Break into someones verizion voice mail

Tisishen Part Continued..
I was stuck at my current work at Mao’ye. A mall in the central part of Taiyuan in Shanxi. Coal dust central China. Frequent dust storms leaving me having to wipe the window sills of dust piles collecting. Life felt dry as the air—numb. I never know what I want. Drifting like paper in a breeze.
23 and feeling empty. Left the previous English training center I working at teaching adults. Company started going bankrupt. Boss was an asshole. He was originally from Datong near to Inner Mongolia.
That boss ran the company horribly. Was a coward of a boss. He would watch the cameras and email complaints on my dress code and not talk to me in person. A coward.
When the company was nosediving I got sent an email in the middle of the day stating my job would be terminated by the end of the month. I worked in china as an American. In china most jobs are based on contracts between employees and employers. I was supposed to continue another seven months with my job. The contract was broken when they emailed me saying they could not keep me due to salary. Contracts can be broken due to performance but not due to finance issues. I had already work for them a year on another contract. The law in China states I was due to be paid a year and a half of salary. My boss was such a coward to not speak to me in person and email the letter. I marched in his office and got told to fuck myself. I talked to the labor board at the local government office. I was told was told that I that they would have to pay me a year and a half of salary for breaking my contract.
Those times were rather gray for me. Clouds were heavy like gnats flying around the face. My girlfriend at the time was a stern nurse. The girl made of paper. She stayed beside. My fortress. Put up for adoption by her family in Henan. Where her adopted mother would put her hands in scolding hot water for punishment. She marched into my boss’s office and created a storm. He refused to budge. A few days later when the labor office contacted him he was willing to keep me for the rest of my contract. The labor office said that because my job was offered back I could not be paid if I left my job, as it would be my choice at that point. Frustrating. My wife had her uncle’s boss contacted from Taiyuan to go into the office. She had some influence in the area. She threatened to look over various certificates to get the branch in trouble. My boss did not budge. I decided to just go ahead and leave this English training center for teaching adults. I went for a new company that paid more passed in the Moye mall on the other end of the city. Now I would be teaching children again like I used.
Is this all I am? A server?
It makes me think of a time right before I met the woman made of paper. Stern from her experiences. A fighter. I like fighters.
I met fighters before. Reminds me of a story. A story I hold deeply to my heart. There was a woman named Ming. I met her through surfing on WeChat nearby searching for people looking for others nearby. Older by a few years. Met and became acquainted over messages.
Christmas tree lights in my head
Perched to be exploited…
Balloon with the air let out
Hissing all the time… because it whines
The inferno in me wants me to burn
Because it feels right
Christmas trees lit are under pressure—they know if they dry up the whole building will be in flames
So you have to be festive when you decorate—and avant-garde with who you decorate with
Maximalist at heart with pleasure
Nomads tend to wander to find a better part of the steppe
With a phallus as a Swiss Army Knife,
Paddling in northern China building a trench
22 year old Midwesterner with psychosis looking for a frigate to save him from the deep end
Impulsivity a catalyst for losing everything
I don’t care if you’re married, if you have a tunnel you can help me in the trench
Two staged rocket—
Already psychotic
Be a Launchpad
So I can get even further from earth
Ripple through the galaxy like I got a mission—
Even if it’s delusional
Another N1
Get myself on disconnect in the vacuum
Even if I come down Iike napalm.
I met Ming because I needed her and she needed me-even if she was married. I was 23 and without security. MY first job that I forgot from my boss Ryan was insane at times. Working without a visa for a company was unbearable. I felt obligated to my boss at that time he promised he could solve my issue if I worked hard for him. And I did. He was a bit corrupt too and not the greatest. Always offering going to brothels with people to make deals happen, including trying with me too. I never went. I did work hard for him though. I wanted to escape my predicament and he knew all the right people to contact to fix my problems if I met my obligations. Obligations could mean being asked to go to another training center to work part time and gather their curriculum for my school.
It felt unstable not knowing when I could get arrested or taken away. Made Ming a perfect connection to come across. I needed a friend that brought stability. She was a radio broadcaster in the city. Extremely wealthy. She would take me on outings eating delicious cuisine in the city or among weekend trips to interesting places nearby. I consider her one of the greatest friends I had. Because of her it was getting to meet other connections at outings with friends at KTV and clubs in the city. Like rhizomes growing out of a tree. Sustainability. It led to more rhizomes of connections. Something I want to talk more about. But I need to move the clock a bit. To the start of this ramble.
I was working in Maoye. I was on a legal visa at this time. My colleagues were not legal. They were often Slavic. Russian, Ukraine, and other Slavic nations. We had an office in the building setup on a third floor of a large mal with various classrooms for the foreign teachers to teach in. They would generally have a Chinese teaching assistant to help them in the classrooms. I taught students from pre-k age to middle school there.
In the middle of the setup of the floor layout was a large open office. I would sit and plan lessons and grade amongst the Chinese staff and foreign teachers. One day I grep of plain clothed officers came into the facility. They were checking on teachers on the wrong visas. The Russian teachers and others often could not fluently speak English or qualify for the correct visas—they didn’t meet the right requirements for work visas and would be on other various kinds of visas. They stormed in and I remember my Russian friend hearing the commotion tore his shirt with his logo on it and threw it on the ground in a rush. He ran shirtless down a stair well nearby flinging the doors open. Fear, anger… got to fill their class schedule while they are all out hiding.
