#summerwritingchallenge

Hiiii!

I’m new on the One Piece fanfic scene but I had a ton of fun writing this first little story for the One Piece of Summer Writing Challenge! (also please forgive me if there’s multiple submissions i’m returning to tumblr after like an 8 year hiatus lol) (also also i’m sorry i’m verbose i hope this isn’t too long)

Warnings: some language

Word Count: 3628

Word Prompt: Heat

You can hardly believe that it’d been two whole years since the crew had been together. Two years. Holy shit. You feel a lump in your throat as you approach Shakky’s place. You have no idea who, if anyone, had already arrived. Your heart races excitedly at the thought and a small smile creeps over your features. You make yourself sit on a nearby bench and breathe before you hike the last flight of stairs to the bar. It’s a hot day, impossibly hot and you sit and take a sip of water from your hip flask. The cool liquid pours down your throat and you sigh happily as you wonder what the very near future would hold.

Would it be Franky? You imagine the blue-haired madman, and laugh. Maybe he’d found another way to fuel his cyborg frame other than cola. You laugh again.

Who am I kidding? You think to yourself. The reason he runs on cola is because he wants to run on cola.

Or maybe it would be Usopp or Chopper? The last time you saw Chopper, it had been so frightening. He was vast and out of control from using those rumble balls. A shudder runs up your spine at the thought, but you push the thought away shaking your head. Your h/c hair ruffles at the motion, and you push a strand out of your face as you stare at the ground beneath your boots. Usopp, you are sure, will be one of the early ones, not wanting to be one-upped. You roll your eyes, your mind’s ear imagining him shouting, “Well, of course I’m here first! I’m the great captain Usopp!”

You already know what Brook--you mean “Soul King” had been up to. You laugh. You had to admit that his stuff was pretty catchy, and you wonder if he’d even want to come back to the pirate life after all that fame and fortune. It had been nice over the last two years to follow him in the papers whenever you could; a small link to your old life had been comforting and familiar.

Nami and Robin were almost certainly already here--Nami, probably off conning some shop owner into giving their store away half-price, and Robin wandering around looking at architecture, reading a book, or saying weirdly cryptic lines to passersby. You sigh fondly, reminiscing about the times the three ladies of the Strawhats spent together. Not having had many female friends to speak of before the Strawhats, it had been nice to have some badass women to bond with over the months before your separation. In your two years alone, you’d missed the companionship.

Maybe Sanji is at Shakky’s already, cooking up some delicious concoction for you to devour. Your stomach grumbles on cue, and your mouth waters thinking about it. If Luffy was already here, then any food would be gone twice over. Of all the changes that are sure to have occurred, your captain’s appetite is the least likely to change. You can only imagine what power he has achieved in the last two years. Your stomach sinks a bit thinking about when you learned of Ace’s death in the Paramount War. The pain Luffy must have endured. Alone. But, he was not one to dwell, and wouldn’t want you to either.

So you don’t. You’re strong--much stronger than you were the last time the crew saw you. You’re not the same girl that you were two years ago. No, not even close. You’re taller, with broader shoulders and hips. While you were once slender due to malnutrition, you are now toned and muscled after two years of hard training. You felt vitality that you once never thought you’d feel coursing through your muscles. Your top, frayed at the hem, falls to just above your naval and drapes over one shoulder, leaving the other uncovered. Your s/c flesh is exposed to the waistband of your khaki shorts. The leather of your boots is soft and worn, the same pair you’d been wearing when you were launched away from your crew by Kuma. The holster dangling from your waist carried some of your throwing knives, which you twiddle absently at your side in nervousness. You had become adept at hand to hand combat since the crew saw you last. You are nimble, fast and lethal. You smirk and let the confidence roll over your body. You can’t wait to see how skilled everyone else had become.

