these were generated by ChatGPT and have not been edited. They were prompted using the same writing genre prompts that were provided to you, and I was trying to make an example of how to respond but instead, this is what was churned out from different sessions. I'm still working on it but let me see what happens when humans respond!

This is a long read sorry!
Hi, I (22F) literally just joined, I have been on reddit for a while now, I post here or there but I really need the grace that only reddit seems to have, kisses but you know it's true. So, I guess, I am screaming into the void, because the truth is I am so gutturally confused.
Like the title says- I have always fantasized of being a flower child, a changeling, of turning towards the corner of the yard, the woods beckoning me to run away, the gentleness of which the coyotes would pick my bones clean. My childhood felt like a house fire only I could see.
My father's nightcap of whiskey got less and less watered down as nights were uncomfortable to spend on the family room couch. The one that he fiercely protects, once threatening my friend who mistakenly lounged in his spot. My mother's love felt scarce, a luxury only my younger sister could afford. Between that and her ambition to become the first nurse and college graduate of both families, I was more of my father's daughter. My younger sister and I were doll-like children, meek and polite to the price of our own dignity and self. To give a brief snapshot of what it was like being raised by them \~ even though "I'm remembering it all wrong, or not at all" I will try to go in chronological order, but you can quickly see most of these were not isolated incidents and I jump around:
-daily spankings because of crying during daycare drop off (fair technique)
-tricking us out of the "broken" car, in the rain on a dirt road "get gas" and proceeded to speed past us laughing as we ran after his taillights in the mud, we were in another country, on a solo trip with just our dad, we were both elementary school age.
-In elementary school and 6th grade I lived in a sweatshirt because when I hit puberty. I pleaded to my mother how hard it was to hear my father's constant comments about my womanhood and new body. He started to compare me to a hooker around this time, calling me a slut for trying to wear what my friends wore to school- leggings, shorts shorter than the knee but not offensively short I promise, though I strongly feel as clothing does not mean consent.
-For as long as I can remember, he would take pictures of us when we looked embarrassed then show it to family, friends, whoever in conversation in front of us then scold us when we inevitably felt bad or asked him to stop. He would also promise to delete the photo but would continue the previously mentioned above.
-So far, I have just been harping on my father, but the truth is they are a match made in hell, and though I feel like my mother is a victim in her own way. It was very hard to exist without their constant horrible comments about my appearance and character. They both shamed skinny children to be thinner, critiqued my body through puberty, and felt entitled to touch my body when and how they wanted. Examples include my father's frequent ass grabbing, and then allowing his adult male friend to do the same.
-They both would ridicule me for working minimum wage jobs in high school, while my father funnels out of my sister and I's joint accounts, only when we confront him does he fess that he required the money we earned for ourselves for the "mortgage". He continues as well as set monetary account goals, right before trips or plans, he would always be surprised that we had managed to scrape together enough money. He expects me to find a place that will fire and schedule me on a winter vacation, or to amount 5k in less than 3 months, while paying for my own necessities, thank you for teaching me to live on frugality as a means of survival.
-The name calling I touched on, but I would be the first to come home from school, my father would take his lunch to come home and berate me verbally of how much of a loser I am and will continue to be. The verbal arguments were daily, I fully admit to yelling back but in truth I couldn't leave his spewing red face hurling threats, I had to stay glued in place until he had his fill.
-Another solo trip with my father and sister, my mother had cleaned my room while we were away and had found my treasures- vapes, two beers. I got pulled out of the running shower to be beaten on and off through the night whenever my father took a break from tv, my sister sob in the room with my father to stop and I sat on the couch until morning. We had a tourist excursion the next day and I got it again before we left because I was not to "ruining the rest of his vacation with my bad attitude"
-They locked away my childhood cat, sick with cancer, to die alone in the basement so she would ruin their floors with her incontinence. When she passed, they did not tell me, they buried her in the woods behind our house, I wish I could lay beside her, I'm sorry little one.
-My father would come home and yell at me for not having dinner ready for him, because when my mother worked late or was not home, the next one responsible for dinner was my younger sister or me.
-He physically corners us or refuses to let us leave. Threatened my life when I tried to leave the house during an argument.
-Put his hand through the door a couple of times because I “gave attitude” by responding with ok. Readers, please note I am capable of attitude, but this was not the case, I was scared, and I just wanted to give him whatever answer he wanted
-I'm a summer birthday, so for my big 21st I had my cousin, bf and sister have a pool party in my parents' pool. No one told me the plan all day. I was told to just relax by everyone, because normally I would be running around serving people or helping my parents. No one told me anything, so we played some games in the yard, had some wine coolers and then swam. My father flies outside and starts yelling at me from the side of the pool to get my ass out and blow out my candles because he needs to drive my cousin 20 minutes home each way. So, I blew out my candles, soaking wet staring daggers because my father has always managed to underplay or make me feel bad on my birthday too? Another grievance from my 21st birthday is that my father grilled frozen steaks, and I truly do not want to seem like a stuck-up princess, but he proceeded to buy 300$ of food from my favorite restaurant and his favorite food is steak not mine. Note his birthday is the next day following mine.
I may post in regard to the tribulation that was my childhood in this thread again, but it takes a lot out of me, and I have already had myself a day sorry. Now you're all caught up and I just want you to know-
I have long ruminated over my own words and actions; though I have many regrets I do not feel ashamed of my choices or who I am because I try to treat everyone with kindness and most importantly respectability. I know the lengths my immigrant parents have gone through to build themselves a life. I know the struggles my father had with his father, the alcoholic who raised him with cruelty reserved for not even a barn animal. I know that my mother lived in the shadows as a neglected middle child hoping to find someone who realized all her good in the way her parents did not. I can see and understand that I carry the same wounds, and now it is within my responsibility to be better.
So, my relationship with my parents is strained right now. I have been in low contact with my mother and father for nearly four years, with periods of better contact. We have tried therapy, though it's difficult as my mother uses this as an opportunity to explore her wounds rather than our history or relationship. Though the therapist was helpful in directing the conversation back, I believe that the work can only happen with the person wanting to actually work on themselves, so I feel like I am at a frustrating impasse.
Every time I feel like I can take out a brick between the wall I keep between us, my mother will say something that makes me build another layer. I try not to be sensitive, yet I know my mother likes to cut with her words, though she claims otherwise. In a recent conversation my mother admitted that my father and she spent a great effort in making sure my beauty did not go to my head and did this in order to keep me humble.
For context, my mother’s side of the family does not like my father, and this along with other childhood issues festering into adulthood drove a wedge between my mother and her younger brother. His recent divorce and my mother’s empty nest have given them much time and space to rekindle their sibling relationship. So on our already strained phone calls she hits me with these metaphors of her brother and her relationship to ours. Am I off for thinking that those are two very different relationships, yet both have.. Jealousy? Furthermore, I feel a looney because I am fighting to keep them in my life, and they are fighting to be right.? To be absolved of the guilt and shame that maybe they did do the wrong thing.?
What gives them the right? When we all have to lay away at night with our guilt you want me to hold yours? I want a mother and they want a guiltless soul
Truthfully, I do not know what kind of future lies ahead for us. I think I grieve having bullies instead of parents, of what I missed out on and who I could have been. Like I said I am low contact right now, but after a normal phone call talking about the weather and our pets today, I had an anxiety attack to the point I fought to stay conscious. This has not been the first time I have fainted due to anxiety, mostly surrounding situations that remind me of them or things they punished or did to me in the past. The day after I wished my father a happy birthday after a year of no contact, I got two pills of ativan to the face after a ER visit in which they thought my poor bf was trafficking me. Though this is maybe too much, I am always sweating, my sides literally pour, my hands shake, and I can string together a sentence if I try. I feel like a different person, a moist, meek person.. which is not me, I self tattoo and pierce, I can and have tackled an attacking dog and I have punched touchy men square in the nose. I’m tough because I fought tooth and nail to be kind and gentle, we rescued cats and recently a possum, and we let out spiders and bugs, so our cats don’t terrorize them.
Here’s the thing… we’re getting married!
We’re tying the knot in the woods at the end of May, but I feel like an asshole because I have not told my parents. They know we’re engaged.
My mother, in a recent phone call, told me of this travel nurse that she had gotten close to, that was getting married soon, and invited my mother to go dress shopping with her. My mother told me how sad this girl felt that her family was all the way across the country, coincidently much like we are. This felt like she was guilting me, but she went so far as to send me a picture of a couple, I didn’t verify who it actually was.
Another issue is I am dealing with the guilt of getting a ring and bands elsewhere. My father is a high-end jeweler whose work has been showcased by celebs, my whole life I heard that my father was going to design and make my engagement ring. After long consideration, we picked out a ring from Madrid that felt more like me. When I look at my wedding rings I want to think of my husband not my father. I am more than happy with anything else, rings for other occasions, but it makes my skin crawl and my stomach curling because part of me feels as if it's more of a collar than a ring then.
My mother wants to meet over memorial weekend, she wants me to fly out a day to visit before I’m getting married.
I do not know if I should facetime them and break the news before, after or invite them. It’s already last minute so airfare will be expensive, but I know they are going to be so heartbroken. Part of me does not want them there either because I have felt alone my whole life, I figured I would do my wedding the same way, though it's hard because my fiancé's family will be there, and I will have no one. I wish I could hire a friend... lol typed that with a tear in my eye that's ironic.
Suggestions please