Final Taishen
I met Chang’e. Do you believe in the transplanting of thoughts? I do. Like pollen.
My thoughts can transplant and Change can do the same too.
Mania got me again. I wrote a poem when I was younger to express it.
Feeling bold and exacerbated
Maybe I am just high strung
Ricocheting off these walls like bumper cars
A sparkler burning hot and bright
Popping off like roman candles
I am not always calm, but I am high,
A kettle left on the burner and forgotten,
Watch me melt away into my ecstasy
Where I dance and scream all in one
I’ll hit peak when crisis comes.
I hadn’t been sleeping. I took a second English teaching job and was seeing attending to seeing different people besides Ming.
Ming was kind and always took me on nice dinner dates. I didn’t have to worry about expenses and felt secure.
I was back on my smartphone looking and fishing for people nearby. Chang’e came in as a breeze from Luoyang to meeting a relative in Taiyuan.
Chang’e was working for a boss in Taiyuan. She would go on the WeChat application looking for men nearby. Flirt to get them to meet her. Like moths in dark they get to the lights:
Useless as a glass door. You can peek through. Pigeon-toed. Drained an ocean to fill insecurities. Uncomfortable thoughts ricochet in me. Like an ambush. Giddy when disappointed. I build trenches amongst the tripwires of life. City feels like a tsunami. Manners like a bloated tick. Sipping the veins from any limb around me. As a stranger to a moth, a porch light pulling. Desolate in lost thoughts. Nights awake and bunkering in hotels. Soft in my voice, I hopscotch to hands—falling through like particles of sand. With enough friction to set off an atom bomb. To radiate right through me, and hollow my marrow. Amongst open nerves I can feel something, so I play with the pain. No matter how annoying.
As particles I transplanted through to her screen as we lay in our separate beds in the city. Mania makes me dumb. We flattered away. Fused as particles.
Her intent was for me to arrive at a designated location to drink and eat late into the night—11:00 p.m. With this given location I would be taken down like an elephant via poachers—that was the intent. At the location I was to be given an outrageous bill for the service and if I did not pay a group of big men would use their physical presence to get me to pay.
When I met her at the given location outside the door. I knew the tricks. I tested her. Asked if she would be willing to eat at another location.
She thought she would eat me and I thought I would eat her. My test was asking her to go to another place at the KTV nearby where I knew somebody that worked there—a karaoke location—the LED lights shining and me and her staring at the direction of them.
She hesitated and insisted on the location next to us. I said I had to go—before I left to contact if willing in the future to go to the KTV.
Where a perpetual hydrogen bomb would go off on our fused particles.
………. Final
The End
Her name was Lily. She wanted to be a princess. Or that is what she said all the time. Kind of hope she was joking. But I have the same problem. She kept talking about peaches and their rising cost. She was a host for live streaming . She was Korean but was cosmopolitan. She spent time in america going to school and aside from English she also learned to speak Japanese fluently .
She wanted to know if peaches were of a similar price back in america. Small talk is necessary or it can feel claustrophobic. Agonizing.
I was viewing and felt agony. Like so many do. I needed more and better than the life I felt.
Imagine calling 988 for a bit of help. You are isolated and all alone in your predicament. Where is the support? Why I get a robot on the line talking to me telling me to wait—where are the humans?
Alienation n the chamber of life. That is my life as Taishen.
Lily and her viewers provided a sense of community that I did not have. And it appears she was a contact with Chang’e via streaming that I did not know.
I am just Luo feeling alienated and climbing over the wall to get some needed assistance. Comfort amongst cold—sanctuary—hope. I was staying in Zhengzhou at this time. Originally from the flower city of Luoyang in Henan—a central province of China. I was working at the Foxxconn factory—where parts of the IPhone were made—largest iPhone factory based in China. I have to ear to feed my family like anyone else. I have a 7 year old daughter being watched by my mother in law in Luoyang—my wife was working in guangzhou at a factory. I never get to see my wife. I had feelings she might be in a relationship with a man in guangzhou. How can she be blamed? She has no love around. Her just like I don’t. If my wife is with another I might as well do my best to find connection. To stay afloat. Brushing gifts to a live streamer. I was even starting to pick up on new languages like Japanese, English, and Korean by doing it. My life was a trap. I must work to bring security to my wife who cannot bring security to me. To leave her would cause me to lose face and I would rather die than face that. Life can never be ordinary for me.
The days and habits of finding a sanctuary on an iPhone that I had to slave away and make amongst my unhappiness was a cruel punishment for just being me. I always am the victim. I’m unable to deceive myself to be happy. Nobody to hold me—I am a fish out of water. I feel the tension pull me like hooks trying to rip me into confetti—I am sure some would applaud at the sight of me being gone.
News and gossip of a virus running around like a plague. From Wuhan. Amusing as my former love came from there when we met in university. She left me like everyone else. I need Freon like a freezer to cook the hate off I feel inside me. I blend in my feelings of worth and self until it spatters as something abstract and abhorrent—like mold on a wall.