You flex and stretch, standing up from the bench and begin your ascent up the stairs. They groan under your weight and you shift the bag on your shoulder, securing it more tightly against your body. You feel your heart beginning to race again at the thought of the final crew member. You can only imagine how strong he’d become.

Zoro.

You think of his green hair, and his white shirt, the top buttons always haphazardly undone. His slim black pants and boots, the sound of his earrings jangling in the sea breeze. You see his tight, intense gaze and that smirk that always weakened your knees. The knot in your stomach tangles more at the thought as you crest the top of the stairs. You recall the days that you sat in the Crow’s Nest together as he worked out. He never paid you much attention, but simply tolerating your presence in his sacred space made you feel important.

You feel the heat rise to your face and you can’t tell if it’s because of the sweltering sun of the Archipelago or the indecent thoughts that have begun to flood your mind. You take a deep breath as you nearly reach the doorway of Shakky’s place, when you stop in your tracks at the silhouette in the doorway. The sun is bright, so you can’t make out who it is right away, but as the figure takes a step, there’s no mistaking that green head of hair.

“Well,” You hear Shakky’s voice from inside the bar.

“Wow, I didn’t think you’d be the first,” You hear Rayleigh’s voice chime in.

The greenette stays silent for a moment and then replies, “Oh yeah? Nobody else has shown up.” He pauses. “Well damn, guess they got lost.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice. It’s unmistakable.

Before you can stop yourself, you call out to him. “Zoro!” You immediately flush, but you know this time it’s not from the heat.

You see Zoro stiffen at your voice, but he quickly turns around and meets your gaze with his own.

Christ…

You immediately notice that your eyes only meet one of his, a scar running from forehead to cheekbone on the left side of his face, his eye tightly shut. It makes him look even more ruggedly attractive, if at all possible, and you allow yourself to stare for a moment.  His jaw, still angular and chiseled, is formed into a lazy half-smirk. Your e/c eyes trail down from his jaw to his throat and his collarbone, a body part you became intimately familiar with when you’d spent long moments staring at it over the top of his unbuttoned shirt, wondering what it would be like to nuzzle your face into its contours.

A part you are not used to seeing so casually, was the rest of his broad chest, which is exposed under the deep green coat he was wearing, the trademark Mihawk scar that ran from shoulder to hip still proudly displayed. You are glad to see that his haramaki remained unchanged over the last two years along with the three swords he carries at his side. He shifts his weight to his left side and leans his forearm on the hilt of his swords.

“Y/n!” He replies with a broad grin of recognition. He jogs toward you, and you find yourself moving towards him too.

Zoro is stunned to see you. In all honesty, he is stunned to know that he’s the first to arrive in the first place. Although, he did leave several weeks prior. Just in case.

You are...so different. His eyes move across your body, and he coughs, a slight flush spreading across his cheeks. He grits his teeth frustratedly.

Shit...get it together. He thinks to himself.

“I can’t believe we’re the first ones here!” You say, before pausing. “Actually...how the hell are you the first one here??”

You laugh and he manages to chuckle too. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He jokes.

“Shakky and Raleigh inside?” You ask, jabbing your thumb towards the open door to the bar.

Zoro nods, rubbing a calloused hand at the nape of his neck. “Yep, they’re in there. Waiting like the old gossips they are.” He laughs quietly, shaking his head.

You can’t help but watch his arm move behind his head. His worn bandana is tied around his bicep over the top of his coat, and you can’t help but imagine how his tanned skin stretches over the muscle there. You realize, too late, that you had been silent for a beat too long.

“Y/n? You good?” He asks, raising a brow.

Your attention snaps back like a rubber band and you laugh nervously. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, sorry. Just can’t believe how long it’s been.” You say lamely.

