How you know aquarius man loves you

Hey everyone! Found out I passed this past Wednesday, and figured I'd do a writeup now that I have some time. Hope you all find some of this helpful!
Background: USMD, about to be MS3 this summer, 2yr preclinical. Used Anking all throughout preclinical and matured about 75% of it, but tbh slacked on reviews starting January of this year. Decided to take 5 weeks of dedicated.
Dedicated Study: Saturdays were my NBME days + review, Sunday off. Rest of the week was studying weaknesses based on the previous exam.

• UWorld -- Did around 80-100 questions a day. Blocks were a middle ground between mixed and focused in which I would pair topics that tended to overlap together -- for instance, having a block with cardiovascular, pulm, and heme. If there was a topic I really wanted to hammer (say heme), I'd do a 20q block of ONLY heme, and then another 20q block of heme/cardio/pulm.
• Anki -- Gave up doing my reviews, instead made a separate deck of cards that I made for only incorrects from UWorld and NBME. Keeping up with these cards on incorrects is honestly key if you're an anki user.
• First Aid -- Yes, use it. Never did the whole "read it cover to cover" thing, used it as a reference when I had specific topics I knew I needed to review.
• Pathoma/BnB/Sketchy -- Pathoma 1-3 is a necessity. Sketchy is good for micro/pharm. Otherwise, I would rarely actually watch videos during my dedicated because I found it a time sink. The only time I would sit and watch a video if it was a topic I had completely forgotten or found extremely confusing. Aside from that, would just use FA as my way to review things.
• 100 Concepts Anatomy -- I found it helpful, broke it up and went through it within a week. Found the anatomy on uppelower extremity, GI, and GU to be most helpful.
• Mehlman Docs -- I tried to go through these, my brain hated them, but your brain might love them, so give them a try. Arrows definitely seemed to be the most useful if anything though.

Scores: I want to emphasize first and foremost, you DO NOT need to have scores like mine to pass! It is nice to have a buffer, but don't be intimidated by mine nor other people's scores on Reddit when they're 70+. There's a reason why around 65 is the goal -- trust the NBMEs and the fact that you'd have a very high chance of passing by then.
UWorld: 70% correct with 69% (nice) used NBME 25: 68% NBME 27: 70% NBME 28: 72% NBME 29: 74% NBME 30: 79% NBME 31: 81% Free 120 (2024): 80%
Test Day: Honestly, I was more anxious the night before than the day of. Morning of the exam, I literally was just listening to music on the drive there, and after a few of questions of the first block was able to fully chill out. Just definitely be confident in your preparation and in your scores! Real exam is definitely most similar to the Free 120 -- stems are slightly longer than most of the NBMEs, but I didn't really find them EXTREMELY long or an issue; typically finished blocks with 10-15 minutes left unless it was a harder block for me. In general though, it genuinely is a reasonable exam. You'll get a couple questions where you'll have no idea what the answer is, but otherwise most of the exam will be things you have seen. When I finished, I felt pretty neutral about the exam and how it went, but if you feel bad afterwards -- that is completely normal!
General Tips:

1. You don't need to know everything, you only need to know enough. Really though, don't get bogged down on tiny details that *may* pop up on the exam -- focus on patterns you see in NBMEs, recognizing clinical presentations for HY pathology, and hone in on being able to figure out an answer even if you only know part of what it's talking about.
2. Force yourself to study your weaknesses. If it's hard for you, then you're studying the right thing. Studying your weaknesses is the biggest key in making increases in your score, and is probably the main reason why I was able to consistently increase my score each week. I would look at your previous NBME, identify the 2-3 areas that you had the lowest scores in, and split up your time throughout the week to focus on those areas. Be flexible and readjust each week. Don't bother with studying things that you're already doing well with -- for instance, I was consistently doing well with neuro and didn't review it at all until my last week of studying.
3. Carefully review UWorld explanations and NBMEs. This is how you learn! With UWorld, I would read the explanations for incorrects fully + make 1-2 anki cards on it, and for those I got correct, I'd make sure my reasoning was right and only read the learning objective at the end. For NBMEs, the explanations are very frustrating to learn from, but still read them, and if I was still confused, I'd just make a list of topics to revisit in FA later.
4. Analyze NBME (or even UWorld) stems. Something I found myself doing is getting down to a 50/50, and then choosing the wrong answer. But there is ALWAYS something in the stem that the question writer wants you to pick up on to choose the correct answer. I found that while I was reviewing NBMEs, taking a few seconds to look at the stem again and basically ask "What is the key piece of info that I missed?" is super helpful in pattern recognition and learning how NBME tends to test certain topics.
5. Take care of yourself! It's so easy to get wrapped up in studying and feel like there are a billion things that you still haven't reviewed. Of course don't take this too far, but be sure to take at least one day off each week, and if you're really not feeling it, take an extra day off. There were a few weeks where my brain really wasn't into studying, and I'd only be able to get 40 UWorld questions done, if even that. And that's ok! Breaks are needed.

Anyways, hope this is all helpful. Feel free to comment or pm me any questions, and best of luck to you all and your studies!

So, always been a fan of cars and went to Thorpe Park today. Been on Stealth many times before I love it, but as I left I realized on a sign it said "real American muscle car goes 0-80 in 1.8 seconds names Stealth.' Or something along then lines as you exit. It's annoying me how I didn't get a pic to know what the name of the car is. Does anyone know? I reckon either a Bell Air 30-50s a Nash metropolitan or a c1 vette or even a GAZ-24 "Volga" I don't know if anyone could tell me what car its based on be a big help or has a pic of the sign on the building wall. People say F1 but wouldn't make sense due to the Car shape.

My mother had the great idea to embezzle all the money from the travel company she managed in the 90’s.
She ran away to hide her self without any call, or message for the 10 years that she had ongoing issues with the justice and with the Interpol.
She eventually tried to came back onto our life after the law restrictions were lifted. And, somehow that worked in the family too as could effort very expensive lawyers.
Unfortunately, as a way to cope the has created an imaginary world since she left. In which she pretends to be me the some sort of the Dalia Lama secret sister or something like that. But in which, she has never accepted nor of the things that she did. It does not matter what the Interpol said, nor the newspaper, the legal papers, she continues defends her innocence.
At this point, I am old enough to realise she is sick. But, it is not something that takes away the burden nor the pain.
She oficially, came back 20 years ago. As you can imagine her mental state after getting off such a thing enabled her to believe she’s the smartest person alive…… Unfortunately, she has not learnt anything from her past mistakes, and she keeps making undoubtable profits from her new business partners( as well as being the fiduciary of her rich friend with dementia)
To make things clear, she already tried to change her friend’s will, as she thought that it was uniquely distributed. Once again, I had to sit her down and explain to her that about the consequences. Mostly, because her rich friend also comes from a powerful family……
After a lot of struggles, and successfully ran away from her, and all the shit that came behind due the fact that I ran away. Every now and then she just send some money hoping that I will forget her.
This time, she sold a massive house and the check is quite huge. However, even if I know that the biggest trauma of my life is linked to it, and I am not just to forgive because she tries to buy my love. I cannot stop feeling like shit. Feeling mortified because I am know that this money comes from the broken dreams of a lots of families, but also because I know that she is using this a way to prove to our family how much she loves me.
I already told her, that I don’t want to give her the wrong impression. That if she is giving me money as a way to buy my forgiveness, she is once again pursuing the wrong route.
I cannot stop feeling bad for the money. I have a good job. But, I am far from being rich, but luckily a simple life is more that enough for me.
I don’t know own anything, and this might be the only way to effort a house based the latest economy. But, I cannot stop feeling like the broken brat that is taking the money that a lot of families that to work really hard to get.
Therefore, I find myself lost. Trying to figure out what’s the best approach in here

I am done, I lost everything, disappointed my family, my friends even myself, I score 60% in my 12th board exams, don't have any good college, disappointed everyone, failed everyone's expectations...I literally wanna die, I cannot attempt $uI¢iDe...what if I fail in that too? What if I survive? I won't be able to make an eye contact with anyone! I just want my de@th to come to me ASAP, naturally, or just someone kiII me, I just don't know what I am typing rn and I can't even explain it to y'all what I am feeling rn...people tell me that I should have studied evev harder...I can't explain to them, how much effort I made and why was I not able to go beyond that, why I just procrastinated everything...it's it's like u are paralyzed and a demon is coming towards you...u want to move, but u are not able to move...that is the closest and best explanation I can give...idk man idk what I am doing rn and what will be my future, m just a looser that fucked up everything and doesn't even know why

So I was blind for a long time {3+ years} and could read these WEBTOONs, I finally got sight back and idk how to feel. It was my favorite art style, I loved the stories, and I just want them back I really missed reading these stories when I was blind. The webtoons didn’t look like most other webtoons, instead the art style is vibrant, beautiful, and interesting. I can’t get over how pretty and beautiful it was and it allowed characters so much facial expression, the webtoons art was just perfect and a truly a unique style compared to others. The story was cute and whole some and made me giggle all the time. Your romance and premise was heart warming, I never got to read delinquent girl except for a few remaining chapters, but what I did read I loved. Point is if you see this please at least post back all the chapters that were previously written I would love just to read what I missed for all your webtoons.o Riaru X Usagi ❤️I heard rumors Usagi passed and I just wanted to say as readers we love the authors. Please don’t take away the thing that helped us get to know Usagi. I’m not asking for you to write new ones just return what was already created Riaru! From a dear fan whom loves you both
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Hello tall dudes and dudettes. I am a 29 year old girl from Panama for context. My height is 5 ft 9 (5 ft 10 or more if I use heels). I just got ghosted by a 6 ft 5 guy who was playing games with me and he is not even that handsome facially wise at least. He did tell me when he was on Tinder he had more than 1 woman get excited bcus of how tall he was so apparently he didn't have issues getting women to be attracted to him. We went on 2 dates together and even though his face is not very attractive (he has a big nose and he is kinda chubby) he still had the audacity to stop replying to my texts so I am wondering if this is a tall guy thing no matter how ugly they are?
The problem is I need my bf/husband to be taller than me because I am already tall in general and it just feels so nice to be hugged and loved by a man who towers over you. I dated a guy the same height as me for like 3 months and I couldn't even bring myself to be sexually attracted to him so we never had sex even though I met his family and friends. With my tall ex boyfriends I did go all the way though 🙈
So my question to the tall guys in this sub is: Do you guys find it easy to get women? Even if you are not that physically attractive? Please be honest.
Thanks guys