Aside from live stream hosts, I found an escape smoking hashish and going to the local brothel with colleagues. I ventured further and further from recognizing who I am. And the news of COVID had only made it worse. And n my hometown near Luoyang they put dirt and and tree trunks to block the roads to keep people from coming in and going out. I went along like getting stuck in thorny bushes and my calves left burnt. The factory became like a firecracker left held in hands pointing up to the sky. Like there is a thing like hope. There is none—gone like air out of a balloon. My fate was stolen away.
Security wanes no matter the solidity of the rock—just take enough rain to form a flood to erode—like banks as paper—pretty on the outside but not secure when the money is all gone.
Within the factory we were not receiving our allowances like we did before. Amongst stress of Covid and its unknowns we became like fish in a shrinking pool of water—agitated and biting each others scales. Abrasion. Friction. An unleashed turmoil to become a tsunami of emotions. Class felt like an overhead lamp causing the eyes to go red and burn.
Cases popped up like sprouting trees with rhizomes. When we wanted our own rooms we were told it was not a possibility. Healthy stuck with sick like classes mixing—a metaphor of it all—anger soar like geyser. Covid became a judicial sentence. Amongst a couple months before the banks failed and people could not get the money they put in. Large sums! And when the anger rose it set off the codes on our phones. Everyone must show their status. If one was positive for Covid their icon was red to indicate level of restriction—one must stay home regardless if the food that came from the government was fresh or if it even ever came at all. Green was good. But soon if you criticized the banking failure your code was red to keep one quit. The virus was the police—a means to shut up somebody like a baton. And the batons would come at the factory. Causes soon that political red of a dot was mixed with the green to allow infection to the healthy, which mean the baton of the government saying the worth of us—we were meant to shut up and is our part at the factory and ass caged dogs. Like the paper banks—when the money ran out the codes were sent to red to keep mouths homes while plain clothes cops beat the working class in the name of the communist party. Our party became paradoxical as the sickle and hammer—as it became more of the baton to make the money run and build the iPhones that make happy elites in Beijing who couldn’t care about zhengzhou. Like ants escaping the confines of an anthill drowning in the rain. Popping like bubbles in anguish.
Everything was blended in this world. Even Lily was not who she seemed. But I rather save that for another time.
The bubble was extended and the people left the confines of their residents on the company grounds despite orders that all must stay within due to COVID. Enough had formed for rebellion. Outside on the grounds the workers threw rocks, bottles, and metal fence at security in to shut them up. The batons came. iPhones were out to record what was happening. The image was bad and the workers were paid to leave the commotion and uprising as a means of saving face.
Heaven’s mandate was showing—the promise that all would be in order from the authority provided over all—no natural disasters—and I could smell flood water in the future. Beijing was not so efficiently coupled to Henan. And the security provided was looking like a facade—like glowing skyscrapers pointing at heaven—but in reality most of the buildings had nothing inside of them—bubbles to burst like the agitation felt at Foxconn.
Lily was a facade—Lily was actually Chang’e putting a show on iPhones, with perpetual hooks extending like a limb from the screen for men to bite on. Money like a work for hungry sparrows everywhere—a curse running through the zeitgeist of the time—and it was looking like the concrete was crumbling around the barriers to keep floodwaters out.
I want to laugh at the thought of small talk on peaches—the irrigation dug to make land fertile was looking more like the weapon to cause immense harm—there was a contagion besides COVID—the act of treating others as an end instead of ends to themselves—agency lost. It the slap of reality was going to come like a comet wiping extinct the good and the bad—as the water would come and cause the loss of life. In Shangqiu a girl of paper was abandoned by parents in poverty while some officials sent their kids to school abroad with sports cars—one of those princesses ran over someone and even thought heaven made him too perfect to face Justice. Something was wrong and scarily felt like it just begun.

This all started a few years ago. After I found out I was gay, I started occasionally thinking about what it would be like if I were a girl. I was very depressed at the time (and still am, but I'll come back to that later), so I started to hate myself and my body more and more.
It's getting worse and is seriously starting to affect my life. It's become more of a desire, because pretty much everything would be better if I were a girl. Normally that would be enough for most people to accept they're trans, but there are a number of factors that make me doubt I am.
1: I'm gay, so that might have something to do with it.
2: So far I've identified as a femboy, because that would explain why I want to dress more feminine.
3: I'm extremely introverted and lonely. Therefore, I don't know much about other people and their feelings. I once asked my friends (granted, only three people) this: if there was a button that would turn you into a girl for a certain amount of time, would you push it? They all said yes. And they are all cis. So I've always been of the opinion that the interest in being the opposite sex is only common among cis men.
4: I'm depressed.
So I think maybe it's just a side effect of all these things and that I'm just overthinking it. It's like I'm just sad and lonely and into guys and that's why I came up with this explanation for all of this.
But I'm really not comfortable with my height, my face, my voice, hell, my whole body.
If I were a girl, pretty much everything would change for the better for me, but right now there's just no way for me to transition. I'm too tall, my father is extremely transphobic and I don't have the courage to tell anyone.
It makes me more and more depressed every day.
I just need someone to talk to this about and some advice. Thanks.

It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Taishen… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.
“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.
“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.
I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.
A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.
I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.
I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.
I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.
The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist. The vulnerability equation is imprinted on my brain.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.
Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.
From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.
Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin, it tells worth—the reason for troubles—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
In a pit. I get to burn as paper amongst another’s paper. Eternally. With a life that will keep reoccurring.
Part 3 Liu
A woman like Chang’e lived on a moon. Far away.
You can refer to me as Liu.
At the age of 19 I was diagnosed with a severe nerve pain condition. It is called trigeminal neuralgia but you can call it TN for ease.
I was frustrated. I had completed a degree in international finances from Chongqing University of Business and Technology. The boom of the economy was not the same. There was an urge to “lay flat”—to not try as a form of opposition to everything going on in a waning economy in China.
All are elephants chained for an audience. People love to peek and stare as though they are glass doors without hinges—to be made feel useless.
I developed TN at the age of 19, and was now 22. It came as an arrow, and quite literally to the face. It’s a rare nerve pain disorder often considered one of the most painful conditions known.
The illness involves intense nerve pain throughout the left side of my face. It felt like someone was trying to pull all of the teeth on the left side of my face without anesthesia. The pain can leave me falling to the floor unable to speak or move while screaming profanities while choked by pain. A feeling of a knife to my face over and over again. It leaves me in absolute shock. Like Roman candles to the face. An absolute hindrance. The anticipation of not knowing when it will happen again is a nightmare at times.
The disease is often called the suicide disease, apparently up to 26% try to take their lives. In a state of panic during one of the nerve attacks I began swallowing any pill near to me. I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped when I was found comatose by my mother.
I want to be Chang’e and on the moon and away from a world I have had enough of.
Gossip spread around the workplace that I attempted suicide over an affair with a married man. There was too much guilt to return to the workplace. COVID did have an impact to the economy. I still remember my hometown having dirt and trees piled onto the exits and entrances to the city keep people in their places.
The work I did find felt beneath me. China has what is called the great firewall that keeps something in and out of the country’s networks. A VPN was necessary to access American TikTok as it was used as opposed to the Chinese version.
Feels humiliating the nature of the outcome for me—I gave up in many ways like so many Chinese youth. For work I would go to a local office building. Amongst a long hall would be a room for live stream performers. I would entertain with watchers while trying to obtain virtual gifts for actual money. I despised it—sometimes the conversation could be funny or interesting but it felt hollow.
I would paint flowers on my face and wear hanfu clothing while doing ASMR.
I had a mind of sparklers burning until it burnt and stung like wax—like I had the option to stop and cry and those tears stuck as wax and burnt or I soldiered on and grew accustomed to the pain. I was an elephant chained. The audience watched and interacted with me on the live. I was a chained elephant when it was found out about my previous attempt and when the rumors spread.
Too many thorns in life. Nails hitting at the wrong points like an equation for something terrible to eventually happen.
My favorite dish was Henan noodles. I often cooked it with my mom. It provides great memories of childhood. I hadn’t talked to my mother as much as before. She moved to a job in Taiyuan.
Sometimes I would go up to visit her. But it was harder as she worked more and more hours. Sometimes voids build even when going through extreme nerve pain. And with trigeminal neuralgia, the pain was so intense that I would freeze and scream in pain. It cannot always be hid. It made me an elephant tethered.
Life can be like a pressure like no other. Too much stress. Makes one feel irritable with a mouth like a sprinkler of napalm when someone is too close. Life feels like a lit fire cracker held—in the end it would tear my hand up. Things kept building while the other side of my face began to hurt too recently. This was rare and not so common. My eyesight was becoming blurry too and it seemed I might have multiple sclerosis as the pain was on both side, it was not common for my age, and the blurry eyesight. An appointment was scheduled and I felt terrified to know what was going on and wondered if it was best to not even know my health.
I walked out of the studio and had a cigarette. My boss came out and joined to talk. He was concerned about view count and wanted me to do things to increase it that made me feel uncomfortable. He made a few comments I found incentive.
The boss sure liked to criticize and apply pressure. He was not impressed with my work and thought I could do something different. In China an application is used called WeChat. This application has many uses. People can display and share moments like a Facebook wall, message each other, send money, video chat, and even has a feature to find people near to you who are also looking for people near to them. I was to attract people onto dates. The idea was they would be lured in and the men would go to a set destination to a planned tea house that served snacks. When the men arrived (they had no knowledge of the setup) the bill would be at an absurd rate and if the men refused to pay larger men would use their size to force them to pay up.
I was not sure at the time yet if I wanted the job. Being worried about ethics and safety. It was something I would have to think about.
My medical expenses were growing and I knew the nerve disease could be expensive to treat with surgery. All I had was thoughts while looking at the moon.
Part 4 Taishen
My former roommate in the ward I shared a room with had paranoid schizophrenia. I was stuck in the same place due to mania, and just had gotten my diagnosis of bipolar disorder.
I was so pissed being stuck there and felt I had no business being there. I found my diagnosis to be an insult to me. I was only 18 at the time—taken in on a stretcher. Made me feel very vulnerable and irritated.
My roommate was having delusions related to Christianity and could not stop waking me up in the middle of the night to ask and talk about Jesus. Left me beyond frustrated.
He was drifting from his wife and would go on and on about intending to leave her. Felt he was spied and plotted against by her. So we were both frustrated with being there.