“What do you mean it’s wrong?” said Tamara, becoming frustrated with Samuel.
“I'm trying to tell you that plants do not eat earth. They just absorb nutrients from it,” Samuel replied, equally annoyed as this was the fourth time he had explained it. “Look, just take my word for it, OK,” he added.
“Fine, but you will have to explain it again,” Tamara retorted.
Samuel and Tamara were partners in a scientific study of their forest home. It was genuinely idyllic in every sense of the word; the trees stretched high into the sky, and everyone was covered in succulent leaves, a deep and gorgeous shade of green. Around their trunks were rings of flowers gathered from every continent, and a thick carpet of grass lay on the ground.
The two sat underneath a chestnut tree, writing up their findings for the day. It had focused mainly on tree sizes and growth rates, and they had continued this study for, on and off, almost a year.
Samuel turned to look at his assistant and found that she was just as remarkable as the day they had first met: golden locks, like living sunlight, tied neatly in a bun. Her eyes were an emerald green, and all in all, she was gorgeous. However, it was when you came to her waist that things became truly incredible because rather than a pair of legs, there was a long and wide snake’s tail.
It was huge, at least seven metres long and as wide as her torso. The scales were the same beautiful colour as her hair and reflected the sunlight in such a way that she appeared to glow. She was wearing an ultramarine tunic with a black diamond in the centre. She was like this not because of a plague, a curse or some mutation; Tamara was a Lamia; it was how she was born.
Samuel, on the other hand, looked far less impressive. He was around five foot ten, with dull brown hair and equally dull eyes. His stomach stuck out from the rest of him. No amount of exercise was able to get rid of it.
He was by every description a ‘dull as dishwater’ human. His clothes, however, were slightly more interesting. He wore a navy blue tunic with a thick leather belt wrapped around his waist. On his feet was a pair of excellent leather boots, able to withstand whatever the world threw at them and on his forearms and shins, he wore something Tamara had never seen or even heard of before: a pair of vambraces and greaves, Samuel called it armour.
Three strips of rugged leather layered on top of one another made up each piece, and between each layer was a collection of tiny metal beads. When Tamara asked what they were for, Samuel said they were for protection.
All of this would have been inconceivable to Samuel two years ago, but he had become used to it in time. Samuel was not born into this world; he had arrived. How? He did not know, but he remembered it all vividly; his senses had been overloaded, and at first, he believed he had died.
“What’s wrong?” Tamara asked Samuel, who had been silent for over a minute.
Samuel snapped out of his daydream and said: “nothing, just thinking about that day again.”
Tamara nodded and said nothing else; she knew exactly what was wrong.
Samuel went straight back to writing. When Samuel first showed up, there had been no paper or pens, but what was even stranger than the lack of these apparent necessities was that Samuel had had to invent both of these items.
Tamara and those like her did not possess a written language; they relied entirely on their memories, and until Samuel had shown up, Tamara had not even conceived of the notion, but she had picked it up astonishingly quickly.
“It still sounds like eating to me,” said Tamara, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“Well, it isn’t; eating requires a mouth and stomach,” Samuel replied.
“Says who?” Tamara asked defiantly.
“Says me,” Samuel answered.
Samuel jotted down the last of his notes and left the pages to dry in the sun. Samuel then turned to his right and looked at a large book, the size of a chair’s seat, bound in yellow leather and knotted by animal tendons. He picked it up and began to leaf through the pages.
His eyes glanced over paragraphs about oak trees and orchid flowers until he finally reached the section he sought; the page was titled Silver Birch (Betula Pendula).
“Have you finished the drawing on Silver Birch yet?” Samuel asked without looking.
Tamara was currently focused on a drawing of sunflowers, but she understood his request and, without looking up or saying a word, handed him the picture he wanted.
Samuel took the drawing and took several moments admiring it. Like all her work, the picture was astounding; not only did it look like an actual Silver Birch, but it also seemed to be alive, as though it would start blowing in the breeze.
Samuel punched four holes along the sheet's left side, undid the tendon strings and then attached the drawing behind the title page. He added eight more pages to his book, four of text and four illustrations.
Their work was now done; there was no more writing or drawing today, and he placed their work into a knapsack Tamara had brought with her. Samuel turned to his partner and asked: “so what do you want to do now?”
Tamara looked up through the canopy and could make out the silhouettes of several birds and finally said: “I’d quite like to fly.”
Samuel smiled, chuckled and said, “Yes, so would I, but that would require every member of the village working together for decades.”
Tamara looked Samuel in the eye and said: “are you making fun of me?”
Samuel did not reply; he just looked Tamara dead in the eye. She observed every minute twitch on Samuel's face and concluded he was not.
“How could a person fly?” She asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I don’t know, I’m not an engineer,” Samuel answered, “So apart from flying, what else do you want to do?”
Tamara let out a sigh and said: “I guess we will just have to walk.”
These were the moments Samuel lived for, just a quiet afternoon with his best friend enjoying a stroll; he was utterly content.
“You seem chipper,” Tamara said, noticing the growing smile on Samuel’s face.
“That’s because I feel chipper” he replied
They passed through the trees, heading towards their favourite spot, a beach by the side of a lake so large you could not see the other side.
“So, how is everyone?” Samuel said, trying to spark a conversation.
“You mean every single one because that could take a while?” Tamara replied.
“Let’s start with your mother” he clarified.
Tamara’s mother, Pancha, was more or less just a larger version of her daughter, just as brash and headstrong.
“She’s fine; she has finally stopped asking me what happened every time I come to meet you,” she said.
“Really, and it only took her two and a half years,” said Samuel with a smirk.
Yes, that first year here, had been a real trial. Samuel had never felt so scared, isolated and persecuted in his life. When he thought about it, he could still feel the fear and the hopelessness.
A gust of air slammed into Samuel’s face, bringing him back to the present, and what a wonderful time it was. The water was crystal clear, the beach was covered in sparkling white sand, and the distinct aroma of water wafted through the air. Samuel breathed it all in as Tamara spread herself over the beach.
The cooling breeze that Samuel found so enjoyable, Tamara found far less agreeable. Tamara was ectothermic or cold-blooded. She could not maintain her body temperature; she needed to absorb it from her environment, and the wind was slowly draining her.
“Comfortable down there?” Samuel asked.
