an insignificant infj mind

                                              -Trigger Warning-

It was too late. Too late for everything. Your body had absorbed the pills like it was the oxygen for its lungs. There was no telling how many you took. A hand full? Maybe two. The last thing you remembered was the beating of your brothers’ fist against the bathroom door and their pleas to stop…to unlock the door. You didn’t listen.

Now, as your limp and chilling body stays put in the white hospital bed, a flat line indicating the failing of your heart fills the room. Three men, which you loved, stood around your bed as they watched the person they loved get ripped from their arms. Depression was one monster that they couldn’t kill no matter how hard they tried. It wasn’t in a physical form…You couldn’t shoot it…stab it…decapitate it…burn it. It was there to stay like a virus. It had to run its course.

The death left Dean speechless as he began to step out of the room in utter shock. He was on the verge of breaking down. Snapping. He wanted nothing more just to scream and bring the room down with him, but he couldn’t for you had taken his voice with you as you embraced death with open arms. If only…if only he knew. If only he had kicked that door down sooner…maybe then you’d be alive. Maybe, if he had paid more attention you would be asleep in your own bed instead of dead in this one. Maybe…if he was a better brother you wouldn’t have taken those pills. It was his fault; this he believed. And, it was this thought that would drive him to the brink of snapping every damn night as he tried to drown the pain that you passed on with a bottle of alcohol and a cheap stripper from the bar across the block….

Sam, on the other hand, felt the result of your passing immediately. Crumpled over your sickly gray body, he sobbed with your hand in his. If only his tears could bring you back, he would have cried a river. This wasn’t his first death, and surely wouldn’t be the last, but this one would be the one to leave him in tears every night. This would be the one he couldn’t move on from. This would be the one he prayed about every night just to talk to you from the heavens above. The loss of you would be the one thing that brought him to his knees with just one word…one memory…one certain smell…one small reminder.

And Cas…well, Castiel was lost…confused, even, to why someone so beautiful and loved would do such a thing. Suicide? Why? What was going on in your mind so bad that drove you to this point? That was the question in the angel’s head. Why? It must have been a place so dark you couldn’t see the light that everyone else took for granted. Why did you mask such a troubled soul? Why didn’t you reach out for help? Why did you have to end it on such a terrible note? Why didn’t you tell him? Your beautiful eyes that he loved to get lost in would never open again. And that smile…the smile that could brighten up a room, would never shine again. Now, he sits in tears every night trying to wrap his head around what went wrong even though he knows that only God has the answer.

INFJs are strange in the way that they feel constantly subdued. It’s like if someone took an ENFJ and then turned the volume down to 2. They are warm and kind, but have also been described as being almost “zen-like”. Their very presence is tranquil– not only is their voice quiet, but everything about them. They are extremely chill.

A small guide to INFJ body language:

Upraised eyebrows with a smile, constant eye contact and frequent nodding of the head, small amounts of laughter = “I want you to feel comfortable around me, in order to establish a good rapport with you as well as prevent any conflict between us in the future”

Upraised eyebrows with a small smile, wandering eye contact = “I am not particularly interested in what you are talking about, but I am a slave to social norms and I also still really want you to like me, and feel comfortable around me”

Slightly raised eyebrows with no smile, occasional “mm-hmm” = “I’m either very distracted, or I dislike you and really wish you would stop talking. The only reason I’m still indulging you is because I can’t directly hurt someone’s feelings and tell them to fuck off”

Laughter and/or a smile showing teeth = “I really like you, that I’m actually giving genuine smiles and laughter. For once I am smiling and laughing for myself, and not for the comfort of other people”

me: no, I’m just tired.