You walk into the bar, Zoro trailing behind you and you greet Shakky and Rayleigh with a wide grin. Shakky compliments your new look, making you spin around as if to show off your outfit. You can’t help but feel confident and a surge of pride wells within you. She pours you a drink, having already poured one for Zoro, and invites you to sit down at a far booth. You sit next to Rayleigh, playfully bumping him and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. He gives you an affectionate squeeze as he tells you how pleased he is to see you guys again. Zoro takes a seat at the far corner of a booth. He props his feet up and takes a long drag of sake straight from the bottle. He’d already finished the drink that was poured, naturally, and stopped Shakky before she could pour him another. He asked for the bottle, shrugging and said that we should just “cut out the middleman.”

You regale the three others in your tales of the last two years. You speak about your Master, your training, the island you’d resided on, everything. Shakky gives updates too, about some of the rumors that had been floating around in the Strawhats’ absence, particularly about Luffy and Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. Shakky, never one to be subtle, asks Zoro pointblank about what he’d been up to.

“Eh, not too much excitement,” He says vaguely. “The usual. Swords, drinking, naps.” Shakky rolls her eyes, unsatisfied, but you just laugh, knowing that he was not one to talk too much about himself.

After a long while, the four of you notice that the sun has begun to set. You are beginning to feel the drinks you’d consumed, your laughter a bit louder, your tongue a bit looser, your hair a bit wilder. The bar is illuminated in deep orange and red hues and you glance over at Zoro. Half of his face is cast in shadow, while the other half colored the same tint as the room. It looks almost as if he is on fire and you are mesmerized by him. He’s staring at you intently. You see beads of sweat along his hairline, and you notice that he has removed his outer coat.

“Damn Shakky,” He breathes, not breaking eye contact with you. “I don’t remember it being this hot two years ago.”

Shakky laughs. “Well, we’re going through a bit of a heatwave right now. It’s unusual for this time of year, but occasionally the weather currents bring a front in. It’s supposed to be like this for the next few days.”

His knees are propped up and he rests his forearms on top of them as he breaks your gaze and looks out the window. HIs profile is immaculate, and your eyes trace each feature--his straight nose, his angled jaw, and his full lips. Your lips subconsciously part, and it isn’t until you feel your tongue on them that you notice how you’re staring. Shakky, however, has noticed how the two of you have been trading stares at each other the entire evening. She smirks and stands with a yawn.

“Well Rayleigh,” She starts. “It seems likes it’s about time to close up shop for the evening. You good?”

Rayleigh looks confused at first, however, when Shakky gestures quickly to you and Roronoa, Rayleigh nods knowingly. He looks down at his nearly full drink and smiles. He tips his head back and swigs down the rest, placing the empty glass resolutely on the hard wood. “You know what, Shakky? You’re absolutely right. These old bones can’t drink like they used to. I’m headed down to my place at the docks. It’s cooler there anyway.” He stands up and bids the room farewell. The doorbell jingles behind him as he exits the bar.

You get the feeling that they’d been watching you and Zoro, and you feel embarrassed. But you don’t want to complain. You just hope that Zoro wouldn’t be ready to turn in yet either.

Shakky approaches Zoro and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Night, Roronoa. If you get lonely, my room is always open.” She winks at him, entertained by how he squirms at the unexpected contact.

“Uh, yeah, sure…” He mutters, flustered. Shakky laughs.

“Shit Roronoa, just relax. I’m only kidding.” She walks over to a door behind the bar, presumably that led to her sleeping quarters, and opens it. “Or am I?” She grins slyly.

This time, Zoro knows better. The greenette shakes his head with a chuckle. “Goodnight, Shakky.”

She, too, disappears. The door closes behind her with a soft click, and the two of you are left alone. The sun has finally set beneath the mangroves and the sound of crickets fills the room. Despite the sun having set, the room is humid and very warm.

You reach a slender hand up and wipe beads of condensation off the back of your neck with a nervous sigh. “You’re right, Zoro,” You say after a moment. “It is absolutely stifling in here.”

He hums in agreement and holds up the bottle of sake questioningly. You nod and he tosses the closed bottle to you. However, his toss is a little short and to the left. But you’re fast and you catch it without a problem, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Aim much?” You joke as you pour yourself another drink before tossing it back to him.