Tamara turned her head, looked up at him and said: “Actually, yes, not as good as my bed, but still fine.”
Samuel left Tamara to her thermoregulation and strolled down to the water’s edge, “stay where I can see you!” Tamara called.
“Yes, MOM,” Samuel answered sarcastically, though he knew it was more for Tamara’s sake than his; she had a problem with open spaces.
Samuel closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles strain against the tension, and yawned. Small tears formed in his eyes and wiped them away. He had only been up for a few hours but was ready for bed.
“Too much thinking, that was the problem,” Samuel mumbled to himself.
The sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. It seemed as though millions of diamonds were suddenly brought into existence, danced for a few moments, and then vanished as quickly as they came. It was beautiful, just like everything else here.
He climbed up a rock that jutted from that sand and sat down, his legs dangling over the edge. As he kicked his legs, a ray of sun caught his greaves, and although the leather was rather dull, it still dazzled him.
Samuel heard a sound reminiscent of sandpaper brushing against wood, and he knew at once what it was. He waited four more seconds and said, without moving an inch, “Don’t even think about it!”
“How did you know?” Tamara asked, feeling simultaneously impressed, confused and disappointed.
Samuel looked her in the eye and replied: “who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Tamara had not clambered up the rock like Samuel; she had simply raised herself on her tail so she stood over two metres high.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Tamara smiled and answered, “yes, thanks for asking.”
Tamara moved behind Samuel and then began to coil around the boulder, and if he had not experienced it all before, it would have been unnerving. Tamara was only twelve and a half, yet she was already far stronger than him. Samuel was sure if Tamara really wanted to, she could crush a bison to death. After the graceful dance around the stone, she sat down beside Samuel.
The pair was silent for a few minutes, except for a quick coughing fit by Samuel; they took in the unnatural beauty of their surroundings.
“Hey, I have a question,” said Tamara, coming back to her senses.
“What is it?” Samuel replied.
“You still haven’t told me why we are studying the forest?” She asked.
In an instant, Samuel became deeply confused. To him, it seemed all too obvious why they were doing it.
“There is no practical reason for doing it. We do it so that we know,” Samuel answered.
Tamara became silent. Samuel realised that she was deep in thought and decided to give her all the time she needed until she finally said: “Is this one of those human things?”
Samuel, upon hearing this, gave a small chuckle and answered: “yes, if you like.”
Suddenly, something caught Samuel’s eye. It was a crab, no bigger than a golf ball. Its back was powder blue, and it held its arms upright, its claws pointing down. The tiny creature would walk forward, scoop some sand into its mouth, and then leave a small pellet behind.
“Look at that!” said Samuel, nudging Tamara’s shoulder and pointing at the tiny crustacean. Tamara turned her head and looked directly at where he was pointing; she strained her eyes at what she thought was a pebble; she was about to climb down and collect it when it suddenly moved, and she squealed.
Tamara dragged the bottom end of her tail up from the beach and timidly said, “What’s that?”
Samuel remembered that tone of voice all too well, and it brought with it some unpleasant memories, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and said: “it’s a crab.”
Samuel was certain he had seen this type of crab before but could not put a name to the image. Samuel was sure he had read about them, watched a documentary, or attended a lecture, but he could not remember. Ultimately, he decided to drop it for now and see if the answer would come to him.
Tamara kept staring at it as though she believed it would pounce if she took her eyes off it for one second.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice hushed to ensure the creature did not notice her.
Samuel sighed and answered: “it’s a crab, Tamara, unless you happen to be a nematode then…”
Samuel paused mid-sentence as his brain finally connected the dots and asked, “Wait, you have never seen a crab before?”
This perplexed Samuel for a moment until he remembered that Tamara did not have a television, a car, and she could not fly a plane, so it was not unexpected that she would not know what a crab was.
Tamara shook her head in response to his question, and Samuel added: “you know what a woodlouse is, right?”
Tamara nodded and said, “I like woodlice.”
“Well, a crab is just a type of woodlouse that lives near water,” Samuel concluded.
However, he could tell from her face that she was unconvinced, so he got off the rock, walked over to the tiny creature, wary of its pincers, and picked it up by its backside.
“What are you doing?” Tamara called in alarm.
Samuel held the animal, its legs flailing wildly in an attempt to escape, and said, “showing you there is nothing to be worried about.”
Taking care not to crush it, Samuel clambered back up the rock and presented the animal to her. Tamara stared at it for some as the crab bobbed its eye up and down and tried in vain to find a part of Samuel it could nip.
“It’s actually kind of… cute,” Tamara said after two minutes of silence.
She relaxed her tail and let it rest on the beach once more. “Can it hold it?” She asked Samuel, fear being replaced by interest.
“Of course, you can. Just make sure you hold it by its back and be careful of the pincers; if they get you, it will hurt.”
Samuel handed the crab over to her and watched as Tamara began to inspect the animal from every angle. The crab had a white underbelly and purple joints.
“You think you could draw it from memory?” Samuel asked.
“Hmm?” Tamara replied. Samuel let out a sigh and repeated. After three more attempts, Tamara finally took notice and said, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, Samuel said, “we should probably put him back now.”
Tamara moaned about it, but Samuel said: “he has his own life, Tamara; you can’t keep him!”
She conceded, grumbling under her breath, and gently placed the animal back on the sand. As the crab dashed away, the two noticed that while they had been fixated on that single crab, thousands more had emerged on the beach.
Upon seeing the swarm of animals make their way across the beach, Tamara let out a squeal and once again pulled her tail up off the beach. The army of crabs marched along the shore. The collective walking produced a sound loud enough to hear from fifty metres away, and at last, Samuel remembered what they were and said, with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, “they’re soldier crabs.”
“What are they going to do?” Tamara asked, concerned by the sudden appearance of so many creatures.
Samuel kept staring at the gathering, but he heard her question and replied, “They’re just feeding,” and added quickly, “But we are far too big for them.”
“That's odd,” Samuel said under his breath.
“I know there are so many of them,” Tamara said, deeply unnerved by the sheer vastness of the swarm.
“No,” Samuel said, “There should be this many of them; it’s where they are that is strange.”
Tamara momentarily took her eyes off the army and asked, “So where should they be.” There was a slight flicker of fear in her voice at the prospect of being invaded; rats and mice where bad enough. They did not need another pest.