The toilets were special. They would flush what needed to be flushed but not certain things like pills—it helped to keep people from hiding they were not taking their medications.
He had tried to flush his wedding ring down the toilet but he did not realized it didn’t flush. I went to use the restroom later and saw the ring. I told him. He took it out. He found it to be a sign form God that he is to stay with his wife, and there was immense happiness in his eyes.

I'll try and keep it short because I could go on for a while about our history together. I was with my ex (who I suspect has bpd) for four years. We lived together for two years. She also has a seven year old daughter who sees me as her Dad. The relationship got progressively worse as it went on, especially the last year together. All the usual things you would expect from someone with bpd, apart from cheating, I don't think she did that. But the angry outbursts, rages, starting fights over nothing, lying, drinking, drugs, treating her daughter very badly, shouting and screaming at her, treating me badly, not caring about anybody but herself, being very self absorbed, self centred etc. There was a crisis nearly every week, she was negative about everything, she was always the victim. Every ex-boyfriend was abusive. She had had a traumatic childhood and suffered with depression which I did my best to help support her with but in the end she wore me down until my mental health was at breaking point.
I can say hand on my heart that all I ever wanted was the best for her, I was supporting her with university, and doing whatever I could to make her happy. I was so happy when we moved in together, thinking how lucky I was to have such a gorgeous girlfriend and happy, loving step-daughter. I was on cloud nine. It's all I ever wanted, a happy family and good times. No drama (I still expected life's up and downs of course), just making happy memories. But she took advantage and I started doing more and more, with her caring less and less. For a short period I was basically a single dad working a full time job. I don't say this to get sympathy just to paint the picture of how I was pushed to complete exhaustion keeping her happy, trying my best to look after and support my family. And her ways also brought the worst out in me. I would try not to get sucked into arguments but she would eventually push my buttons until I shouted back and then I would hate myself afterwards. This has never happened in previous relationships. I don't have a temper and my family joke about how if I was more laid back I would fall over. I was turning into someone I wasn't, my mental health was declining, I could no longer make excuses for her behaviour and I left.
After I left, I was an absolute wreck. A shell of myself. I was anxious, didn't know up from down, my head was frazzled. I found out about bpd, after looking for an explanation for her behaviour and it seemed to fit. I told her about it thinking it might explain things for her too. It didn't go down well. Then I did a deep dive into it and found out about npd and wondered if she had this too as it also seemed to fit. I then went through the 'Wait a minute, am I the narcissist' phase? Mostly through her accusing me of being the abuser which also really messed with my head. I asked my parents and my sister if I had done anything wrong (not the most impartial opinion I know) after I had told them truthfully, plainly and simply everything that had gone on in the relationship, even leaving some of her bad behaviour out of it as I knew it would upset them. They said I hadn't done anything wrong and that I had been the victim of an abusive relationship and that she has obvious mental issues. They have also listened to messages I have received from my ex since the break up and also been on the receiving end of one or two from her, which has only made them think even less of her and further confirm their opinion of her. I have also started reading 'Stop Caretaking the Borderline or Narcissist' and it seemed to describe my relationship to a tee. Not to mention finding this subreddit, which has been an absolute lifesaver in understanding my situation and realising I'm not alone.
Recently I stumbled across a post on a narcissist abuse subreddit. The person posting had written out the most commonly used phrases they had found were used by narcissists in relationships and was asking how many phrases members of the sub were familiar with. Almost all who replied were saying something along the lines of 'Yes! This is so accurate to my relationship with my narc. He/she used to say these all the time along with 'xyz'' They were also saying that they had been accused of having bpd, apparently another common tactic of the narcissist. I read the phrases and realised I had said most, not all, but most of them when drawn into an argument with my ex. Also along with the bpd accusation. I was stunned and it's brought back my fears of wondering if I am a narcissist or possibly a covert narcissist? I understand that the usual reply is that if you wonder if you are a narcissist then you aren't one. But I've also heard it been said that this isn't always the case. I also have large amounts of guilt and shame about how I acted in arguments, that were completely out of character for me and hadn't happened in previous relationships. Does this mean I'm not a narcissist? Or am I a narcissist? Was I the problem? Did I make things worse?
I genuinely only wanted a good and happy life with my ex and my step-daughter and I'm looking at therapy to get over it. Any advice appreciated. Tried to keep it short but still rambled. Apologies. Thank you if you read this far. I will write out all the phrases used in the narcissistic abuse post, down below. Thank you.