I went to a party yesterday. I felt optimistic, i wanted to socialise because i have been so isolated recently. My old friend group was there. Someone who i had a HUGE falling out with, because they talked down to me and were overall not nice was there. We spoke normally. It was VERY strange, but welcomed, because we were best friends. It was fun! i felt somewhat included, some weird looks or comments here or there but i chalked it up to me being paranoid since i havent socialised and have been quite isolated.
Then the "tea time" happened. I am not exaggerating, fifteen people in a circle in the garden in blankets, used their trauma as entertainment for the party. Very intimate details of many people i did not consent to hear. I thought I WAS the weird one being horrified, because, everyone else seemed fine. I left early, and cried on the way home.
I found out today, the day after the party, nobody wanted me there, and the person i had a HUGE falling out with was actually being "two faced" and expressed immense relief when i left the party to everyone there. If they talk shit about others and use others "down fall" as story time, i know i will be next. I have cut contact. The kicker? THEY ARE ALL AUTISTIC / ADHD.
I feel so embarrassed i didn't realise the person i had a BIG falling out with wasn't actually being nice to me. I am so upset that i know they all don't like me.
This is all to say, this happens. A LOT. All of my close friendships have blown up in my face because of

1. Them not communicating something i am doing or saying is hurting them, then blowing up at me and ending the friendship because it should've been "obvious"
2. Them deciding to become my bully
3. Me being too mentally ill for them (not anymore, i have worked on this and i am very proud of my boundaries and way of handling my mental illness)

How do i try and make friends, when it feels like this pattern keeps happening? I just want friends, but, all of the people i have tried to be friends with have ended up as being very drama loving and self cantered. I used to be that, but i have grown out of it. I was like that to mask, and potentially they are too.
Blegh. Thank you for reading <3

It’s my first time posting here and ohmygod. I just wanna say that I love this show so much. I started watching during its peak back in covid season, I think at around 2020-2021 I guess, then only stopped mid-season 4 bc I was getting so bored when the plot took a turn and suddenly they were all “working for the company” and tbh the whole Scylla plotline is just meh. Then I only picked up right where I left off JUST THIS YEAR, exactly this month, and I have never been so happy coming back to a show I’ve abandoned. The love I have for the show, the characters, the plot, the actors and everything else was relived. It was SOOO good. I miss(ed) having a 10/10 show to look forward to 🥲
Anyway, this is just the list of thoughts and questions I have bc I personally think there are some stuff that went unanswered and/or was never given a proper ending to (?). So here goes:

1. Whatever happened to the recurrence of Michael’s “being sick” plot and the return of his nosebleeds in the season finale of s04? I feel like that subplot just suddenly disappeared with no explanation cause suddenly he was battling it out in Yemen. YEMEN ffs 💀 one day he was having symptoms again and then poof! Suddenly he’s alive and stronger than he’s ever been. I wanted answers cause that was such a huge factor !!
   
2. What happened with Gretchen? Lol I get that she stayed in prison but is that really it? I was also hoping Sara would somehow have a scene wherein she took the wood keychain to Emily.
   
3. The Ending aka the very last episode. Omg. Had such HUGE potential. It was lacking. Where is LJ in the ending? And really? I don’t like that they wrote off Lincoln’s old girlfriend (forgot her name but she was Whistler’s gf) JUST LIKE THAT. They even had a scene in the surf shop. They seemed like a good team. She was there with him post-Michael’s death. The sheba-lincoln loveteam feels forced. And what even were they looking at in the park?!?? Honestly, it feels like it’s just another episode mid-season. PB fans and the characters deserved a better ending. The montage of the s04 finale, for example. That’s the standard. Made me cry and gave me chills.
   
4. T-Bag deserved a better ending. Not having his son killed and him ending up in Fox River. AGAIN.
   
5. Speaking of t-bag, I wanna know what was the reasoning behind the subplot of him getting his prosthetic hand fixed??? Like I was expecting to get answers at the end but was it really necessary??? It feels disconnected tbh. When the prosthetics came to light I even thought that it was a hint to michael faking his own death. But I got zero. Nada 💀 it was so unnecessary.
   
6. Michael’s picture in Sanaa. Who took the damn picture and how??? Just another case of Left Unexplained 😭 I wanted to know the story behind it so bad. All of it.
   
7. I don’t like the subplot that Sara remarried. Lol. So off-brand. That was the love of her life! The way I knew her the entire series, that’s something that she wouldn’t do idk. Feels forced.
   
8. Speaking of, I had a bad gut feeling abt sara’s husband all along 😂💀
   
9. The acting was lacking. I am speaking only in terms of the scenes wherein Sara was told that Michael might be alive, to the scene where it’s finally confirmed. I don’t know. I expected there to be heavy-drama, I wanted her to wail, to really go all out. I wanted her to be humanized for god’s sake! 7 years later u find out the dead love of your life whom you’ve never gotten to spend a lot of time with even before, COULD BE ALIVE??? Idk I wanted her to go nuts! I ROOTED for her to go crazy! As one should. Both of them actually, esp. when they finally reunited. Cry us a river! This feels like a dream but it isn’t! Where’s the tears of joy and confusion and also anger (esp. for Sara’s part)???
   
10. The Explanation. I wanted the whole explanation to the whole faking the death and Kaniel Outis thing to be told at the end of the ep. Idk it’s just a huge bomb to be dropped on such a mid scene. But I do get lincoln’s sense of urgency though.
    

Might add more to the list when I remember it 😭 want answers to these sooo bad. But hey. PB still one of my fave tv shows of all time. GOATED 🤝🔥💯 pls suggest a tv show like this so I could cure my hangover 🥺

It’s weird. Its hard to explain, so im going to make this hypothetical scenario up so its easier to explain.
To start, I’ll find this one band on the internet. I get obsessed. I listen to their music 24/7. I buy their merch. I learn everything about the band and the bandmates. I wont stop yapping about it to my family and friends. They are on my mind just on my mind. I’m always thinking of them.
Suddenly, I find a show on netflix. Oh shit this looks pretty cool, I think to myself. I binge watch it, get obsessed. I start looking into the actors, I just can’t stop thinking about this show its so good! I have rewatched so much I know the plot. But..oh! I completely forgot about the band that I like..I should go see if they are going on any tour or releasing any music. But..why do I kinda not want to? They just dont..stand out to me anymore. I just wanna watch my show. Maybe I won’t be a fan anymore.
Lets say its…a few months later? I still love this show, I’m definitely a huge fan!! Oh, I got invited to go to an NBA game. Sure, why not go? I go, get obsessed, yeah you know the drill lol. Oh, I completely forgot about the show, its boring now. I’ll leave the fandom. Now, all I think about is the NBA.
Oh, I should try volleyball? Huh, maybe one time. Yep, (as u can tell) i get COMPLETELY obsessed, volleyball is all i think about now, and who cares about the NBA.
yeah, hopefully that explains what im going through. i just want to make myself be able to like all interests and hobby instead of just 1. i just have to find SOMETHING to obsess about. i cant just have no hobby or passion, or what do i do with myself? is my thought process.
whats wrong with me? how do i fix this? why cant i have more than 1 interest or am i fine and im just paranoid!?

I (32F) have been married to my husband (34M) for 6 years. We have 3 kids (oldest son from a prior relationship was 2 when my husband and I reconnected).
We’ve always had horrible, horrible arguments. It’s never gotten better. We get along and care for each other pretty well for the most part but the bad arguments have been a constant. We’ve tried therapy numerous times and still have never been able to ignore the toxic arguments.
The thing that has shifted is I’ve finally become pretty lonely. It feels like we’re two passing ships. It feels like my husband doesn’t care to do anything as a family or even as a couple. We’ll watch half a movie together here or there after I put our youngest to bed but for the most part, free time he gets he games and free time I get I clean or meal prep or do chores.
I’m resentful about how much I’ve always done. All the typical cleaning, the bathrooms, the kitchen (besides dishes by my husband sometimes), the floors, the shopping, the meal planning, the bills, the school stuff, etc etc. I’ve always had a full time job even when he was a stay at home dad.
I’m just so burned out. I feel like the romanticism has died down so much although we still care about each other so much. I feel like he can be committed in certain aspects but kind of thoughtless in lots of ways. I stopped giving him gifts because he never was a gift giver. The ring he proposed to me with never fit me and despite me asking him to ask the seller if he could get it replaced, he never did.
This mixed with the arguing has just become too much. My 5 year old is so afraid of us breaking up but I think we would all just be happier.
This is the closest I’ve felt to wanting it to just end and it makes me so sad. Mainly because my mom still says to this day she wish she would have made things work with my dad despite falling out of love to keep my brother and I happy. I’m so scared of hurting my kids. I’m afraid of what it will do to my oldest son’s relationship with him. But I want to be alone.
TLDR: married for 6 years with 3 kids but constant toxic arguing despite caring for and loving each other. I’m not happy but I’m afraid to hurt my kids. How do you know when to give up?