“By the sea, not a freshwater lake,” he answered.
“The Sea?” Tamara almost yelled. Samuel was a little surprised by this enthusiasm and turned to face her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you ever been to the sea,” she asked.
“Yes, many times,” Samuel said, uncertain where this was going.
“I bet it’s wonderful,” Tamara added with a smile.
Samuel was silent as his brain connected a few dots and asked: “how can you know about the sea if you don’t know about crabs?”
She smiled; Tamara enjoyed it when she knew something that he did not, “there is a story that my mom told me that before we came to this forest, we were a different people that lived by the sea.” Tamara paused for a breath.
“But then humans came and drove us from the water, and we fled inland. Our people split into two. One half went to the mountains, and the other settled in the forest.”
Tamara finished and waited for his reply. Samuel, however, just kept looking at her. Tamara was concerned that she had upset him; he did not like it when humans were labelled as the enemy, yet his face and posture were not those of one who was sad or angry.
“You people blame us for everything, don’t you?” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“If there is a fire, it’s a human’s fault. If there is an earthquake, it’s a human’s fault. If a little Boreray boy drinks all their apple juice in one gulp, it’s a human’s fault.”
“So, getting back on topic, where did these “Soldier crabs” come from anyway? We have visited this lake for over two years and never seen even a glimpse?” Tamara asked. Samuel looked back to the slowly advancing army, and several ideas flashed through his head.
“Maybe they have been dormant up until now; perhaps they make a large circle around the lake shore, and it’s simply luck that we were here on the day they passed by, or maybe the migrated here from somewhere else.”
They watched the crabs' ceaseless march until Tamara said, “These things are still giving me the creeps. Can we go now?” Samuel could not argue that there was something eerie about all of these animals appearing, seemingly, from nowhere; however, there was still one thing he had to be certain of.
“You think you could draw one from memory?” he asked.
Tamara’s face contorted in a scowl. Samuel, for all his good points, could become far too focused on his research, which often caused him to become ignorant of other people.
Yet she knew sitting here yelling at him would accomplish nothing, so she told him the truth: “Yes, can we go now!” Samuel nodded and then slid off the rock. Tamara copied him, and they both slinked back to the cover of the trees.
Now that she was beneath the canopy, Tamara let out an enormous sigh of relief as the anxiety slowly left, and the close air warmed her body. On the other hand, Samuel began to chafe at the stagnant air while his head began to bead with sweat, but it was nothing he had not experienced before, so he gritted his teeth and bared with it.
With their plans now ruined, Tamara and Samuel wandered aimlessly through the woods, chatting about what they could do to fill the rest of the day. Several ideas arose, including visiting a nearby waterfall and a set of monument stones, but none truly appealed to them.
In the end, Tamara said, “how about we just call it a day?”
Samuel was happy about this. Tamara was his only form of human contact, yet he could not deny the pointlessness of wandering around the woods, so he said, “Ok, but let’s take the long way.”
Samuel heard a sound above him and saw a red squirrel scampering through the trees.
“Is it difficult?” Tamara asked.
Samuel looked at Tamara and replied, “Well, it can give me a crick in my neck sometimes.”
Tamara let out a short laugh and clarified, “No, I mean, is it difficult being so inquisitive? It looks exhausting.”
He was not entirely sure what she meant by that. To Samuel, Tamara was every bit as curious as him, so he stated: “you tell me, you went out looking for me just because you wanted to know.”
“True,” answered Tamara, “and everyone has always said that I am always asking questions, but you’re like a boar that just ate sugar beat.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “But I do know that people always told me, when I was a boy, that humans are, by their nature, infinitely curious, but personally, I think that it’s just how I was born.” there was a pause, and he quickly added, “just like you.”
Tamara’s fingers started to numb as she brushed them against the bark of passing trees. She took a good look at the trees around her. Tamara had lived her entire life sheltered by these trees. This place was her home, her family’s home and her friend’s home, and she loved it, a perfect example of the innate beauty of nature.
Samuel, however, was of a different opinion this forest disturbed him, though this feeling had diminished with time. The trees all grew in perfect symmetry, four and a half strides form each other.
From Tamara’s perspective, there was nothing strange about this, yet Samuel often said that this should not be possible, that the wood should be a mess and that the trees should grow in an unorganised fashion. Yet to Tamara, the idea of messy forests was just as impossible as a structured one was to him.
Noon came and went, and Samuel’s stomach began to rumble. His breakfast was becoming a distant memory; he thought he might be able to bear it for another hour or so, but as they travelled closer to the village, Tamara started to become irritated by Samuel’s constant growling.
“We need to find you something to eat before that sound drives me nuts!” Tamara stated bluntly.
“That’s all well and good, my dear, so long as you can materialise food out of the aether,” answered Samuel, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.
Tamara did not know what the aether was, but it did not matter. “No, but I do know a nearby tree with some great fruit in it,” she replied.
Samuel found this strange for two reasons. Firstly, he found it very difficult to believe there was a source of food in this forest that either he had not found, or Tamara had not told him about yet.
Secondly that, Tamara would know much about something she could not eat. Tamara was strictly carnivorous; she ate nothing but meat.
He wanted answers fast and asked: “So why haven’t you told me about this before?”
“Because I can’t stand the smell, that’s why, and I didn’t want you stinking up the place,” she explained.
“If it smells disgusting, what makes you think I will eat it?” he asked.
“Because the Boreray can’t get enough of it, some of them say that they taste like all the best parts of every fruit and vegetable we grow, which is a shame because they smell like all the worst,” she added.
He asked no more questions. He was too busy thinking; this fruit sounded so familiar, but he could not remember. The need to survive day in day out had pushed most of his standard learning, from school and university to the back of his mind, not forgotten mind you just buried.
I'm back with Tamara and Samuel latest adventure. If you like what you've read so far and want to know where it's going you can find the complete story by following the links below.
e-book(US/UK/CA/AU/DE)
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If you do decide to read ahead please leave a review or rating, every single one helps immensely, and helps me keep doing what I'm doing.
Also the e-book will be at a reduced price until the last chapter it published on reddit.