'Here we go again' 'All you do is start fights with me' 'You're so immature' 'This is what a kid acts like' 'You need to learn to control your emotions' 'I'm not your emotional punching bag' 'You just don't get it' 'I've literally done nothing wrong' 'You never listen' 'I'm so tired of this' 'Leave me alone' 'Anyone would be upset about this/agree with me' Stop making yourself a victim/playing victim/You're not the victim' 'Stop making me into the bad guy'

I have been so down lately. It has ro particular reason and every small thing is now enough to make me cry. I used to stay silent about it and able to hold back my tears but this year I can’t. For example I have exams and they stress me but no matter how much I stress I can’t bring myself to study till last minute. It is not even that I make that bad on exams, I am an average student but I used to pass any academic event with little to no effort and now days of studying is not enough. During my first exam week, like two months we argued with my sister and I just suddenly started to cry. I don’t even know why but i couldn’t stop either. She understood that time and our argument was over. The last two months we have been fine and happy. But i was feeling stressed today because yesterday I baked for the first time for my classmates but the cookie’s weren’t aesthetically pleasing. I know it is not that important but everyone in my class had to bring something to eat for our class event and I had no other chance but take my cookies. They didn’t even taste bad they were just ugly. While I was baking, my sister texted me to clean up the kitchen and I said okay and after I finished I put dirty dishes to the dishwasher but i couldn’t fit them all so i left some in the counter so my brother in law would load them. Also my cookies weren’t in the oven enough so my sister told me to put them in the oven back and wait a little more.( He can fit anything to that dishwasher. ) After I went to sleep and woke up in the morning we were fine with my sister and getting ready for school (shes a teacher) but I was feeling down because I didn’t want my classmates to make fun of my cookies. They are just ugly and some of them care about aesthetics a lot and bake so good too. Anyway I was walking with my sister and ahe asked why i was looking down and i said it’s nothing because i didn’t want to explain myself because i felt like crying, again for no reason at all. But then we chatted a little and out of the lines i randomly said I wish i didn’t put them back in the oven so they wouldn’t be over-baked. I might be faulty at this point but she took it so personally and told me i was blaming her and I said I wasn’t and I was just complaining. While saying that my voice must be high because one of her student were passing by and she got angry telling me that I cant act like that to her in-front of her students and I said sorry and I didn’t notice. She said I clearly did and did it because i was blaming her for my bad cookies and I said i didn’t again. We argued while walking and while on our way school, she walked towards the market. We were arguing and I already felt bad so while she was going I unintentionally started to cry and she noticed and asked why i I was crying, she askedagain and again. I told her I didn’t have a reason at all and asked if i couldn’t just feel bad out of nowhere and she was angry and told me to just cry. I said i will because I feel much better after crying and she got angry but we separated our ways and I went to school. In school I texted her an apology message and she said it was okay and we were just fine. I even took her some of the bakings my classmates did as an apology gift. After we went home she was giving me the cold shoulder and I tried to approach her but she ignored me. She then told me that my brother in law and her had an argument because I didn’t load the dishes. She said she wouldn’t have another argument with him because of me and I said sorry and I couldn’t fit them all so i left some and she said i could have started the washer and unload it to load it again. I again said sorry and I couldn’t think about it and she said I better have because I am almost an adult now. Then i stood in the kitchen and she said I am sorry for breaking your heart and I was surprised and said it is okay and i never blame her for losing her temper because it is hard to look after a teenager. I was happy because I thought we were on good terms but then she said she was being sarcastic. Again, like baby I felt my tears but didn’t cry and she said as if she is making fun of me: are you gonna cry? I said I meant it and i was never angry at her for losing her temper with me because i make a lot of mistakes. I think. She wanted an angry reaction from me but I couldn’t feel angry at all mostly because I always feel sad over angry. I accept here I didn’t want to give her the joy to win over me so I acted as emotionless I can to make her know that her hurtful words don’t mean 💩 but they do. Though I always apologize, I understand that apologizing is not always enough to cover my impulsive actions so i leave people to be. I did the same thing and went to cry. I honestly try my best to be grateful for everything I have because without her and her husband I d be lost but I cant help but cry at every small argument and event I have with someone, especially family. My sister sacrificed so much for me and I feel so guilty ar every mistake I make. She is ready to spend so much for me but I think of every little money because I feel like a burden sometimes. Also my brother in law says that he never tells me mistakes because i always start to tear up and tells them to my sister which starts an argument between them. I always explain myself and my point of view I never show so much emotion except crying and I think that pisses people off. I always say sorry and i think that piss people off too. I tried to show my anger to people when I argue and I end up crying and more on wrong but we make up faster hen I show anger instead of sadness. She is giving me the could shoulder again and I honestly don’t understand what can I do to be better.

It was like Amazon. For boyfriend's.
According to his bio, Cam was a cat person.
His favorite food was sushi, and he loved horror movies.
His profile was cute. Cam’s photo looked professionally taken. He was a guy in his mid twenties with a slight curl in his lip that teased the start of a smile. Maybe a little on the pretentious side with the Sherlock style trench coat, though his eyes were what pulled me in.
I don't think I had ever seen that shade of blue.
Like staring directly into a perfect, crystalline blue sky.
Not quite natural, but too beautiful to ignore.
Cam was perfect.
Now, I didn't really think this Hire-a-boyfriend thing through.
I found the app through a link my friend Hannah sent me.
After just getting out of a pretty toxic relationship, finding someone to just hang out with was more comforting than dwelling on a relationship I have trouble even remembering. I don't think I can describe loving someone I don't remember. I have zero memories of him, only a vague sense that I was drowning.
That I had to run, to get away from him.
His face inside my mind is more of an outline, a shadow I can't make out. My therapist said it was PTSD, my mind’s way of dealing with trauma. I don't know the details, but I woke up in the emergency room with stitches in the back of my head.
Hanna was straight forward in her text.
She told me Hire-a-Boyfriend pulled her out of depression.
I was sceptical, though the app looked legit.
Like I said, it was Amazon. For boyfriend's.
The interface was cute.