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

Trigger warning: sexual assault, suicide
I (29f) have been friends with Friend A (40m) and Friend B (39m) for six years after meeting in the office we all work in. About a year and a half ago, A started experiencing severe insomnia and depression. B and I recommended A to seek professional help, but A rejected this for many months until December 2023 when B called emergency services following what we considered to be credible suicidal threats. Since then, A has started therapy and is taking medication for the insomnia and depression. B and I have continued to try to be present friends, listening and offering encouragement. End of March 2023, A confided in us that he was raped as a teenager. I won’t pretend that we landed the response perfectly, but I have apologized for things that I did wrong (not discussing the assault and aftermath) out of fear of making our friendship all about the assault. We have reiterated to him that it was not his fault and that he do not see him any differently.
I believe the situation is toxic. I understand that A is hurting and I can only imagine the burden he’s carrying. As time passes, our relationship with him gets worse as he lashes out saying that we are only pretend friends and is completely isolated. He’ll make passive aggressive comments to us at work and send us expletive ridden texts telling us that we aren’t doing enough, accusing us of abandoning him. We have not disappeared. We’ve all hung outside of work together since this happened. We still talk on a day to day basis, even outside of work. When he expresses feelings of abandonment, we tell him we’re trying to be there for him and ask how we can do better, and he just gets upset. He reminds us not infrequently, almost angrily, that the only reason he’s still alive is because B made that call.
I’m a single mom to two small kids (2 and 4). I’m doing my best to be there but I just cannot offer on call support. In addition to this, there was an indication in about September that A has romantic feelings for me. This all makes my partner very uncomfortable, as he doesn’t want me so emotionally invested in another man but also doesn’t want A to kill himself.
Last night A texted me expressing his feelings of isolation, and within ten minutes as I sat trying to provide a delicate response, he sends an expletive filled mini rant to the group chat with A, B, and me about how he’s done and with an emoji with a gun to his head. I told him I would call him once I put my son to bed, and I did. We spent about an hour on the phone, where he cursed at me and continued to tell I vanished. I told him I wasn’t going to say anything about how I responded in the past because I didn’t want to make it sound like I was making excuses, but that I was sorry for not being what he needed before and I was here. He just got angry and laughed. He demanded an explanation for my approach in different situations, and when I provided them, he just called them BS. He gave me an ultimatum, saying I needed to show I could be a real friend or he would “move on”. I told him he needed to tell me exactly what he had in mind, and eventually he said I needed to be more intentional in asking about his emotional wellbeing and not keeping him at arms length. I told him I could do that.
It turns out that after we hung up, he had the same conversation with B but it ended badly. I woke up to a string of nonsensical texts to the group thread, the last of which said “I'm about to have done dipshits that think the know a damn thing promisr me it's my fault. In reality I love you and want your babies”. I find this to be grossly inappropriate and it makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Such things are disrespectful to both me and my partner. I told him that what he said was not okay, and he responded he was “going to hide in shame” and talking about how much he needs us.
I’ve been yelled at, laughed at, cussed at. Anything I’ve done for this person has been equated to nothing despite the significant turmoil it’s caused in my life. So far I have taken all of this on the chin without blinking but I think a line has been crossed here. This feels like a scheme of self sabotage that I’m caught in the middle of. Trying to establish and maintain healthy boundaries is something I’ve been focusing on since my divorce. How can I do that here? I have to sit next to this person at work and I am not comfortable in this relationship where it stands. I’m at a point where I feel an intense need to protect myself and my relationship — my partner is not going to be okay with this. Am I actually being a bad friend and not realizing it?

Hi there!
In Warzone I love to play the mode Plunder, but I found yesterday that it got changed by "Bloqueo" (in spanish, I don't know how it is i english sorry), like other times in this game. So I thought if there's any place where people can see when the devs plan to change the game modes or in my case, when plunder will be available again? If it exists, I haven't found it... (and if it doesn't exist and you are one of the game devs, please consider making it!)
Thanks in advance, and gg all!

I have been close to best friends with someone who was born into an insanely rich family ever since we were 6 years old so it’s been a friendship for more than a decade and a half. The thing is they have made some decisions regarding dating in the past that have appeared dangerous to me and for the life of me I do not understand. We used to support each other talking about our problems, but it’s so much easier to bounce back for them than it is for me, and while I’m worrying about getting a job or schoolwork, it seems to me that they are creating self-sabotaging situations and do not ever have to face the pressures I do. After giving the same advice for a while and seeing them never really taking it, I feel like I don’t need to worry for someone who literally is not from the same social class as me.
It’s hard because we have been friends for so long and I love them. But I can’t relate anymore. I can see them making an effort to reach out and I do respond, but I don’t really reach out anymore because I don’t know if we have things to talk about. I have quit social media for a while but every time I see their posts on vacation again or doing rich people things, I wonder why we are even friends because I will not be able to have that kind of lifestyle until maybe 10 years later and am currently just grinding and grinding and college and crumbling under life’s pressure. Can you really only be friends from people from your own economic status?
It’s exhausting and I don’t want to hurt their feelings. We are both pretty sensitive so I feel bad for not reaching out, and I’m sure they feel it too, but every time I see their posts I just feel bad about myself. It doesn’t feel good slowly distance yourself from a childhood friend.
Any ideas on how to deal with this? Or I guess how to conduct myself before someone like this and how to hold my ground and not feel bad about this gap?

--⧼ BEGIN Broadcast Message ⧽--
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Priority Level: Urgent
:: From ::
Center Arm of the Emperor, Planet Laran
:: To ::
All Survivors of Fellow Royal Cast Broods
:: Message ::
The Emperor has graciously permitted the use of his Excellency's summer home on Planet Laran, located in the Empire's Center Arm, as a temporary refuge during the unprecedented violent Terran offences against His Holiness and the holiness of the Omni-brood of Ix.
:: Attachments ::
Coordinates and Flight Key
:: Royal Cryptographic Signature ::
Lord La'Ix, The Emperor's Right-Center Arm
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
--⧼ END Broadcast Message ⧽--