The only daughter of the pagan king Damon, St. Dymphna took after her Catholic mother in faith and beauty. She was born in 7th-century Ireland and when she was 14 years old, she consecrated herself to Christ and took a vow of virginity. Shortly thereafter, her mother died. The king had loved his wife deeply, and in the aftermath of her death his mental health sharply deteriorated. After searching fruitlessly, the king began to concupiscently desire his daughter because of her resemblance to her mother.
When Dymphna learned of her father's intentions, she swore to uphold her vows and fled his court along with her confessor Fr. Gerebernus, two trusted servants, and the king's fool. Together they sailed towards the continent, eventually landing in Geel, Belgium, where Dymphna built a hospice for the poor and sick. However, it was through the use of her wealth that her father would eventually ascertain her whereabouts. The king ordered his soldiers to kill Fr. Gerebernus and tried to force Dymphna to return with him to Ireland, but she resisted. Furious, Damon drew his sword and struck off his daughter's head. She was 15 years old when she was martyred.
In 1349, a church honoring St. Dymphna was built in Geel. By 1480, so many pilgrims were coming from all over Europe, seeking treatment for psychiatric disorders that the church housing for them was expanded. Soon the sanctuary for those considered "mad" was again full to overflowing, and the townspeople began taking them into their own homes. Thus began a tradition for the ongoing care of those with psychiatric conditions that has endured for over 500 years and is still studied and admired today. Patients were, and still are, taken into the homes of Geel's inhabitants. Never called patients, they are called “boarders,” and are treated as ordinary and useful members of the town. They are treated as members of the host family. They work, most often in menial labour, and in return, they become part of the community. Some stay a few months, some decades, some for their entire lives. At its peak in the 1930s, over 4,000 “boarders” were housed with the town's inhabitants.

