ineffable husband's child

new evidence just dropped, add it to the list...

As he wrote, he spoke aloud:

And they really thought they ate with this ending like it’s so crazy…

We’re asking, where does the soul live?

For those who think that who we are is shaped by a life time of experiences. That we grow and change with each each heartbreak and trauma. We see the ending as something horrible. We’re witnessing the death of our beloved characters and we are grieving for them.

For those who believe in a soul, who believe that Asa and Anthony are Aziraphale and Crowley because of the something intrinsic that lives inside them, what they’re seeing is a rebirth and a second chance. In that sense the ending is beautiful. They both get exactly what they’ve always wanted. To live as humans without the pressure of heaven and hell. In that sense, the ending is a joyous one.

Sadly these beliefs are deeply held, often the roots begin as far back as our childhoods. No amount of screaming at each other about media analysis is going to change anyone’s mind. Please just accept that there are multiple ways that one can view the ending and that those who are upset are experiencing grief. This is an extremely normal and valid reaction to end of something so meaningful and should be treated with care.

That said, your grief is not an excuse to lash out and those who don’t deserve it.

I fell asleep in my friends' arms. It was eleven at night, we were tired, curled up in a small pile on my tiny bed. I had my head buried in my roommate's side, and one of my closest friend's hand on my shoulder, steadying me. It was quiet and nothingness and peace and their heartbeats in my ears, my hands in their hair.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

We pack four people to that little bed, you know. Laps used as footrests, collarbones as pillows, little lights like moonlight in rustic yellow bathed on their faces. The TV plays an anime. The words are repeated by my dear friend on my shoulder, curled close. My legs are asleep; my roommate may be, too.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

The cat curls on top of our criss cross mess of legs and arms and heads on chests to absorb the warmth of us all. She purrs in contented peace. When my roommate and I are left alone in the quiet, she cries, and watches the door for our friends' return.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I will never kiss them but the top of their heads. I will never touch but the warmth of their arms. I will never take more than what's freely given, and in return I put my glasses on the bedside table fashioned from a guitar amp, and when I lean into their sides, I pick up my vulnerability and place it in their capable, tender hands.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

I sing for them. I cry for them. I work and I run and I withstand the worst of the world for them, because some days I get to cradle their forehead on my shoulder and some days I get to see their shining eyes.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Maybe to you. But look beyond explanation. I love them. With my heart in my unsteady hands, with my nose pressed to the side of their head, with the buzzing in my feet and the warmth all around Iike the sunset pushing into the window.

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

Is it enough to say I love them? With no strings attached? With reckless abandon and utter devotion and freedom and kindness and fear?

"there is no platonic explanation for this--"

So'lek: I've seen you get into a fist fight with a dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist, but the flu is what is going to do you in?

Deadpan humor at its finest. Raise your hand if you think highly competent Commander Cody would win this championship.