earlier

"CURSE THEM! The great houses are going to have my bloody head for this! There is no way this should've happened and under my command too! The Golden Emperor's own exotic holiday world has gone to ash and the only one to blame is going to be me. Well it was basically my watch anyways. Curse. Them. All"
Those were the only legible sounds one could hear among the frantic stamping of one particular Ixian lord as he hurried away through the underbrush of the royal reserve just outside the centre palace. The same Ixian lord that, only hours earlier, was delighting in his typical cooked boar while enjoying his evening's entertainment of a young Terran girl running for her life from a loose Laran tiger. Something about the way those bipeds run always makes him laugh. Some similarly caste Ixian would call this form of entertainment childish, lowbrow, and immature. He would tend to agree. But sometimes he just wanted cheap slapstick humour. The day to day life of the royal caste tends to get dull with all the fine arts an Ixian of his caste is meant to enjoy.
"How did it all go to shit!?! I was always attentive, and there hasn't been an uprising since those terrans were tamed for the palace. I mean we mostly neuter the problematic ones anyways, so why all the sudden aggression?", he shouted in agitation at the emptiness in front of him.
Speeding through the royal garden which in actuality is a repurposed Savannah of the island the palace is on. The Ixian was a beast of speed. Perfectly honed and trained over decades, and genetically maintained over eons, he always proudly held that he was the fasted in his brood of 16. Making a name for himself among the other broodkin for being the most genetically suited for the rank of high general (not that there was any need for generals, there hasn't been need for war in so long). Of course the Ixians always pride themselves in having no excess potential, and adapting your environment to suit your biology, but it never hurts to have perfect biology. That's the true pride of an Ixian.
That innate need to change the universe rather than changing themselves is what led to their vast interstellar empire. One that reached from constellation to constellation and then eventually to the arms of entire galaxies, terraforming worlds to the same environment they were already adapted to. Since forcing nature into one's bidding was the most sacred duty of any that shared a lick of Ix biology.
Which was why the Ix was confident in themselves. This Ixian in particular surely felt surprised, but mainly he was only moderately upset at the sudden change of situation, from being comfortable in the royal dining hall to sudden exercise.
"Everything can be changed back. Everything can be changed back." It repeated the mantra to itself. As it began to relax and turn its snarled sharp mouth into a toothy grin.
"Yes, there is nothing to worry about at all. Then let's make a game plan. Just need to make it to the space port at the harbour. Grab a ride out and find someone else to take the fall. That old royal butler is as ancient as the dirt of the broodworld. Hell, he probably was there when it vanished in the shadow of the holy empire's long past." chuckling to himself at the quite witty remark, but saddened that no one else was there to hear it.
Should be realistic enough for the others to believe. But first things first, I need to reach the harbour-master. It thought while its dense muscles powered the beastly lizard-like form on its journey, as it bound in the direction of its destination at top speed on all fours.
The blood red sun was already kissing the horizon by the time the Ixian went to nearly collapse under exhaustion of the extended sprint. He hasn't ran this far and fast than when he a young broodling that won competitions and competitions in the royal sports. I think I might have overdid it. He thought while massaging the oncoming threat of a sneaky cramp in his hind leg.
The Ixian were well known for speed. But their stamina was another thing. There bodies simply didn't have the evolved features for long distance travel. There was never truly any need in the past, as their very steady and controlled climate and sparsely diverse ecosystem on Ix never truly required much challenge.
It turned its panting head to face the way it came, gazing proudly at the great distance it made in such a short while.
But something was off by that view. Something different to what he was expecting. The view itself was mostly fine. Well, as fine as a smoking mark in the distance, presumably from the summer palace being engulfed in flame and spitting great plumes of black smoke. But no, something about this view chilled him to this spine. Craning his neck from his vantage point he could swear there was a small speck in the distance.
What on great Ix is that?
All of a sudden realisation hit like a rock on a peaceful pond. Something was following him. Something unknown and cold was making its way to his location. He was certain it wasn't any of his guards, all guards permitted to serve under the royal summer home were Ixian of course. Physically bred for their strength and speed, and placed into roles of importance like protecting the higher caste such as himself. (Whereas this day being the only exception). It did look like he was the only Ixian that actually made it out of the palace so far. Ixians are able to cover short distances in phenomenal speed, akin to a scaly 4 legged beast of the hunt.
No this was something else.
Feeling a very small panic build up inside, but veiling that cold, unwanted terror as impatience at how far he still needs to travel yet. Lord La'Ix flexed his anterior legs and sped on leaving behind a red-yellow cloud of dust in his wake.
He frowned. Feeling strange at a never before felt sensation. Like something in the back of his perfectly designed brain was screaming a silent, but terrifyingly familiar warning.
"Ix itself is an ancient world. Temperate in climate, while abundant in vegetation and small game. It is unknown how the Ixian was formed on paradise.
The old priest can drum into your heads that I'Ix made us into being by indenting his form in the sand of the first beach and filling the shape with his life. Moulding us into being.
The heretic would counter and say we evolved from a previous species akin to ourselves over the course of untold lengths of time.
The philosopher would suggest that only on paradise would the sentient universe fill in the space for the perfect beings to enjoy the fruits of existence.
Lastly, even the lowest caste Ixian would point and laugh at the rest and say 'why talk about antiquity, when we can make more paradise to fill the heavens'."
-A popular Ixian parable
Lord La'Ix bolted up all of a sudden from his resting spot. Heart suddenly beating frantically. The stars had barely enough time to shift positions when last rested his weary body, only a couple hours must have passed since dusk fell and the world plunged into night.
The silence of the Savannah made sound from afar travel better. Aside from the quiet rustling of the wind he wasn't so sure what he heard. Assuming his bored ears were playing tricks on him.
Calming down, curling up on the flat cool rock he found he started to drift to the shadowless lands where all Ixian go when they dream...
Drums, no, not drums. Some sort of mechanical tool? Not that I ever heard of a tool that just beat the ground senseless. A strange beating sound could be heard, pounding into the ground. As he stayed frozen and very awake, he could have sworn it was getting louder. Closer.
CRACK. SNAP. CRACK.
Suddenly the entire valley echoed the sounds of a few broken sticks.
La'Ix jumped up, whirling around, and came to face something approaching fast that could only be described as a cold predator, not that there were any predators on the homeworld's recorded history. But every cell in his aching body reacted the same. DANGER, DANGER, RUN, RUN.
The silver light of the planet's 3 moons barely lit the valley but what that light bounced off of was a figure in motion. Front Legs pumping up and down, nostrils flaring, eyes too close together, and pupils so large it was like staring at darkness itself.
Hold on there are only 2 legs right? Sudden familiarity hit him hard, memories of last night's entertainment stained his mind. In the name of Ix is that a Terran?!?
La'Ix didn't realise it then, but it was looking at a Terran, despite the Terrans characteristics looking different to the standard slave he was used to seeing. The pumping body of the runner was made for such long distances. Sweat acting as a cooling mechanism, making the man glisten in the harsh moonlight, the enlarged nostrils taking in all the air the body needs for this type of strenuous activity. And the enlarged pupils, made for adjusting to low light environments.
Down on the plains of the Savannah were two creatures. One a perfect evolutionary miracle, practically evolution's first try gone right, Perfectly made for its environment and was never truly exposed to varying climates and environments. And the other, having crawled through the primordial ooze, and struggled and fought its way through dangers, diseases, and competition on its own horrifying world. Where deadly heat in deserts can dry out any living thing, and such freezing poles that can turn anything that enters it in pure ice.
The man's lean and sweat-slicken form was steadily making its way towards the frozen statue of La'Ix. Just as he got within 50 paces did La'Ix sprint away scattering pebbles in its path the echoes of which bounced back from the valley's sharp walls. Undeterred, the chaser kept steadily running. Jaws grit. Eyes locked on afar.
And afar was its prey. Sprinting away.
HOW IN IX'S NAME DID THAT THING KNOW WHERE I AM? The La'Ix in a fit of sudden excitement mixed with a heavy dose of panic, began its high octane sprint from the sudden looming threat of being found. Hind Legs propelling the creature's body forward, while its front arms, which were historically also for four legged locomotion, pulled the terrain closer with each stride. Increasing its momentum until it reached max speed.
"Broodling La'Ix!" said a stern but educated voice.
"Huh? Oh! Yessir!" a young Ix jumped to attention still thinking about more enjoyable things specifically outside of the classroom walls.
"Well? Can you please answer my question or will you make your other broodkin wait until Ix falls to ash first", the tutor said expectantly, prompting several muffles giggles in the room.
"Sorry sir. What makes the Ixian race its place in eternity is the attention we put in perfection. After our home-world of Ix's climate and terrain began to change, the leaders from antiquity decreed we carry on the spirit of the home-world in maintaining a consistent biological and genetic profile that will always be suited to Ix's surface. As we change worlds to be more like Ix, we can spread the spirit of Ix to them. As such, Change is- uh, change is..."
"Change is the poison of perfection, Remaining unchanged for Ix enable us to carry its spirit to other planets in the heavens", continued the tutor. "Well you certainly paid some attention to today's lesson at the very least. But remember that final part. It's the last of the core tenants you will need to remember."
"Yessir!"
A good half night passed on the surface of the Savanna. Where a previously noble and alert Ixian who took great care in appearances and status was no longer to be seen. Instead of that proud domineering alien representative of ix was a dishevelled, dusty, ragged creature, dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted from the various sprints it forced itself to endure to stay ahead of fate's ever closing hand.
Is this the sword of Damocles that was mentioned in the ancient Terran records? Always hanging down on those who hold power and seek more? Fate's sharp blade? But why me? I was never in any real power. All I wanted out of this life was a comfortable posting with no dirt and grime from the lower worlds. Why me? Why now? Why do I-
La'Ix snapped himself out of a daze. Is he here- No, no I should be far far away from that Terran now. Maybe I can find some-
A dim glow interrupted its train of thought. Much too early to be the Sunrise on the Emperor's summer planet, and much to low to be the light from one of it's 2 moons. It was a light from a town.
"That's right!" The Ixian barely managed to rasp in between haggard breaths. Its body barely able to continue the amount of self inflicted abuse it has suddenly been put in.
A lot more hunched over than the Ixian was earlier. It made its way towards a small town it knew was in between the palace and the harbour. The emperor loved his royal rustic towns and villages. It is said that his royal emperor would sometimes tour around them marvelling at the romantic theme of a simple rustic life. Although getting a personal town full of Ixians required a lot of lower caste be forced into long and expensive work contracts as background entertainers for the king's planet, all this excessive show of wealth was partially for peackocking the emperor's reputation, and partially for his own personal enjoyment. The Emperor is almost culturally required to flaunt his royal wealth in all forms in order to keep connections with all the royal houses. An emperor that doesn't shower their supporting aides and houses with grand gifts is fated to eventually be found cold on the floor of the royal banquet due to 'suicide from accidentally ingesting poison', as was the previous emperor.
To avoid such an unfortunate passing, the Higher Royals would trade vast resources, delicacies, and even exotic slaves to court 'royal favours'. Slaves of the Terran variety especially are considered to be the most unique of gifts the empire has ever acquired.
Terrans weren't necessarily large and bulky. Fighters were assigned to the Slave Obniraks. Powerful creatures used to fill the fields on tougher worlds where mechanical services would be deemed to expensive. The growth of a Obnirak into full working adulthood is only a few cycles. Meaning mass producing a workforce is quite an easy feat.
Terrans instead would take vast cycles to mature from a childling to an average adult. Meaning growing a slave force would take vast quantities of resources, immense patience, and strict guidance from their owners as to not create faulty creatures. All of which increases the general standing on any house that manages to keep a vast amount of Terran slaves in the best quality.
Terrans weren't necessarily docile and obedient. That role was perhaps given to the oldest slave race the Ix ever controlled. The Iralisa. It was known that they were made remarkably docile due to generations upon generations of select breeding, and pruning off the 'aggressive traits' from the gene pool. However, that led to the adverse effect of physically weakening them to a point where such docility and lack of a frame to keep up with their workload led to a general lack of Ixian interest and were subsequently purified.
Terrans are notoriously independent and herd-minded in larger quantities. Similar to growing a very stubborn Terulian Rose Vine. Which only looks impressive when great care have been given. Terrans need to be given an illusion of being ever so slightly free. Which typically involves owning vast amounts of land and nature to let them roam and graze. Of course, the only ones that can accommodate grand work forces of Terrans are the larger houses with the appropriate territory for humans, as is studied in the Ixian art of Servitude.
One can only guess which species is the Emperor's favourite.
The following town should indeed have both, low caste Ixians, and possibly none of the Emperor's favourite slaves.
The Ixian approached the glowing town. As it reached closer it straightened its back, upright on its hindlegs in the royal fashion. And proclaimed. "It is I! La'Ix, royal courtier. Lend me aid imme-"
Something is off. Not a single shadow in the town, I can see lights but no movement, where is every-
After turning the corner to the center of the small town, the dustied and weary creature froze in its tracks when it saw it. A pit nearly as wide as an Ixian land cruiser and who knows how deep filled with a stench so powerful it watered his eyes. Despite the Ixian's lack of a proper sense of smell. It knew the foul fetor of death.
The crudely dug pit was nearly overflowing when he approached it. Large, smoking, smouldering pyres cast that eerie light that had drawn him in.
"H-how? Wha-What the..." he trailed off when a local species of Laran boar growled and squealed as it tore a dead Ixian limb from the mountain of corpses.
"Who could've..."
He stopped. The shock of seeing his own kind laid like broken dolls in a bleeding pit slowly faded, replaced by a numbness. The Ixian had just noticed they were of Ix. Only of Ix.
Not a single terran colour was visible in the black and spotted pit of bodies. Not a single slave body was visible.
I-Impossible...
His legs gave way, either from the strain of the entire nights run, the horror facing him, or the threat from behind. He just dropped.
Minutes passed, or hours. It was hard to tell. But the Ixian lay slumped. Body unwilling to move further. Battered flesh unwilling to be propelled by a shattered spirit.
Mind slowly spinning up again. Thoughts began whirring to life in its mind. Could the rumours actually have been true? It had read the sparse reports of odd activity from certain Ixian-controlled worlds on the outer arms of the empire. Small uprisings of unknown origin. Hardly anything of note. If it had no affect on the greater houses then it was of no real concern to Ix and its emperor.
Could this threat have made its way to the centre arm already? Impossible. But what else could have done this to us?
Something caught the Ixian's eyes. In the middle of the pit it stood. A large stake, wet with deep Ixian crimson, dripping ever so slowly. Towering over the pit like a battlefield flag was a head of an Ixian rammed onto the tip of the spike. But the particular detail that caught the Ixian's eyes was a symbol cut into the flesh of the large forehead.
Looking from the outward-in. Eight concentric rings, which proceeded to get smaller and smaller in size until it reached a dark mass at the centre of the symbol. The Ixian never forgot the symbol and the affect it had on it.
Eight concentric rings, and a centre mass. Eight rings, and a mass. Eight- Eight what? Eight planets? And a star? ...
A growing pool of cold dread rose in its guts that made it shiver despite the fair night. This dread reflected the sharp reality on its frigid surface.
This Ixian was well-bred, well-trained, and well-educated. Although anyone with a basic education would know of such a pattern.
Terra and her sisters. THEIR star system...
Thump, thump, thump, thump.
It's not possible!-
