HELLO THERE, LOVELY! WELCOME TO BITTERSWEET FOREVER
Both figuratively and literally, it is a task to occupy the generations. And no matter how much progress one makes, there is always the thrill of just beginning. We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.
SET IN: APRIL, 2018
04/21/18 We are currently in the middle of a website-wide revamp, so please be patient with incomplete content! Our website will remain open to new members during this time. If you have any questions, feel free to ask a member in our c-box, or an admin member via PM!
|bittersweet forever||Help Search Members Calendar|
|Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )||Resend Validation Email|
Each time the feeling fades, @aiden ledoux
PERMALINK // POSTED ON: Jan 17 2018, 01:12 AM
Look, I don't mean to frustrate, but i
ALWAYS MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES
Tyson was at a crossroads in his life. He was finding himself again just like he had set off to do, but at the same time, he wasn't so sure he liked himself still. Was he original? Was he completing his goals, his dreams, his vision? It was a process, sure, but how much was too much? How would he know when he reached the maximum time limit of self-discovery and was stuck where he was, no matter what? When would he reach the limit of being able to find himself?
Of course, the fact that he was thinking like this might be a sign of growth...He had yet to find a therapist in town that would understand him. Not like there were any "former circus performer people pleaser" therapists anywhere, but the other in New Orleans had been able to see through his issues and get to the heart of it. He was hoping to find someone close to that since his move in Seattle, and he was working on it, but in the meantime he was left to his own devices.
He was doing pretty decent so far, considering. He was doing well teaching, was going out and meeting new people, and had continued volunteering with the VA office after he helped Steve and Sam Wilson on Christmas. He had even started writing a book about his experience in the circus, with the intention that writing it out would be freeing as much as it was memorializing.
So he had hope. He had faith that he would regain the trust of his pack and friends. But to be told that he had to reside far from the Dunns as possible...It had made sense but that didn't stop his heart from skipping a few beats from the pain of it. But he'd get there. He would.
He didn't drink much - he found it altered his ability to control his emotions. But the occasional beer or glass of whiskey also helped him to ease his mind. He had needed food, as well, and so he stopped at the Mystic Grill after he was finished teaching. As he walked in, he decided to forego an actual table and just sit at the bar, saving the tables for those with actual company. He sat at the bar, a seat away from another patron, and smiled warmly at the very handsome and very most likely straight bartender, which was disappointing but such was life.
"Give me your best draft, please. Light if you can." He knocked absent-mindedly on the bar, looking through the menu though not really reading what he was seeing.
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)