He catches it easily and smirks. “Well, just checking to see if all that training you were going on about actually paid off.” He takes a swig. “Seems like it did.”

You were unbelievable. Zoro marvels at your agility. He had been enthralled as you told your story of the last two years. He watched the way your eyes lit up in excitement at certain parts or when your tone shifted to something more sinister. This was the y/n he’d always known--vibrant, curious and powerful. Zoro has always admired your tenacity. It was something of himself that he saw in you. He admired your intelligence as well, and your quick wit. It had always been a little intimidating, but now you were a force. It overwhelmed the swordsman. And thrilled him in the same way a new enemy excited him, got his adrenaline pumping and his heart racing.

He watches as you take a sip of your drink. His gaze follows the long line of your neck down to your collarbone, which he finds himself lingering on for longer than what was appropriate between nakama. You had always been objectively attractive, but Zoro never really paid attention to things like that. But now, you made that impossible to ignore. He is very attracted to you, entranced by your confident aura that pours off of you like cool sake.

The alcohol warms your blood and before you know what you’re doing, you prop your elbow on the table and say, “Seems like your training paid off too. I mean, look at you. All extra-muscley and shit.”

Zoro’s eyes widen slightly before he laughs out loud. “Thank you? I think.”

The liquid courage you’ve consumed does little for your filter (or your shame) so you continue. “I remember when I used to hang out in the Crow’s nest while you worked out. You were strong then, obviously. But it’s different now. You seem...invincible.” You breathe.

Zoro takes a moment to consider. “Invincible, huh?” He chuckles. “Hardly.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, but don’t reply.

Zoro stands up, his coat remaining in his seat. Your eyes follow the contour of his chest and he notices you watching him. He loves knowing that you look at him the same way that he looks at you.

“Come on,” He says after a moment, holding out his free hand, the other still holding the bottle of sake.

You take it without thinking. “Where are we going?” His hand is rough and cool to the touch, despite the heat in the room. He’s never held your hand before now. His good eye lands on you with a smirk that turns the knot low in your stomach.

“Up,” He replies in a whisper.

You nod wordlessly and stand up, trailing behind him as he walks towards the back door of the bar. When you exit, you sigh happily when a cool breeze flows along your damp skin. He echoes the sentiment with a contented hum, and continues towards the side of the building where he finds a ladder.

“Ladies first,” He grins, gesturing for you to climb the ladder up to the roof of the bar.

You raise an eyebrow, but comply nonetheless. As you climb, you make sure to move your hips more exaggeratedly, knowing the view you were providing him.

He knows exactly what he’s doing, of course, and admires your ass as you climb the ladder. You really are something. He wants to do more than just hold your hand. He wants to trail his hands along your curves, feel your strong body against the planes of his chest. He wants to know what your lips taste like, what your h/c hair feels like entangled in his fingers. But he knows that he needs to take it slow for both of your sake. It’s been two years. A lot has changed, and you are still his nakama first and foremost. There’s nothing that he would sacrifice to keep that.

The ladder is taller than you think it is by looking at it and when you arrive at the top of the bar, you are surprised to find an expansive platform.

“Wow,” You look open-mouthed. “How’d you know this was up here?” You look to Zoro who hops up onto the platform.

He shrugs. “I didn’t. I just saw the ladder earlier and figured it would be worth exploring.”

He walks up behind you in all of his shirtless beauty and sits, his legs apart as he leans back on his forearms. You’re still standing, looking up at the vast mangroves all around you, the stars peeking through the tree-tops. He lets you admire the scenery because it gives him a few moments to admire you. He clears his throat to get your attention and pulls you down to him.

With a light gasp, you find yourself sitting between his legs, your back against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. You are blushing furiously now. He hums contentedly, moving to nuzzle your hair and inhale your clean scent.