Knowing what that sound meant, the Ixian tried to whirl around, its body barely being able to heed its masters commands. Just when it was starting to move again it felt it.
Sudden sharp agony. Sudden sharp, raging agony. The Ixian looked at it's hind leg. A sharpened wooden stake was jutting out of it.
It loud out a tight lipped scream, as it grasped the pulsating wound as one does immediately after an injury. It barely had enough time to look up at its attacker when the Terran bolted forward, shortening the distance between hunter and prey from metres to mere paces. The Ixian barely had enough time to block the hand grasping the knife as the arm flew forward at the last minute with a crash.
What phenomenal force!
Using the momentum from that sprint plus the wind up of his arm. The Terran was able to impart a phenomal show of force for a creature its size. That's when La'Ix for the first time saw a human in its raw unchanged form. Great beads of sweat collecting dust on its brow, to prevent it from entering the eyes. The constant release of sweat from the countless pores on its soft fleshy skin. Constant cooling? Even the visible veins and capillaries visible from the fire light.
What a beast of endurance-
Suddenly the horizon fell before the Ixian only to reveal the inky black sky dotted with pigments from stars like a painters masterpiece. When did I look up? Then a crash and blunt force from the ground.
The Ixian had been toppled over by that ferocious exchange of force.
Barely able to get up due to the wind being knocked out of its single large lung, the searing pain in its hind leg, and the exhaustion from the chase. It was too late. The terran was already on top of it. Taking up the entire view of the sky as the terran stepped forward into its field of vision.
The sudden perspective change made a once small and frail looking slave look grander than life, grander than all the legends told to Ixian broodlings.
The punches rained down. Repeatedly. A constant bombardment of beating rained like the drops of rain before the first dew. The previous pain in its leg forgotten, to invite a new visitor in the form of blunt force trauma. So ferocious were the raw blows to its carapace that the Ixian felt the exoskeleton crack under the increasing pressure and strain.
Something cracked, another thing snapped. The amount of pain too much to comprehend. The neurons firing in its second brain just assumed it was everywhere. Its half-working eye glimpsed the fist as it came down for the nth time. Red and split knuckles, revealing pure white bone beneath—a reinforced weapon. The perfect natural offence. All the muscles moved to propel it downwards where something else cracked and split.
Is this where I die?
As if understanding its fate the Ixian's form slumped over. Its body barely holding onto the natural exoskeleton shielding that covered its chest and facial area. Fluids leaking from the cracks that went too deep, and who knows how many internal ribs are shattered.
Its body, knowing that that more movement will cause more injuries, and further stimuli would confuse it further. It simply shut down.
The last moments it had as it fell backwards on its side. Was a small running figure. Hand clutching wooden spears. But the truly petrifying sight was behind it. A vast shadow flickering from the light of the lit pyres from the hunter in front of it. A shadow cast so large, jagged, and menacing it appeared to swallow the town whole.
And into a hole did the Ixian fall. A vacuum with no sensation or thought. Just darkness.
How... did we never notice such a... monster... in their... shadow...
All Ixians were taught about 'violence' and 'conflict' at an early age. As a sort of rite of passage that any of them would go through as they survive their early broodling days. As Ix have no natural predators, they had begun to instil a serving of some necessary conflict to keep their generations fresh and somewhat physically strong. As a precaution, only rudimentary forms of civil sports, races, shows of strength and courage were ever really explored. But always in a controlled and calm settings, as there would never be any true need for actual conflict.
As there was always a need to maintain ones own environment. The need never arose for the development of fighting techniques and schools of training. That was one of the best parts of being an Ix that many thought. Having supreme control over the worlds you inhabit means setting gravity, atmospheric pressure, humidity, and temperatures to the perfect levels for comfort replaced any need for biological change. Why grow when you can keep everything the same way, how you like it.
They were a vast empire. An empire of statues.
-Excerpt from the history of extra-solarian species, Author unknown
It awoke to a burning radiating heat from in front. The large sun was already starting to set on the horizon when it awoke. Had a whole day passed? Or two?
Trying to block the setting sun from its eyes it couldn't. "What?...", barely made out in a whisper.
I'm tied up.
And indeed the Ixian was right. Tied up next to a small brook, with a scorching fire in front of it. The monster nowhere to be seen.
"No good... it's too tight", it grunted in an attempt to escape its bindings.
Going slack in defeat it avoided any additional movement. Not having the energy to spare to move. It was lucky to have always been lazy at shedding its carapace - a frequent nag from its broodmother - might just have become its salvation in this case.
Thank Ix.
So there it stayed.
Hours passed. The Sun fully set and the stars awake in this dark world barely lit up the wildlands. Only the prisoner in this cone of firelight existed out here.
A rustling up ahead caught the prisoner's attention disturbing the eerily still silence of the Savannah night. And ungodly horror of a squeal ruptured the air invoking a deep visceral terror within the bound prisoner. Something. Something close but just outside the firelight was eyeing it, glinting from beyond the light. Those dark predatory eyes stabbed the prisoner with a sudden coldness. All while the squealing suddenly halted. SNAP. SQUELCH.
Now it came, emerging into the light. A beast. Holding a knife in one bloodied hand, dripping on the dirt. And dragging by the leg, a massive adult Laran boar grotesquely smearing thick blood still warm from the cut in the neck on the dirt.
The prisoner watched, barely moving, barely breathing. Frozen with the horror in front of it as the bloodied carcass was skinned; fur sliced away with harsh, scraping sounds with the crude knife. Spurting remaining blood all over the site.
The pink naked flesh then washed in the brook, leaving a distinct smell of oxidised blood in the air, before being skewered and roasted over the roaring flames. Fat popping violently in the heat.
In this gruesome display, the beast revealed not just a fate for the boar, but a dark hint of what might come. The realisation struck deep—this could be more than just a demonstration; it was a terrifying preview of its own potential end.
It passed out again.
Only to be awoken by the haunting echoes of a wild, desperate squeal that once thrummed through the savannah's eerie silence. Dare it open its eyes?
After a great heavy effort -utilizing its every last drop of courage- one eye cracked open. And what it saw. Made it regret ever having done so.
Right across from it, the hunter was a grotesque silhouette against the flickering fire. Grasping a severed boar leg was a mouth viciously biting, ripping, tearing into the flesh with primal ferocity. Each bite was deliberate, each tear of sinew was a clear, calculated demonstration of supreme savagery. Its jaw muscles bulged with the force of a bite.
All the while, the eyes—deep, abyssal pits—fixed intently on the prisoner. Deepest black pits stared back at it. Watching. Observing. Calculating, with a dark intelligence. it was calculating. It was relishing the terror it inspired and the control it exerted. Or planning its next meal.
The sounds of ripping flesh filled the thick, blood-soaked air. Deep into the night. Deep into this never-ending nightmare.
Never once did the prisoner move. Not an iota. Frozen in abject horror.
The night passed quietly. After the feast the human had, or the desecration of life that the prisoner saw, whichever way you look at it. The human nodded off to sleep. Content in the success of his mission. But the tied up creature had no such rest. Sending silent pleas to the stars that it might be saved. But not daring to make a sound, less it awaken that sleeping horror. Or was it sleeping? Dear Ix, it might be watching me. Feigning sleep to keep an eye on its meal. Dear Ix I'm next...
All through the night, the demons plagued its mind. Until the warmth of the morning rose, and with it the sound of an Ixian cruiser.
Elation could not be an understatement for the tired, tied, beat, and bruised thing. Craning its neck to the direction of the sound about to bellow out an Ixian warning to the demon resting next it.
"BE CAREFUL! THERE'S ONE HERE-". It stopped speaking. That previous elation it felt at a saviour arriving to rescue it from the demons grasp, fizzled out like a drop of water in a drought.
That all so familiar cold remained. And the dryness of despair. As pairs of dark pupils shot back at it.
On the cruiser were tall adult Terrans. Clean cut, well fed, well dressed Terrans. Four, no Six, no eight of them. All hanging onto the side of cruiser while it made its way to their location. Compared to the demon waking up beside it, these creatures were organised. A savageness neatly packaged in a uniform with a symbol. The prisoners eyes grew wide in its sunken sockets. 8 rings, and a centre mass. They must be the cause of, well all this.
Accepting fate, its head fell in part defiance, in part to avoid the stinging eyes of these others. It felt their gaze burn through—cold, cruel, calculating. There is nothing I can do any longer.
"You're finally here. What took you so long?" The runner said to his approaching comrades, "Took all night to catch up to him."
"Hey Jan, great work", the tall militant woman shot back. With a playful punch to his arm. "Guess all that cardio really paid off, didn't I tell you it would!" She let out a playful guffaw.
"Thanks Chel", replied Jan.
"Ok chop chop people, we're on a schedule. We need to reach the port ASAP remember? Come on Jan, rest up all you like, you're still on the clock."
"Aye sir." Jan shot back in a mock salute, gaining a sneer from the commandant, then a sneaky smile.
"Don't forget your trash. And make sure its breathing still."
It creaked open its eyes, seeing pairs of boots moving towards it and standing in front. In silence. Then all of a sudden, felt pairs and pairs of hands pull and tug. and lift it up The thing let out a pathetic silent sob. While it was loaded in the back of the cruiser, face up. Staring at eyes, piercing black dots peering back. It could never understand what was being felt by those eyes and those faces.
Ixians wear their emotions on their carapace; spots and stripes would slowly appear in certain parts, representing emotions and feeling that their bodies felt in a general sense. But the most private thoughts were of course, still kept private.
But this. This was just too foreign. The eyes never stopped. Even in the swaying movement of the cruiser the pupils never broke contact. Those eyes. As if it was peering into it, envelops your entire mind. There was no way to hide, even hiding in his inner self would do no good. Those eyes. Those predator eyes can find me anywhere I try to escape to. Inside and out.
Some times passes.
"You know. I lost good friends to the royal caste. Especially to this one's brood clan or whatever they like to call it." One of them was looking right at it when they said it. It turned its eyes over to the source. A short one, with a slave scar on the neck said it. A scar that shot through his memories. A scar inflicted to property owned by, his brood. This one is dangerous..., it thought.
Jan, and the others didn't look but felt it. The cold darkness in that tone made it clear what it intended to do.
The female militant, Chel, I think her name was. Slowly reached to the side arm on her holster. Sensing the oncoming problem.
"You still understand me don't you? I've had to watch good people die. Damn good people." The scarred one one stood, grabbing the upper rail of the cruiser to steady themselves. "I hear that even if you get ill, you become the entertainment for the night. What was it now?" She paused for a brief second. "Oh I remember".
"Stil" Chel said slowly. "Cool it". Hand still on the butt of the sidearm.
Not hearing or not wanting to reply. Stil continued. "Torn apart by those raptor pets. Hands or feet cut off as souvenirs for those fucked-up parties and those fucked-up guests. Oh yea, and the 'toy play' or whatever they call it. Can't have Ken and Barbie fight back now, can we?"
Stil leaned closer to the now cowering, shaking thing, "I wonder which one was your favourite." The words cut through La'Ix like an icicle. This was the first time these demons actually spoke to it directly. And it didn't like it. It could sense the venom from the words.
"Stil..." Chel slowly got up, hand still at the ready. "I said cool it." The line had a steely warning to it. Chel wouldn't risk the mission. Even if it meant doing what must be done.
Agonizing seconds passed. The cowering, shaking thing seemed to grow whiter and whiter by the second, It's spots clearly showing what it felt. Staring up, Not willing to move but being unable to hide. It felt the absolute crushing weight of the present. Grinding it down to a paste.
Everyone stayed still. The two militants didn't move. The rest didn't seem to even have paid attention to the converstation, still looked away.
Longer passed.
Stil smiled, "Oh come on Chel, you know I wouldn't do anything to our friend here? You know I was just playing around." Stil laughed. Chel didn't react.
Stil immediately crouched, faced the shaking prisoner inches apart eye to eye, and in a whisper said "Right friend?"
She wants me to reply? Dear Ix I can't even think with those eyes in front of me What do I do?! What do I say?!
"Right. Friend?" Stil repeated slower and colder. Like the blade of a surgeon hovering over skin, ready to plunge.
The gears of its Ixian brain grinded to a screeching halt. In utter desperation to find a reply it simply gave up. Instead, it felt a warmth slowly spread. Slowly spread between its hind legs. It had released its bladder.
"BAHAHAHAHA LOOK AT IT" Stil roared in laughter. The sound of it rattling the prisoners brain with the sound. Disorienting its senses. "NOW THAT'S CLASSIC TIMING IF I'VE EVER SEEN IT!" She plopped back down face red and still laughing.
The Ixian didn't know what to do but tremble and sob silently on the cold surface of the cruiser surrounded by laughter. and the warmth of its piss. It tried to plug its ears. But the sound still came. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. Dear Ix, what are these demons... where are they taking me? To hell?...
The cruiser kept cruising. Towards the port across the island. Trailing laughter behind. Or to the sobbing wreck of a thing, demonic cackling.
The scent of familiarity wafted into the senses of the prisoner as the cruiser started to slow. The smell of the salt, the chirping of familiar aviaries. Sound of the crash of sea. The port.
Braving a sentence for the first time in for what seems eternity. It let out a question "...w..w..where ... why... are... ... we ...h... here?" It managed to say shakily, eyes downcast.
As if in response, a sharp shove greeted it from the back and a hard hit on the ground was as much of an answer it was getting.
"Move it", Jan said gruffly.
They walked. the ixian still bound but free to walk in the middle of the group of humans. Towards a destination still not known. The walk twisted, and turned, and twisted again. One thing struck out to the prisoner. It was too clean, especially for what it was expecting, it's last experience being in the previous blood-soaked town laden with bodies and carrion eaters.
The port town was completely silent, free from the regular hustle and bustle it usually had even when the emperor was not present. And superbly clean. Not a single piece of dirt to be seen. Not a single Ixian either. Where did everyone go? Did they make it out somehow when these invaders came?
In the background, the surf broke relentlessly.
Piercing eyes caught the prisoners glance, as it wandered curiously around the town. Realising its mistake La'Ix tried to look away but the burning gaze gripped his own.
As if reading its soul. The human answered the hidden question bubbling up in La'Ix. "You should've seen them your royal majesty". The one called Stil said while bending in mocking courtesy.
The surf pounded the shore even more loudly now.
"They don't swim well. Especially the young ones. They dropped like stones. Turning all white by the time they stopped moving."
Louder now. The sea roared.
Nothing came. Not a thought in La'Ix's mind. Its mind struggled to comprehend the depth of what was said by Stil, the scarred human.
The waves boomed louder now. Louder than the sun, echoing louder than the screams of all the Ixians that must have perished.
It saw the lips of the standing-devil in front of it. But all the came from its blood red lips were obscured by the sound of the pounding of the waves. The echoes of drowned kin, thudding and slapping against the shore, merged with the relentless surf in La'Ix's mind.
This is for our sins.
Wave after wave, the relentless surge continued, each one a haunting reminder of the souls lost to the sea, each crash a ghostly thud of bodies hitting the shore.
Very slowly did some exhausted neuron in the Ixian's head come to a conclusion as to how these creatures in front of it can be so relentless, so cruel, and so evil. When pushed to beyond its breaking point, did their true carnivorous instincts rear their ugly head.
Oh dear Ix. What sort of environment could breed such demons?
La'Ix didn't remember what happened next. The memories feel like a distant dream now as he sits watching the port sky now.
The aching brand on his forehead of the 8 ringed system, pulsed in pain—a departing gift from his newly made friends, stung from the salty sea air.
He barely recalls the staggered walk from the empty inter-arm transmission office and the inputting of his biometric royal seal. He barely even remembers the message that was sent under his name and signature
And even less does he remember what he heard what will happen next.
All alone now, he stares at the sky of the empty port town. As he watches more royal ships enter the atmosphere.
He gazes upward, thoughtlessly, statue-like Knowing fate will come for them all. Fate in the form of piercing black eyes and a monster so large it can fit in a shadow.
A single thought, carried its way from above the despair to the surface. Slowly. Like a bubble in a pool of tar.
What was I meant to tell the emperor again?