When I signed in through my apple account, the app required a questionnaire after registering.
They asked details such as my likes, hobbies, and who and what I was in the mood for.
The Boyfriend™️ was a bestseller.
I found Cam on the feature page. His reviews were sparkling.
I hired Cam for a wedding! He was amazing! So polite, I wish he was my real bf :( - Lissa.
“Watched a movie with Cam, and he talked all the way through it. Not in a bad way lol, the movie was terrible. This guy was hot. I fully recommend”! - Ryan.
”Hire a bf is amazing lmao, my friends actually thought we were dating. The plastic thing ruins it tho. 😭” - Mina.
Scrolling down, there were even Husbands™️.
Husbands were more expensive, and could be hired for up to three days.
The Boyfriend™️, however, was only available for 2 hours up to a full night.
The app intrigued me.
I thought it was a joke, but could I really hire a pretend boyfriend?
Before I knew what was happening, I was on my second glass of wine, and my credit card was definitely in my hand, squeezed between my fingers.
In the back of my mind, hiring a boyfriend was a whole other level of dystopia.
However, I was still lying to college friends about being taken. Even worse, I blabbed I was fucking engaged at twenty three. This was definitely a me problem. My initial plan was to close down the app and install Tinder.
But my credit card was feeling heavy in my hand, the corner spiking my palm.
Cam was 50 bucks for half a day with him.
50 bucks I would otherwise spend on Uber Eats or over-expensive makeup.
Tapping on Cam, my hands were shaking. I was halfway through the hiring process that was settling on a day, a time, and a location, when a discounted Boyfriend™️ popped up.
Roman.
23.
Leaving soon!!!
Roman had two reviews, which was just a string of heart emojis and another that was hidden. I did see the start of it, but I wouldn't let me tap read more.
Hey! Isn't this… [REVIEW HIDDEN]
The guy’s lack of bio was slightly off-putting. No likes or hobbies, not even a favorite TV show. Roman’s photo stood out, however. Dark hair that was the perfect kind of messy, freckles, and a far-away look, half lidded eyes not even meeting the camera.
He looked like a daydreamer.
It made sense why this guy was on a discount. He didn't smile in one photo, and not even the teasing smirk I was used to with the others. His available photos were him standing awkwardly, arms crossed across his chest, as if he didn't know where to put them.
But, like Cam, this Boyfriend was flawless.
Not a hair out of place, and if it was, that was the style.
Each guy had a color scheme, and his color was chestnut.
His description caught my eye.
Perfect caramel coloured curls and eyes like melted chocolate. Roman is our favorite ‘Fall’ guy! An enemy to a lover in three (yes, three!) dates!
I had to agree. This guy embodied Fall itself, every outfit in deep oranges and browns that reminded me of crisp autumnal mornings. I think they were trying to sell college guy with him holding a book, and looking uncomfortable wearing a pair of glasses. His last photo was a full zoom in, capturing flawless skin and tawny eyes swirling with flecks of red.
Out of all of the guys I had scrolled through, this was the only guy who looked like he had personality.
Cam was cute, yes. But Cam reminded me of a mannequin. He was too perfect.
Roman’s perfection was human enough for him to feel real. Cam was a Ken doll wearing the exact same grin that people knew would sell. Roman was scowling, standing slightly tilted to the left, his hands in his pockets, and then squeezed into fists, before settling over his chest.
I could practically hear the impatient voice behind the camera.
Why are you scowling? Smile! Do you know how to smile?!”
“Eyes on the camera! Look awake! You're supposed to look appealing, why do you look half asleep?!”*
He made me wonder what the BTS behind Hire A Boyfriend was.
Cam was marketed as true love, while Roman was the guy next door who drives you insane, but is also kind of hot.
Were these guys strapped for cash and selling themselves out?
Was this all an act, or were they based on their real personalities?
Either way, I was sold.
Tapping hire, I chose our date to be in the city park at 3PM.
The app asked me if I had any special preferences, and I hesitated.
“Call me a donut.” I typed. If this thing was legit, this poor guy has a script.
I was nervous to meet him. After class in the afternoon, I headed to the park. It was raining, so already the date was going great. The receipt I received in my emails had the exact location, a green bench next to the water fountain.
I was five minutes early, already regretting my spontaneous, wine induced decision making.
Scrolling through my phone with clammy fingers, I was trying to cancel, when the bench wobbled next to me.
Roman.
Dressed in his usual autumnal wear, a levi’s jacket with jeans and a beanie, he looked exactly like his profile, already scowling at the ground, that exact same faraway look in his eyes.
My Boyfriend™️ was purposely distancing himself, sliding further away from me. After getting mildly offended, I remembered his standoff attitude and perma-scowl was his selling point.
The refusal to smile and inability to compliment me.
Enemy to a Lover.
He was acting.
“Hi.” His voice was a low mumble. Still refusing to look at me, he tipped his head back and blinked at the tree looming over us. “It's, um, Jane, right?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “Hi.”
I watched his gaze wander, lingering on a butterfly. He folded his arms, pursing his lips. I had no idea what he was trying to say, before he let out a groan.
“I'm not calling you a fucking donut.”
Ooh, this guy was really getting into the role.
I liked it, playing along.
“It's fine,” I said with a laugh, “It was a stupid request.”