“What are you doing?” You manage to croak out.

“Enjoying the company,” He murmurs into the side of your neck.

You feel his heart beating swiftly against your back as you lean into him with a deep sigh. Your brain wants to overcomplicate this.

What does this mean? What does he want? Does he feel the same way about me that I feel about him? Does he...you gulp. Does he...want me, the way that I want him?

He feels you stiffen. “Y/n, hey,” He says. “It’s okay. This doesn’t have to mean anything that we don’t want it to mean.”

It seems like mind-reading is on the roster of new super powers he’s acquired. You grumble internally.

He laughs, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before he moves away. You whimper softly at the loss of contact, and turn to face him with a confused look. Though he did shift backwards, he didn’t move all that far away from you, so you’re surprised that you’re nearly face to face when you turn around.

He gently touches his thumb to your parted lips. “We’ve got time, y/n. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. So let’s just take the time and figure it out.” He smiles.

You feel your heart swell in your chest as you meet his intense stare. “Y-yeah, o-okay.” You stutter, still not quite believing that Roronoa Zoro has anything he wants to figure out with you. Your reverie is interrupted by Zoro’s gentle kiss. It’s a kiss that foreshadows what else could come of it, one that’s slow and burning and brimming with possibilities. He pulls away with a shudder.

Hello Lovelies! A bunch of PHENOMENAL Harry Potter writers and I decided to do a Summer Writing Challenge! We found a list of Summer Prompts and split them up, so starting August 1st, there will be a new fic from one of these amazing creators! 

The Masterlist for the event will be created by @hufflefluff-writer and include links to the fics and when they’re posted! And @summer-writes is the one making the fabulous moodboard 

HOWEVER, we still have some prompts that have not been claimed, so if you want to join in, you can send me an ask and we’ll add you! Your deadline is the day that your prompt is scheduled to come out! 

Day 1

Thesis time for 30 mins+

Edited format of entire file

Researched APA 7 formatting and publishing guidelines

Added acknowledgements, abstract and table of contents

Sometimes we need to talk about things that are unpleasant. In order to get past an unfriendly circumstance, we need to face it to allow ourselves to move forward; and sometimes we meet dark times that resurface if we don’t keep tabs on them.

I never thought that I would develop an eating disorder; I don’t think anyone expects their life to end up that way. But, when I was 18 I saw a BBC produced documentary titled, “Super Skinny Me” and that was the hand that pulled the trigger. This film documents two “average-size” British journalists who agreed to participate in a drastic weight loss experiment: drop five dress sizes in five weeks. Both women wanted to understand why women will go to such extremes to lose weight. They go through everything from extreme dieting and master cleanses such as “the lemonade diet” and the “watercress soup diet” to undergoing enemas to lose 4lbs in 15 minutes and diets consisting of “nothing but diet coke and cigarettes”. Both women manage to drop down from a normal size “8” to a double “0” in the five weeks. But at what cost? The psychological effects of forcing yourself to lose such a large amount of weight in such a short time are profound. Both women wind up with many issues as a result of their experiment. One of the journalists almost loses her long term relationship and the other meets extreme concern from her physician who becomes worried that she will continue the weight loss pattern.

A lot of people don’t realize that an eating disorder is a mental illness. A lot of people assume that someone suffering from an eating disorder is grossly vain and in need of attention. An eating disorder goes much deeper than that. Most people don’t realize that an eating disorder usually stems from an incessant need to be in control – I know based on personal experience – but it also comes from another disorder called “Body Dysmorphic Disorder”. This mental illness is described as a manifestation of excessive concern … and preoccupation with a perceived defect of their physical appearance. A person suffering with this will complain of a defect in one or several features of their body, or their general appearance. Often BDD co-occurs with emotional depression and anxiety, social withdrawal or social isolation.