“Don’t assume my life has always been lollipops and rainbows, young man. Like most people, I’ve had my share of problems and difficulties. I have experienced frustrations, money troubles, issues with finding and keeping a romantic relationship, health scares, etc. I’m like everyone else in that regard. It may seem as if I don’t have a care in the world, but it hasn’t always been that way for me. The sweet ‘gumdrops’ of life came much later. My pivotal moment came when I met ‘the broker’. That changed everything. After my appointment with him, all my troubles melted away. I negotiated an amazing deal on that fateful day.”
“The ‘broker’?”; his captive audience-of-one, stammered.
The young man was perplexed and intrigued by the odd segue. It held the promise of offering an interesting story and fulfillment of the developing narrative. The curious lad prodded the conversation along by dutifully asking for an explanation of the curious term. Without further interruption or delay, the senior gentleman picked back up in his unveiling story of contentment.
Their unspoken understanding was confirmed. With his appropriate response, the question facilitated the means for the story to move forward. It was the equivalent of two people playing ‘catch’. The back and forth ‘give-and-take’ had been handled judiciously, and with nuance.
“Many, many years ago I had a similar conversation with an older gentleman who was about the same age that I am, now. He didn’t seem to carry the weight of hardship on his shoulders and I was fascinated by his enviable sense of calm. I was about your age; and I suspect, had similar troubles to those you have. After appealing to him for his secret, he told me about ‘the broker’. it’s about time I passed that torch to you. It’s selfish of me to keep such knowledge to myself.”
The young man smiled. He sensed an entertaining reveal around the corner.
“There’s an enchanted, magical being of unknown origin; collectively known as ‘the broker’. At least that’s what I was told, years ago.”
The old man had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoon-fed the strange details to his curious protege.
“The broker’ collects personal dreams, the same way others might desire to own a classic car, or rare coins. He is drawn to interesting and unique experiences. I can’t begin to explain to you why he collects such odd things. Regardless, you’ll only have one opportunity to meet him. If he is intrigued by your entry, he will offer you a deal for the rights to ‘own’ it. Heed my advice. Be fully prepared when that happens and don’t squander away your only chance. Wait to summon him when you have an exceptional item to offer, and know exactly what you want in return for it.”
The young man could hardly believe his ears. It seemed like an intricate setup to trick a gullible rube, but the older gentleman appeared to be dead serious about the surreal details he’d divulged so far. Despite suspecting it was a masterful joke at his expense, he dared to ask follow-up questions.
“How do I summon this ‘broker of interesting dreams’, when the right time arises? I don’t remember my dreams very often, nor are many of them exceptional in any measurable way. Of the few I do remember, most of those are sinister nightmares. If I do experience something that is vivid, positive, and highly interesting, I want to be ready to share it with the dream broker.”
“That’s both wise and very prudent, young man. I feel like you grasp the gravity of my advice, but you’ve taken the parameters too literally. It doesn’t have to be an actual dreamscape you experienced while asleep. It can also be about your hopes and aspirations for the future, you see? The only thing worse than not having a valuable item to barter with in the deal; is having the perfect one to present, but not having an audience with him. That’s a missed opportunity of a lifetime, for certain.”
The young man nodded in agreement. He was highly pleased and proud his personal advisor recognized his understanding of the seriousness of the matter. He waited as patiently as he could for the answer.
“When your time arives, you’ll know. It will soon become crystal clear. There will be no doubt you’ve secured the ultimate deal. Don’t waste time by asking for silly, impractical things like ‘eternal life’ or ‘vast riches beyond compare’. A dream broker isn’t the almighty, of a magical genie. His powers to grant you wishes aren’t limitless, and his pocketbook isn’t bottomless. If he is intrigued by the dream you share, he’ll initially offer you a pittance for it. He’s a shrewd businessman who has negotiated countless deals. Resist the urge to accept any ‘lowball’ offers. Be ready with reasonable expectations, and stand firm on your demands. Good luck young man. May you broker an amazing deal which brings you a lifetime of well-being and happiness.”
The old man winked and turned to walk away.
“But wait Sir! You didn’t tell me how to contact the broker of dreams, when I’m ready to strike my deal.”
He turned back around to face the curious youth. “Oh, you are ready! I already know what you desire, young man. I can see it in your humble eyes. I’ve heard the same requests a million times from others but that doesn’t detract from its validity or precious value. All reasonable dreams for the future are basically the same, and a delight for me to fulfill. You see, when I had my own special meeting, I asked to become a broker of dreams, myself. Happiness, and good health is a wise choice, my boy. I’ve already granted them for you.”