Our Lord said, “Amen, Amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat. But if it died, it brings forth much fruit.” (John 12:24-25)

The martyrdom of St. Dymphna shows us the fruit of charity from uniting your life to Christ’s Passion. May the example and intercession of St. Dymphna help us to grow in devotion and fidelity to Christ and His Gospel, for the good of our neighbors and for the greater glory of God.

In light of all the doomposting and wariness about the future of Firefly in the story after the events of 2.0-2.2, I wanted to compile some known information to piece together a theory on why she is likely joining the express in 2.3, and hopefully sparking a positive conversation about it. Some things I will be referencing will be spoilers for 2.3 so if you'd like to remain completely spoiler free, I suggest avoiding this post. You have been warned.
So, before I begin with the 2.3 leaks, I'd first like to take a step back and look at the character as a whole. Firefly, in the short time she has been in the story has become immensely popular within the community, but beyond that she has also had quite an effect on the MC. Regardless of whatever ships you do and don't subscribe to and even the choices you make in game, it's undeniable that the MC has feelings/an attachment for our girl and that these are reciprocated by Firefly (Again, you are free to believe if these are romantic feelings or not, though I believe it leans toward the former). The MC choosing to trust in Firefly despite her initial secrecy in 2.0, Firefly willing to risk exposing herself as Sam (A known Stellaron Hunter and wanted criminal) to protect herself and the MC (This might be an over analysis on my part, but her clenching her fists while being held by "S-U-D" and showing hesitation rather than fear leads me to believe this is the case) during their initial encounter with "Something Unto Death", her identity as Sam being a well kept secret and one she is not eager to reveal to just anyone, her "death" by "Something Unto Death" bringing the MC to tears and causing them to become noticeably crestfallen, even to the point of getting snippy with Acheron. In the finale of 2.1 and beginning of 2.2, past the initial shock of Sam, they are understanding of Firefly's secrecy and even trust her when she mentions her "death" leading to her discovery of Dreamflux Reef and the secrets of the dream. In this same scene they even describe the MCs inner thoughts with the scene stating "Innumerable voices resonated through the symphony of the memoria, roaring like thunder, and among them, one echo stood out with exceptional clarity, you knew it came from the girl beside you, your hearts beating to the same rhythm, peaceful, and even more peaceful.". Of course there were also the two “dates” between the MC and Firefly. To a character with ELS, every moment spent out of her medical cabin is precious, and she chooses to spend those moments with the MC as Firefly, rather than Sam, a choice that can be seen as unnecessary past her initial purpose on Penacony with Elio's script, and during the second "date", despite the urgency of the situation and Firefly herself reminding the MC of their timer, she still goofs off with them during the different trials. Capping this off is her "unwavering dedication", which is what allowed Acheron and the others to find the MC after Ena's dream.
Now, I didn't write this massive text wall just to promote the MC x Firefly ship, instead I want to draw your attention specifically to the bond they've developed. Despite the short amount of time spent together, it's quite obvious that Mihoyo went out of their way to emphasize this connection. I know many people were disappointed with the scenes between the two in 2.2, specifically in regards to them MC not showing the desired reaction at the reveal of Firefly not only being alive, but also her identity as Sam. Though I too expected something more, I believe this was intentional on Hoyo's part as they are most likely saving the heart to heart for the one on one scene in 2.3. Having said all of this, I want you to ask yourself, what was the point of all of this? The other Stellaron Hunters have gotten nowhere near this amount of screentime or specifically developed such a strong bond with the MC, in fact, not even other characters like March, Dan Heng, Himeko or Welt are this close to the MC. Why write in a fake out death at all if this character wasn't important? Purely for shock factor? Why bother making her consistently close to the MC? (Most characters get a single patch to really interact with the MC, upon the release of 2.3, that would mark her third patch being relevant to the plot and interacting with the MC. This is a recurring thing across multiple Hoyoverse titles, think of Ayaka from Genshin as a prime example, a character which has largely fallen to the wayside and being relegated as a side character after her single patch).
The people at Mihoyo aren't amateur storytellers like some think they are, and I believe everything they've done is to make this connection seem all the more important for one reason. Firefly is going to join the express, her bond with the Trailblazer serving as the catalyst. She's said herself that she respects the Trailblaze and has even found herself resonating with their ideals. The events of 2.2 serve as evidence of this, with her being able to see Clockie (Though not much is known about him, it seems that as a Trailblaze entity, he is only able to be seen by those with a connection to the Trailblaze), and standing side by side with the Astral Express in their battle of beliefs against Sunday. Though I believe the trailblaze aspect plays a large choice, I'd also like to take a look at her script from Elio, which I believe to be a major piece of the puzzle. The script states she will experience three deaths on Penacony. Some people may argue that she has already experienced those three with the second being when she traveled with the MC to Dreamflux Reef and the third being related to what Acheron mentions at the end of 2.2. I don't believe traveling to Dreamflux Reef counts towards that death tally as it would actually make it four deaths, seeing as when she was first killed she awoke in her medical cabin, then later traveled to Dreamflux Reef. Following this, it's reasonable to say she's only experienced two so far, the initial death from being stabbed and from Acheron. I believe this third death is not a literal one. Death has a multitude of meanings beyond just dying/passing away. Using the Tarot as an example, death can also be used to describe a great change. I propose that this great change is the "death" of Stellaron Hunter Sam. Looking at the playable version of Firefly, an obvious change has taken place, that being the green energy that leaks out from within and the manifestation of Firefly's blades which could be seen as Firefly establishing more of herself within the identity of SAM. Beyond the changes to the SAM suit itself, I find it a little odd that they deliberately have Firefly walk around as herself in the overworld, rather than the suit, but I concede that this choice could just be so people can see the waifu that they pulled and might have no real significance. All of this is information that has already been revealed to us, whether directly through the events of the story, or the leaked gameplay of Firefly. Next I would like to discuss leaks that support this idea of Firefly joining the AE crew.
Many people believe that after the events of 2.3, the MC and Firefly will part ways, with Firefly going back to the Stellaron Hunters for a few planets. I don't believe this to be the case for two main reasons, the first being the new event in 2.3 and the second being the new BP icons. The event is said to be one in which we play games with Firefly, March, and Silverwolf, with Silverwolf mentioning that she could never get Firefly to play games with her, but Firefly accepts this time around because she is asked by the MC. Now, don't you find this lineup kind of strange? Specifically the presence of March 7th. If Firefly was departing Penacony after the story of 2.3, why would she show up in an event with the MC and March? It's not as if events in Star Rail aren't canon either, so it doesn't make sense for Firefly to be there if we are assuming that she is leaving during the epilogue of 2.3. I believe this is supported by her new BP icon in which she can be seen wearing a red, black, and gold outfit. These are exactly the colors of the express and other express members have icons which share this same color scheme. Even Sam's icon has red that is normally not present on his design. The description for the icon also states Firefly: Visionary, Firefly stepping forwards into the future "There is only one destiny, but I still have the right to make my choice". Sam's icon follows a similar format being titled Visionary and mentioning stepping forward into the future, with his quote stating "I will fulfill SAM's mission and see a new future". Of course BP icons don't have to mean anything and in most cases are just the characters in a different outfit, but doesn't this seem like a really strange choice? Firefly doesn't have red as part of her color scheme, so putting her in an outfit that is explicitly AE colors seems like a deliberate choice, not to mention the fact that the icon references her stepping forward into the future, or if you want to look at another way, blazing a trail to her new future. In addition to this, the word "Choice" has significance, especially if we have this Astral Express outfit to set the context. A stellaron hunter knows exactly how meaningless their choices are, yet Firefly is the only one who is defiant in regards to the script and her predetermined end. Not just her own end, but even in the missions she is given, she chooses to do things that can be seen as futile like actively choosing to not read certain parts of the script as to remain ignorant and potentially influence said script, even if the predetermined outcome inevitably comes to pass despite her "obstruction". With all of this it seems like a no brainer that she would join the group that is all about making your own choices, helping the people you want to help, and doing the things you want to do, not to mention the resources she would have access to in terms of potentially curing her illness as a member of the Astral Express, a respected group with many powerful allies and connections willing to assist, versus being in a criminal organization where she follows a script that may not have the ending she wants.
I know I just did a whole lot of yapping so I appreciate anyone taking the time to read the theories and speculations of a delusional fan huffing way too much copium. I truly believe there is merit to what I’m saying, but only time will tell if I hit the mark or if I should never come up with a theory again. Having said all that, I’d love to hear from the community what you all think about this, even if it’s in opposition to what I’m saying.