I could recite a bunch of tv shows, articles and documentaries that I used as “thinspiration” – a term used by sufferers to “inspire” them to get to their goal weight. Another secret people should know about an eating disorder, there is never a “goal weight” in the mind of an affected person. Someone with anorexia or bulimia sees a completely altered version of themselves than what the rest of the world sees. It’s just like when you hear the sound of your voice on a recording and it sounds so much different to you. An anorexic will get on the scale one morning and see she’s reached her last goal of “10 pounds less” and she starts right back up to lose another 10, it’s not about shrinking down and looking like a bag of bones, in the mind of an anorexic, there is a level of perfection that can never be reached. It’s an endless battle.  

Eating disorders do not go away. You do not magically recover from it, it stays with you. It becomes a part of you. The choice I made to stay healthy is because I want to keep my relationships and I want to be a mother one day. I am currently in “recovery”, which means that I am not practicing my eating disorder habits, but the thoughts and pressure I put on myself is constant. If you, or someone you know suffers from an eating disorder, please do not turn your back on them. People need to make the choice to change for themselves, but they need help to make that step.

KidsHelpPhone: 1800-668-6868

I recently heard on the news that within seven to ten years there will be a pill available to literally make you shed 10% of your body weight in 3 days. Apparently, you could eat whatever you want and the weight will still melt off. The problem with this? According to the report, the medicine keeps going, and you will continue to shed pounds until you cease to exist. They will have to develop a pill/medication to stop the effects of the weight loss pill. If you can eat all the sugar and fat you want and lose that much weight in such a short time, what will happen to the rate of death by heart disease or diabetes? It would sky rocket. Not to mention, kids are already rooting through their parent’s bathroom cabinets and partake in “pill parties” where they grab any pill(s) they can find, mix them up in a bag and take whatever they pull out. Kids are taking everything from birth control, to Viagra, to Oxycodone and other serious medications. What is to say that kids won’t be rooting around the cabinet and popping these rapid weight loss meds? Here’s a better question, why is there discussion of a magical weigh loss drug becoming a reality quicker than the cure for cancer? Why have we, as a species, become so narcissistic and focused on the superficial?

Right now we live in a world where homosexuality and the rights of LGBT people are debated more heavily than the quality of food in public schools (which, by the way, has lower nutritional value than food in jails). We live in a world where more states in the US legally allow first cousins to get married than same sex couples and celebrities file for divorce after a few months of marriage. We live in a world in which we’ve been conditioned to believe there is a pill to cure everything. A world where the Kim Kardashians and Nicole “Snooki” Polizzis are more well known than last year’s Pulitzer Prize winner. If your child doesn’t have a fully operating cell phone by the tender age of eight, he is considered to be “below average”. Since when do pre-pubescent children need Iphones?

Constant reminders of celebrity diets and workout regimens continue to perpetuate insecurity and low self esteem amongst young men and women. According to the National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Eating Disorders, “eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any other mental illness”. And “the mortality rate associated with anorexia nervosa is 12 times higher than the death rate associated with ALL other causes of death among adolescent females between 14-25.”

We may not have flying cars parked in our garages or robots campaigning to be the next political leader, but we’re not too far off from an even scarier, darker, and more depressing world than we live in now. We’ve become so consumed with our own lives that we forget about the rest of the world. The rich continue to get richer while the poor get poorer and in due time the middle class will become obsolete. What is happening to our world? What is happening to our own communities and countries? We’ve become a wasteful, resentful, sickening and deplorable species. It’s no longer “survival of the fittest”, it’s become “survival of the richest”.

Two twin-sized mattresses share a king size frame. The first, slightly higher than the other, has one rusty spring exposed; luckily at the foot of the bed. The second shows its age through an inescapable indentation from years of the same person sleeping in the same spot night after night. Two pillows have been violently pushed against the headboard. The sheets lay at the foot of the bed in an almost unrecognizable ball. The off-white comforter lays on the ground, covering a mess of clothes.