Hello fellow humans,
For my entire life I was raised a Catholic and my parents have only become more and more religious. I love them and we have a great relationship but sometimes they start expressing the typical homophobic views such as that gays have infiltratated the church and that is the reason for the church abuses, most gay people were abused at some point in their lives, you know the usual. I am closeted. So this has been upsetting me. For most of my life I had become numb to it and when I discovered Stoicism I tried to understand them and I’m sure If I was in their position perhaps I would have been the same way. But for some reason I have started becoming more and more upset, like I’m about to explode one day, perhaps I’m just getting tired of hearing that rhetoric or because I’m realizing that one day I will have to come out to them and I don’t know how they will take it.
My question is what can I do?

I'm just gonna rant how incompetent the cybercrime unit in our area is. Context is yung fb account ng family member ko is na hack and then yung hacker nag chat sa iba-ibang tao asking for money ranging from 3k-6k and unfortunately a relative of mine fell victim to this kampon ng impyerno.
As advised by some relatives na mag punta sa PNP to their cyber crime unit to report the crime so we went there. The moment na we explained what happened ang sabi agad is there's almost no chance na they can do anything about the money that was sent and ang gawin nalang talaga is mag send ng report or email from the app that was used to transfer the money.
So we mentioned na is there anything we can do nalang on how to locate or identify the hacker since we identified the hacker's ip address from the fb and he said na there's also no chance to track it cause as he said even if alam nila baka lang daw hindi exact yung since posible ang ip address will only re-direct to the internet provider's location etc. and that if ever man is wala daw ganyan sa Ph yung mag track ng ip address and I was like 'wtf?'. As far as I know even if that is the case there is still a chance to locate using the ip address, even countries outside ph have successfully done so multiple times and this officer didn't even take note man lang yung ip or any information that could possibly identify the hacker.
Also, may number na gi provide yung hacker from gcash and also binago niya din number sa fb so we mentioned those to the officer if possible na those two numbers could be identified din. In my mind I already knew na there's a chance that these numbers aren't even theirs and were possibly stolen or bought but still, SIMS ARE REGISTERED HERE IN THE PH!!! So maybe they can identify the hacker in that way, but this guy said the things that were on my mind and said that wala rin talaga silang magawa and the only thing they can help is pano iretrieve yung account which for me is basic knowledge and we already did so because it's easy nowadays to retrieve accounts with just the help of google!
So out of curiosity I asked anong course ni officer because I thought if you were to get into the cyber crime unit is that you must be an IT/CompSci or any computer related course to get in so I expected na yan yung sasabihin niya but he said he's a criminology graduate and that he also previously mentioned that the cyber crime unit division in our area was just established back in 2019. Like useless talaga...
Also the officer was so icky kasi nag mention siya na there were cases na hackers also blackmail you if ever they found a scandal on your phone and this one time there was this 15 year old girl who fell victim to this and compared her to a c0rn⭐ like wtf? He even assured us na it was normal for them to watch those things so they aren't bothered in the slightest about those kind of videos pero kahit ano pang explain niya wala akong tiwala the way palang na how he described the girl.
In the end they couldn't do anything and told my relative who was the victim that sent out the money to the hacker to just report it to the different station within the barangay and dun nalang magpa blotter... Can't even imagine old people who are not knowledgeable about technology who fell victims to such hacks and scams na sabihan na walang magagawa ang estasyon sa kanila.
So f these security measures na inemplement ng gobyerno eh wala namang silbi sa huli!!

Hi,
My boyfriend and I have been going out for about a year and a half. We live together as well.
Our relationship has not always been easy. My boyfriend is a homebody who likes to play video games. I don’t like “going out” more than shopping at the mall, but I do like traveling. My boyfriend worries that he’s not good enough because he isn’t interested in those things. Understandable, but I reassure him Ive been doing those things without him for years and it doesn’t bother me. He will put effort into sometimes going out, or taking a small trip with me, which works for me!
We had a discussion and he thinks that I am not happy in the relationship. I have been a bit out of it recently with starting a new full time job, working a part time job, caring for newborn puppies, and just generally being stressed over this situation. Ive felt… different about him. Not that I don’t love him, but actually reevaluating the relationship and if my needs are really being met. Overall, I believe I am happy and content with our relationship minus a couple of new things that have recently happened.
He said he wants to take time to think about what we should do. Totally understand, you’re right. It’s been a few days though, since the initial conversation, and I’ve had time to think about what I want to do and I expressed this to him (regarding the new things that have come up). He didn’t really have a response. I asked if he still needed time to think.
He said yes and that he thinks we should take our time to think and that there’s no rush. I disagree. I don’t want to be stuck in this weird limbo of “are you going to break up with me or not” and act like everything’s ok for who knows how long. It took him a year of dating for him to decide if he wanted to be my boyfriend because he didn’t want to rush into things.
I want to respect his need for time but I am going to go crazy. If he needs to think about it that much, then his answer should already be no. He wants to hug me and kiss me and have sex and hang out like nothings happening, but I’m not going to do that for him to turn around and say, “Yeah, I don’t want this, let’s break up” and I feel like a jerk. Am I rushing things? Am I too much? I’m just… upset.
How do I properly respond to this situation? How long do I give him to think before being like “It’s time to make a decision”?