My name was slandered SO badly by the quinte.ca news that it is literally criminal and VERY VERY messed up.
According to this article I am a Sex Predator and was trying to lure a 13 year old for sex using the internet.(!!!!!)
This is a long story so I’m going to do my best at condensing it so people actually read it.
This is what happened: With a fair amount of spare time on my hands I decided to do something that would create a positive, long lasting impact. I knew there had to be some real sex predators in a city this size so I decided to see if any ADULTS online were interested and fully follow through with preying on a minor. Less than a few minutes after creating a profile I was contacted by a Belleville Resident who indicated DIRECTLY to me that he was “ok” with the decoys age.

I told him my age was TWELVE. 

Within the first 5 minutes of the conversation. So for the next five days he was essentially grooming who he believed was 12 year old and attempting to meet him that upcoming weekend. At no time did I initiate or direct the conversation to move in the dirty direction. I wanted to not only provide as much solid evidence as possible for the police, but I was thinking forward to do the same for the future prosecution when this case ultimately reached the Court….( at least In my mind, this is what I was doing it for! )
Speaking to him about 45 minutes each day I was shocked at how this was actually happening. Shocked at how quickly, unaffected and confident he was to be luring a 12 year old to his apartment.
Most disturbing was the bits of information that was confessed to me. How he “had to be really careful” because he is already a registered sex offender due to being caught with another minor years ago, and how he “had multiple other people your age” in the past which he had never been caught for.
So obviously by the time I was aware of that I was Deadset at not only catching and exposing this creep but see to it that he gets his rightful spot back in a prison cell.

Make no mistake I took screenshots of EVERY message/text/conversations/photos. 

( I had taken photos of myself and used an age altering app which was procured freely from Apple. ) Upon his request I sent multiple Altered selfies over those five days in the various poses he was asking for. Obviously this was done to prove that the decoy was in fact “real”. Bam. That’s it. It was Friday and this registered sex offender “PDF File” was in FULL BELIEF and confident that a Minor was on the way to his apartment to “teach him” how to have sex.
I went just outside the meeting area a bit early and sat down with my Sony 500 video camera around my neck and was prepared to begin the video, capturing him as he went directly to the prearranged location. He was going with the quickness and attempting to hold back the huge shit eating grin on his face. Disgusting. Vile. True evil.
So I walked up to him while recording and made a call from my cellphone to his which I used to instantly tell him off the bat: “YOU’RE FKD!” Also by doing this at that moment I was putting him in a position (ON CAMERA mind you) which he had zero opportunity to deny anything.

Over the next 20-30 minutes He confessed to everything that was said during the conversations. Instead of me questioning him, initially I had told him to tell me exactly why he was there, and for him to tell me (the camera) everything that was in those terrible and unbelievable messages. 

