#kippybuddy

And even after all is resolved and we come back together there’s still a rift between me and her because she rightfully needs to learn to be an independent person, meaning she should hang out with the other people in our group and freely explore herself with them

But the others in our group don’t like me, they never liked me and even though I’m supposed to be on the road to betterment it’s just hard and they can’t help but judge me for not being at their level yet. They make fun of the stubbornness and solemnity that still outlines the core of my identity, so I feel hopeless. I feel like I can only get worse. I feel alone.

But then someone decides to reach out. Not my best friend, but someone new. Or, rather, someone I hadn’t given much mind until now. This loving, kind of wise, and open-minded religious boy, who, while not being Mormon, has a lot of Mormon themes or vibes in what he does and practices. I hadn’t paid attention to him before, in the sense that he was nothing but a tool to my betterment—making us look better. He was always a little enigmatic to me, but, he seems to want something now. Friendship, he wants to support me on my mission to better myself, because he knows that can be hard, and he sees the good in me just waiting to work its way to the surface, and he knows I’ll need support to get there. So, he’s there for me. He tries to help me, tries to defend me now and again, tries to get the others to see my side of things.

But it doesn’t end well, it was never meant to. I don’t grow, or change, inevitably, I fall back into my old ways. He’s nothing but a pair of ears, and a kind, gentle expression. He’s not a person to me, maybe he never was. Because the first time I looked in his eyes, which shimmered with hope for me I didn’t accept his offer because I believed him. I accepted his offer because, for a moment I thought I saw her. My best friend.

I love Fantasy High, I love Chiikawa, that’s what I’m doing here… /ref

+ individual pics because Kipperlilly’s tail was too damn big

That does not make my life rely on yours, nor yours on mine, as others still carry our memory. Rather what dies with us is what we may carry from it; Our relationship is uniquely independent in slaughter, as is our memory of one another.