When you wanted me to go on one last camping trip to try to change my mind, I didn’t go. Sometimes I feel torn about not going. Part of me was afraid at the time I’d fall back on my decision to leave. Part of me now just wishes I went. But when I think about the last camping trip we had, I think it’s for the best.
.......
I left work early that Friday so we could take off camping with your friends that weekend. We had to stop by and get some supplies at Walmart on the way. We were walking through walmart and I was having so much fun just being present and enjoying the moment because we were about to have a great weekend trip camping and I was so excited. In my bubbly excitement, I started lightheartedly making jokes and pointing at random objects, saying how this hatchet would make a great addition to our home, etc. You were distracted, with your mind elsewhere, thinking about what we actually needed. You half ignored me/half acknowledged me, in short responses “Oh that’s nice” “Yea that’s cool. Can we get back on track” And when I asked if we could get a veggie burger you told me no harshly and scolded me because you were trying to shop on a budget. The instant dismissal and tone in which you snapped hurt. In my defiance, I said “ Fine I’ll just get it myself so you don’t have to pay for it,” and You said “Fine whatever.” as you turned to keep walking with the cart. Several minutes later, we were in another aisle. I don’t remember what it was that I had pointed at again or asked if we could get. I just remember, you finally lost it with me. You lashed out at me, clearly fed up and pissed, raising your voice to berate me. “Can you SHUT UP and stop pointing at every little fucking thing in the store? Are you trying to annoy me?! I’m in a fucking rush here and I am trying to stay on track so we can get out to the camping site. Just. fucking. Stop.” you couldn’t deal with me. Me, who was just being myself. But to you, it felt like everything I was doing, everything I was saying was on purpose just to annoy you, just to get in your way.
The way you scolded me in public and told me to stop talking entirely just put an instant damper on my cheery mood. In that moment, for me, I was stunned. And I think that’s part of what hurt so much. Just the fact that you could lash out at me in that way, out of the blue. The fact that me being myself, just speaking my mind could make you so angry. The fact that you could, in an instant, be so cruel and uncaring, and speak to me with that tone. That tone that said you hated me, couldn’t stand me, like I was just a buzzing fly you could smack down at any given moment. Wondering why you even invited me if I annoy you so much. Wondering why you’re even with me if me just being myself makes you so angry. Wondering if I should have just been silent the whole time, so as not to trigger you because I didn’t know how to speak without enraging you.. It was just so clear to me in that moment, how little you respected me. And that hurt. Because the whole time, I just wanted your attention, I was trying to connect with you in my own way, trying to have fun and enjoy the moment because I loved you. But you didn’t even want to see me. And just me making attempts at light hearted banter was enough to send you into rage. Because that’s how little you wanted to do with me, that’s how little I meant to you. And I wasn’t even thinking these thoughts, it was an understanding that came to me in a feeling of hurt in a split second. It was understood through the tone of your voice, that threatening contemptuous tone. It was understood through the look in your eyes, warning me.
Immediately, I got quiet standing there with a feeling of whiplash, stunned by how suddenly you snapped and in an instant, I started crying. Tears welled up in my eyes of their own volition before I could even fully process. They say tears are often an unconscious defense mechanism, to let our caregivers know that this person needs to be cared for because they are hurt. But for some reason, whenever I cried, it always had the opposite impact on you.
When you noticed the tears forming, you looked at me with such intense disbelief and rage. With one look, a look I was well familiar with, you sent me into a terrified panic because I knew with that look that I was in trouble for daring to cry, that I had fucked up by showing my hurt, and that you were angrier for it. You rolled your eyes in such exasperation, like you really couldn’t deal with my audacity to dare tear up, and you exclaimed “ Oh my GAWWWD” while simultaneously turning away from me. I quickly tried to apologize and wipe my eyes “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to” You had already just walked off. I stood there a moment, trying to compose myself, before following after you. I looked around, expecting you to be close by but you had walked way across the store and were standing in the checkout line. You were silent when I came up, you didn’t even acknowledge me, and I looked up at you, watching you quietly seethe. Everything about your demeanor said that I had fucked up. Without looking at me, you leaned in close and said in a hushed warning voice “You better stop fucking crying right now,” like I was a child throwing a tantrum in the store. I responded emotionally, “I’m sorry” once more, as I wiped my eyes. I kept my head down, and made myself quiet and small, embarrassed that people could see. Red eyed, barely holding back tears, willing myself not to cry, we checked out one by one. Numb, I started silently scanning the veggie burgers you had tried to stop me from buying earlier, along with half of everything else. An older female Walmart employee walked by, and I ducked my head down to avoid eye contact, embarrassed she might be able to tell. I paid, and you silently checked out as well.
Later in the car, You went off on me, saying I shouldn't ever cry in public because someone might think you hit me and call the cops. You were more concerned with the way I made you look in public (which is why you walked away from me), then the fact that I was hurt, crying, and clearly upset. There was no apology, no admittance of being in the wrong. And I was just thinking that if you had shown any kind of empathy and acted like you gave a shit, asked me what's wrong or if i'm okay, put a hand on my shoulder, then no one would think you beat me. I said as much, and you said “Okay.” There was no “I’m sorry.” no “I was wrong.” Just okay, and silence.
As soon as we arrived at the site, and we unloaded our stuff, I went to grab a drink from the cooler, one that had been in the freezer at our house frozen solid, which had been sitting in the car for last couple hours In a bag of ice in The cooler, and I asked you as I grabbed it “Do you think it's thawed now?” thinking out loud.
And you just looked at me all incredulously as if you were amazed that I could say something so patently ridiculous and said “Thats the dumbest fucking question, why would you even ask that or think that it would still be frozen? Of course it's thawed. Are you an idiot?” You shook your head like you were disappointed I’d be so stupid. like it was so obvious and I was just this huge idiot for even having that passing thought let alone daring to share. You said it loud enough that I worried some of the other couples around us heard and I just remember feeling so hurt, so small, and stupid, on top of being embarrassed and ashamed. I felt so small, so disrespected, so dismissed, so ridiculed, and it hurt because it was coming from the one person I cared about. Instantly, I just got quiet, and sad. The way you could belittle me so easily and at a whim at any given moment, no matter what I said. Wondering why I even bother to speak with you at all. To ever ask you anything. To ever even speak out loud. I did my best to shove down my hurt feelings, to not let it show, and to carry on socializing with your friends. Because you had trained me well not to show that in front of other people, and I figured it wouldn’t go well having a meltdown in front of your friends.
And I remember during the evening by the campfire, I stayed up and listened to you and Joey speak. I was in the background, not saying anything, Just listening. And I remember having a lot of thoughts about the topics you were speaking about. But I didn’t say a word. The whole time. Because I just figured that was what you wanted from me. To be quiet. To not say anything stupid. To not piss you off. Because it was so clear to me how stupid and uninteresting my thoughts were to you. And I knew it was not safe to have a dissenting opinion during banter with you. It wasn’t like you ever even made an effort to include me in the conversation, to ask me what I thought anyway. And I figured it wasn’t even worth the risk to say the wrong thing. After Joey eventually went to bed, you tried to talk to me. And I was just kind of quiet, defeated, tired, unresponsive. You asked me “Why don’t you say anything.” I told you I was just tired. But the truth was I was upset, I was doing my best to bury my feelings, to not talk about it, because I knew you didn’t like it when I showed that I was upset. It’s hard to want to have a conversation with someone who will randomly punish you for saying the wrong thing. And I was terrified of doing that again. Like the way you punished me was infrequent, but frequent enough, where I never knew if I was going to trigger a bad response again.And I had no idea how to not say something you would find stupid, because everytime I triggered you, I was just being myself. So then I was left feeling like I couldn’t speak my mind or say anything at all because I could step on a land mine at any given moment.
Later that night as I drifted to sleep, I started wondering if you got that new air mattress and tent from your camping trip with Josie. The one you lied to me about. And I wondered if she slept on this mattress with you back then, in the same tent.
Throughout the weekend, this dynamic continued and colored the rest of the trip, which for that reason ended up being not as great as I had thought it would be. Any fun and casual conversation I was having would be immediately ruined by you calling me an idiot who didn't know what I was talking about. It really hurt every time and it was like you didn't even realize you were doing it. That cruelty, that belittling, that contempt, it just came so naturally to you.
And then there was the whole incident with the cave conversation. When I finally decided to join in the conversation between you and Joey’s kid nephew talking about the cave system. And I asked apparently a stupid question. And the way that you belittled me so callously and cruelly right infront of that kid. That shit hurt. And he was just watching us, looking back and forth. And I remember turning away and discontinuing engaging in the conversation because I couldn’t get into it with you then. I just sat there, in the lawn chair, willing myself not to cry, while I thought about how depressed and lonely I was. I started talking to Joey’s sweet little niece who came up and started showing me pictures, and I just nodded and smiled, talking to her while half out of it, just trying to hold back my tears. And honestly, I had a better conversation with her than I had with you the entire trip. They say kids can be cruel because they are socially inept, but those kids were so much nicer than you..
Later you were so convinced you were in the right you said “Even the kid was looking at you like you were stupid because you clearly didn’t know what you were talking about because you weren’t in the cave” And Im just thinking this has nothing to do with me not understanding caves and everything to do with your cruelty and the way you constantly put me down like its second fucking nature. But you couldn’t understand that. You were so convinced you were right, and I was wrong.
And towards the end I stopped engaging in conversation all together if you were present because I didn't want to be punished for saying the wrong thing. And I just remember thinking how sad it was that your friends spoke to me with more respect than my own boyfriend and I started wondering why I ever even agreed to go on this trip in the first place.
And you wonder why i didn’t want to go camping with you again after the last time.