Explore, I am the Weaver

Just a tally of my marriage so far. You don't have to read it, it is long. I'm just adding it to my socials since the entire ordeal changed me drastically.

I can't be the person I was with him anymore, but I can be kind and thoughtful, like he was.

I know no one knows how to help. If you feel like telling me you care or however you'd frame it is just lame platitudes, it's not. I know I've said some snarky things about saying cliche shit to me... So maybe I've scared some of you. But I also know the difference between a friend struggling to find the right thing to say and insincerity.

There's a reason my friend list on most of my socials is so small. I'm not conceited, just careful who I allow to know me. I'm blunt and corrosive and I don't hide when I'm in pain. Consequently, I pick fights often because I'm looking for answers, and probably come off like the community dumbass more often than not. But if you saw all of that and thought, "hell yeah." You're welcome here.

A different story. I think I'll use tenta-Catt's concept art for this. Lotta "Catt-tulu" jokes in there.

When Flickie looks like this, he's always been known as the Ahzi Hare. A draconian take on the jackalope.

AFAIK about the plot of this story is they're both dead. Catt wound up in the "Netherworld" and Flickie is... surprisingly missing. Many citizens of the Netherworld have little information on his whereabouts. He died years before she did as she had unfinished work while she was still alive. Memories of her life are dreamy, but all she knows for certain is she's gotta find Flickie and he's her twin flame.

Interestingly... for the past few weeks, I began seeing the direction I wanna take Catt in, in her post-Flickie world. Before he died, my plans for her was that she'd be such a badass "Pneuma" (Summoner) that her neglecting her affinity for "Void" (time) magic wouldn't really crop up. She comes to terms with her past trauma, so she doesn't crave the power to undo her life.

Even on our worst nights, I knew he loved me. Those nights stemmed from mental illness. We always forgave each other because it didn't matter.

I didn't have to be pretty or thin. He loved me as I am. He thought I was beautiful no matter how messy and sloppy I was feeling. I never did dress up or wear makeup. He was messy and sloppy too. And we felt so beautiful together. And we were beautiful together.

All his free time was spent with me. All we did was try to make each other laugh.

Moody af

Easily frightened

Cries a lot

Possessive

Needy

Obsessive

Can't wait to be near you

Loves you a lot but it comes out in weird ways

Loves to laugh

Temper tantrums

Funny

Understands you better than you do

Needs music

Candy

Pot

Beer

Kind to animals

Hates to admit she likes something you showed her

Guilt

Shame

Only focused on you

Wants to be near you at all times

Cares about your feelings

A bit sensitive

Great with animals

Encourages your hobbies

Can't wait to spend time with you

Loves to play games with you

Drinks heavily

Depressed, but you make him happy

Always tells you he loves you

Moody

Grumpy

Loves pot

Never pressures for sex

Never gives up on you

Loves you at your worst

Kind to everyone

Incredibly silly

Always makes you laugh, especially when you're sad

Everything I was interested in, he wanted part of it. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with me. Whatever that meant in the moment.

He took care of my heart, my mind and my soul. Every tear I shed mattered to him. His only goal in life was to make me smile. He just wanted to be by me.

We'd joke about how codependent we were on each other. How we never ran out of shit to talk about.

I loved how kind to the cats he was. I mean, he picked them out... But he was just as good to them as I am. He always matched my energy.

He was goofy and generous. Silly and sweet. And despite his own issues, he took care of me.

It is my hope that after I transcend life, I find my place with Flickie. Maybe in this form I've drawn here.

They represent our love. One cannot exist without the other. They need each other to be happy, to thrive. And that's how I feel about Flickie. And that's when I realized I have to go.

I will try for my cat. I will. Flickie would want me to. But I'm uncomfortable all the time. I can't grieve the way I want to. I'm cramped. And I've been robbed of Flickie. Life doesn't want me here. I don't know who I pissed off in my past life, but they're definitely upset with me.

I don't want to. I want my old life. I want it so bad. I want it more every day. I can't change that.

Bass will live the rest of his life with me. He already lost his daddy. But by the time he goes, so will I. I think Cookie and Shadow will be ok with my mom. I think the rest of the humans who care about me will understand. Life is not worth living without Flickie. And I'm tired of clinging to small patches of lessened pain as evidence that it might be ok for me in the end.

If I disappear one day, you all have been warned. I don't really think I'll have the headspace for a formal goodbye once I have enough balls to do myself in.