#maryr

(Please read before you start - (headcanons) here.)

It was a beautiful, peaceful summer night. The tall tree’s leaves danced in the wind as they cascaded over Tim’s head as he wrote anonymous words on a piece of paper at the old, scarred wooden table. A couple days ago he’d proposed a camping trip for the four of them to go on, but he had no idea how to start planning.

He was having a rough night, his intrusive thoughts kept him awake, it was almost as if as soon as he could fall asleep, his thoughts would shove an ice cube down his shirt. He really wasn’t one to spend his time outside at night, he’d usually be out in the morning, and letting silent sonder whisper to him as random people pass by.

Tonight, though, as all nights, he couldn’t get to sleep. The bags under his eyes were getting worst over the days he’d stay up at night and think. He’d just think. Think about everything, his friends, his family, his cat, everything.

He found a way to counter this, though. He’d write down his thoughts on a piece of paper. Sitting at the wooden table at about midnight on a warm summer night, the crickets chirping, fireflies fluttering in the night sky, and the pale moon light being the only source of light in the small area he’d call home.

He wrote down his ideas for the camping trip, his wonders and worries about the next few years, how his friends were doing and if they were alright, his cat, his bird... He really did have a racey thoughts. He knew this. That’s why he wrote them down.

Tim decided to settle down his pencil for a bit, and take a breather. He listened to what his therapist once said, and listened to his surroundings. He heard the sounds of small animals scurrying through the underthrush, and the humming of crickets and the small motor of Jay’s air conditioner. He heard Jay and his loud snores from his semi-cracked open window, and heard the distant sound of a movie playing through the window of Alex’s house across the street.

He turned his gaze towards Brian’s house, and as he guessed, the lights were off. He must be at Alex’s, he always goes there at this time.

Tim really wished he had a bond as strong as Alex and Brian’s with Jay. He would always avoid any contact with anyone, and avoid going outside unless absolutely nescessary.

Tim knew it wasn’t his fault, Jay had his things to do... Like work and stuff. Tim works, too. He works at a local car repairment business. He gets paid a bunch since it’s the only one in town, and because he’s friends with the manager.

Tim sank back into his thoughts, and wondered about miscellaneous things. He sunk back further into the comfortable wooden chair, thanking something, anything, for blessing him with a stable job, a great house, and amazing friends.

He sighed, knowing he had to finish preparing for the trip.

He closed his eyes once more, taking in the cool breeze near his neck and arms. He smiled.

Happy Feast of St. Ursula!

She's the patroness of both the Company of St. Ursula and the Sisters of St. Ursula.

When life hands you hailstones, make daiquiris.  Words to live by.