I grilled him like a ribeye.
After having gathered what I believed to be enough evidence and having him vocally express ( One more and last time) directly to the camera why he was there at that precise moment and what it was he had expected to go down that day in his apartment, I decided to end recording, and leave.
With my adrenaline pumping, I left. Forgetting to do what could’ve been the most important thing, not for exposing him or the Court, but for ME. . . Call the cops. I called them about 10 minutes into the walk back to my home. I told the Officer everything that had just happened. Including the prior five days leading up to this event. I was praised for doing what I had done by this Officer but was informed that the “Detective” responsible for this “crime category” was already off duty and wouldn’t be returning until Monday.
On Monday I received a phone call from that Officer and TRIED to explain everything. It was like I was speaking another language to him. He REPEATEDLY tried to change what I was telling him. For example; I explained how I was the decoy and that there did NOT EXIST AN ACTUAL MINOR involved here, and then he would say: “so you and this sex offender ‘hooked up’ and tried to get a ‘13’ year old over to HIS house” !!!!! It was if he was Trolling. He simply could not, or did not WANT TO understand what happened. “It’s like a STING OPERATION” I finally said to him. I told him this guys name and where he lived. I even knew his birthdate from the convos with the Decoy. So this “detective” in charge of investigating a very serious category of crime in this city KNEW that this predator is a Registered Sex Offender. He KNEW that I was in possession of a litany of irrefutable evidence. Yet was totally incompetent and put me down as Suspect #1 from the start. For not a single reason. He denied my requests to come down and SHOW HIM THE FRICKIN’ EVIDENCE. He did not even want to see the video confession!!! Nothing happened. He said it was now an “open case” and I had a case number. Deflated. Flabbergasted. I was [again] in shock. After weeks of waiting, I ended up putting the entire video of sicko confessing and me grilling him on YouTube. My genuine motive from the start was to make a positive impact on the community. To potentially stop a child from being victimized by a predator. I felt let down the police response. Little did I know what was to come SIX months later. The cops raided the house I was living in.
I was immediately handcuffed and told that I was arrested for “LURING A MINOR” !!!! I was literally paralyzed. With at LEAST HALF A DOZEN POLICE OFFICERS AND AN EQUALLY UNNECESSARILY LARGE AMOUNT OF SUVS PARKED ON THE DRIVEWAY, LAWN, AND ONE OF THE BUSIEST ROADS IN THE CITY. RED AND BLUES FLASHING ON ALL OF THEM. W h a t . T h e . F o c k ! ? ! They went up to my neatly organized room and searched it over discovering of course nothing but my phone. Snatching it with a joy like they had just successfully done something significant. I had 5-7 cops surrounding me in a semi circle after arriving at the Jail as I prepared to go inside a cell. They even shackled my feet. I know from watching cops and the like on YouTube to always exercise the right to remain silent. There was nothing I could do or say at that point which would help and I definitely didn’t resist the arrest so it really must’ve been a slow day. Eh guys? That and/or the overly incompetent rookie had relayed to his colleagues and obviously his Superiors to get the raid and arrest warrant his own personal story that he had recreated. Unfriggenbelieveable! It’s SO ABSURD THERE IS NO PROPER WORDS TO EXPRESS HOW IT FEELS TO GO THROUGH THIS! Doing something I considered not just “Right”, but Honourable, Justified, and definitely NOT illegal! How the hell did a JUDGE sign an arrest AND RAID Warrant on me with ZERO evidence, physical, concrete, or even circumstantial?? Not a single reason lawfully or otherwise for them to raid, arrest, shackle my feet and throw me in a jail cell for hours, and then criminally charge me with “Luring of a Minor”. Evidently, according to this news article the police had conducted a Six Month Investigation. Huh? Of What?! On Who?!
Now, Finally, The News Article: The information printed in any news article requires a source, so all of this information had to have only been provided by the police department. This article was printed at 9 in the morning the very next day of the arrest and raid. So of course this was all information provided from police.

This is what the dumbass, rookie, ignorant cop fabricated for no actual real reason: 

“Two men were arrested yesterday after a Six Month long Investigation revealed that the men had ‘BOTH’ believed that they were speaking with a ‘13’ year old boy online. Registered sex offender (the real predators name) and another known sex offender ( my name) are each charged with Luring of a Minor. (Real predators name again) is also charged with using an electronic device to lure a Minor, and breach of probation.”

My LandLord happened to be home at the time of the Raid, and he had also (I guess being suspicious after the raid,) read the article online which is quoted directly above. 

Which meant that he would be evicting me from the property, and I can’t blame him. With that article being read by my roommates and hisself I can’t really blame him for that either.
The charges against myself were eventually dropped, of course. About 18 months later! My phone being confiscated in the raid in order to access everything on there was also given back to me. They played immature and unprofessional games with that as well; returning my property. Such as : come in this day, your phone is ready to be released now. Show up. “Oh so and so thought it was ready but we don’t have it yet.” Weeks later. Get another call saying it is in fact ready now. Show up. “There is no one working in the evidence locker today, there will be in two days.” Screw them! I show up ten days late and what do you know? My property is actually there for me, and I finally get it back. Of course having had to purchase new phone in the meantime. Worse yet, I can’t recall the password and it was before facial recognition (not like that would matter) and after the fingerprint touch button. So it’s just a brick now.
That’s the least of my concern, as that bullshit article remains up, and the YouTube video had been taken down for some privacy violation nonsense.
After paying the criminal defence attorneys’ invoice(s), I couldn’t afford the 6K being asked by EVERY attorney I had reached out to.
So there, that’s one of many of my Unbelievably Insane Life’s stories. I suppose I didn’t provide the short version. Even though I have sincerely tried to keep it all to a minimum by leaving out plenty of details and significant events, this ended up being the Mid Length version.