The blinds are drawn tightly in a futile attempt to keep out light, and perhaps prying eyes. However, the result is a noticeable lack of fresh air and shadows large enough to disguise reality.

On a scarred nightstand is a fluorescent light that burns to touch, illuminating only the table. Next to the lamp lays an upended picture frame and a standard alarm clock, obscenely claiming that it is nine-thirty. The first drawer is open and the light shines off a torn box of Trojans. The box lays juxtapositioned to a Bible, an older version that still has crisp pages and a price label.

The carpet is a late seventies style shag. From the store it was bright orange with a pile of one inch in length. Now it is a dull orange and much shorter. In some places, the carpet has turned brown from the constant abuse of feet. In one spot near the door a floorboard shows through.

The most interesting parts of the room are the two options by which one can leave it. The first, farthest from the bed, is open into a cool, dark hallway. The second, closest to the bed, drips with moisture. A dim light breaks the continuance of door to floor. The shower is running.

A simple glass door shower has become opaque. A single shadow moves inside, writhing and shaking. The sound of the shower almost drowns out the soft sobs of a woman. The fan whirs and sticks, threatening to stop. It is an overused threat that has become empty.

The water is hot, too hot, making the floors and ceiling impossible to see. Attempts to wash away the mixed scents of sex and self doubt result only in angry red flesh. The shower stops but the figure remains within its prison. The fog clears.

Today my older brother, Benjamin and his girlfriend, Hayley are coming to my place. I am so excited for them to see our place in Indian Arm and to just relax, hang out and have some fun. It’s not often that I get to spend time with my older brother as he’s lived in Toronto for most of his life while I grew up in BC. When we do get to spend time together, it’s a blast.

Benjamin is an amazing person. He is full of energy and so much fun to be with. He is equally as beautiful on the inside as he is on the outside. With such a fun-loving, genuine personality, Ben is passionate to say the least. There are so many qualities he has that I wish I had myself, self assurance, a positive outlook on pretty much anything, and a go-out-there-and-make-your-dreams-happen attitude.

He’s been an actor forever. All bias aside, he is amazingly talented. I had the privilege of seeing him perform in Shakespeare’s King Lear when I went to visit him back in 2008. I had just recently turned 19 at the time and had planned my very first trip away from home by myself. I was nervous about flying and traveling on my own, but it turned out ok. I had so much fun hanging out with him, in his town, having him show me around and being able to meet his friends and colleagues. Ben and I always have fun together; he is just the best older brother anyone could ask for.

When Benjamin is not around, our family out here misses him gravely. Of course we want the best for him and wherever he is happiest, is where he should be. But, we always wish he were here with us all the time. Gabriel and I grew up extremely close and our bond will never change. Benjamin is very close with us as well, on an emotional level, but to be able to see his face as often as we’d like would be spectacular.

You’re begging for someone to fix you; you’re imperfect in your flaws.

I’ve forgotten how to look at you with objectivity; I’ve spent too many summer nights saving you from yourself. I’ve forgotten how to look at your life as a whole; I’ve spent so much time trying to fade that disheartening line between then and now in your own thoughts that it’s become a permanent fixture in mine.

I haven’t forgotten how you looked when you were young, when you had awkward filly legs – all length and no coordination, all excitement and no deliberation.

I haven’t forgotten how you looked when you were happy, when you had a crooked, mischievous smile – all contradictory teeth and invisible dimples.

I haven’t forgotten how you looked when the world was yours, when you had a promise that you wore on your sleeve – all determination and certainty.

I desperately want to forget how you look now that you’ve barely started your life, when you’re callous—all hip bones and scars, all melancholy and cigarettes.

I desperately want to forget how you look when you’re happy, when you have a crooked, scheming smile, when you’re happy due to pain, when you’re happy due to your own massacre.

I desperately want to forget how you look when you fall, when your eyes can’t hold my own, when the only promises you hold are the vodka in your veins and the disappointment in your heart.