Roman met my eye, his lip curling. He wasn't laughing. “Yeah. It was.”
This guy was a pro.
I thought I'd made a mistake. Especially when my ‘boyfriend’ refused to walk by my side, stalking behind me instead.
He took me to a restaurant and bought me the cheapest option, indulging in the delicacy menu himself, and spent an hour ranting about birds not being real.
I started to realize why this guy was on discount. He was a fucking weirdo.
Still, though, everything about him was endearing.
The way his gaze wandered when I was speaking, like I could physically see his mind jetting off to Saturn.
Roman played with his hair a lot, twirling a single strand around his index. He ate his pasta like a psychopath, using a spoon instead of a fork, and spoke with his mouth full, spaghetti sauce running down his chin.
He (unintentionally) made me laugh out loud multiple times.
When we left the restaurant, Roman surprised me by slipping his hand in mine, entangling our fingers.
His gesture was unexpectedly warm.
When we parted ways, he had the slightest curve of a smile hinting that he was getting a little closer to me.
That’s how Hire a Boyfriend lured you in.
Their guys were like video game characters. I had to pay more to build them.
And that is what I did.
My friend was an artist, and invited me and my ‘boyfriend’ to her exhibition.
I hired Roman for the exhibition, but halfway through the date, he leaned his head on my shoulder, grasping tighter to my hand. He didn't get any less weirder, officially freaking out my friend with the birds aren't real theory. Eve was more amused than scared, immediately asking for his socials.
Roman said he didn't know what a social was, and she laughed harder.
“Your boyfriend is amazing,” Eve told me over drinks, “Isn't he like, literally perfect?”
Yes, he was.
But he wasn't mine.
I started hiring Roman every week, and the more I got to know him, I fell hard.
Every week turned to every day. I was obsessed with unlocking his true character and personality. Each time I hired him, Roman would get less standoffish, his barriers coming down.
He started to lean into me, squeezing my hand, kissing my shoulder.
Cash didn't matter to me, I was barely emotionally conscious when I was entering my card details. Just like the app said, Roman did get closer to me.
Fast forward four months, and I was sitting on a park bench with his head sandwiched in my shoulder, cherry blossoms blooming above us. It felt real.
He felt real.
I can't describe my feelings, because I don't even understand them.
He was the first man I remember truly falling in love with.
When he kissed me, I stopped seeing him as a Boyfriend™️.
Roman was like no other guy I’d ever met. Before him, I couldn't remember having a clear mind. After him, everything made sense. My friends loved him, and I had slowly deluded myself into believing he was real. His true personality was friendly, a little clumsy but in an endearing way, and he made me laugh. The park was our place, and I enjoyed dozing in the sun with his face pressed into my shoulder.
There was just one problem.
Roman was still a Boyfriend™️ which meant he was off limits. The plastic tag sticking out of his right temple assured that. If that wasn't enough, the app sent me hourly reminders, warning me to not get too close. I did understand, it was for the guy’s privacy and safety.
But it's not like Roman wasn't being affectionate himself.
The app said zero touching, including kissing, sexual intercourse. He kissed me multiple times, his head correctly leaning into mine. I still wasn't sure if he was part of his obligation as a Boyfriend, but it was clear this guy was slowly steering away from the rules.
I couldn't resist prodding the tag. “Does this not bother you?”
Roman shrugged, pulling his legs to his chest. “Not really. I like the smell of it.”
“Smell?”
Rowan held out a hand with a small smile, catching cherry blossom on his palm. “Yeah. Doesn't it smell good?”
He was talking about the cherry blossom.
Something about the way he immediately dismissed the tag put a sour taste in my mouth.
“No, the thing sticking out of your head,” I said with a nervous laugh.
Roman blinked, his lips breaking out into a smile. “I'm glad we both like it.”
Maybe he wasn't allowed to acknowledge the tag.
Ignoring my twisting gut, I focused on the sunset instead, blurred reds and oranges streaked across a twilight sky.
It was slowly starting to sink in that Roman was not mine.
“I love you,” he said in a low murmur.
Something warm dampened the sleeve of my shirt.
Was he crying?
For a moment, my words were tangled in my throat.
“I think I love you too.” I said, my cheeks heating up.
“Mm.” he sighed, and I was trying to ignore how wet my sleeve was getting. “I told you I would come back,” he snuggled into my shoulder, and that wetness was dripping down the bare skin of my arm. When he nestled his face in my neck, I smelled it, a tangy, metallic scent tickling the back of my nose.
Blood.
Twisting my head, my right sleeve was drenched with startling red.
My neck felt sticky, blood smearing my shoulder blade.
Roman was bleeding. I thought it was a nosebleed when I glimpsed his nose and lips and chin dripping red, but it was leaking from his ears too, rivulets of blood seeping from him, while the guy himself didn't move, still smiling, his head leaning on my shoulder. When my body remembered how to move, I jerked away with a shriek, but Roman stayed in the same position, his head tilted.
“I came back for you,” a wide smile spread across his lips, blood dribbling down his chin. “And our baby.”
I didn't respond, pulling out my phone to call an ambulance.
“Are you happy I came back?” he whispered. I was transfixed by the blood running down his face. His head jolted suddenly, his smile dampening, before curving into a frown. The man's eyes were suddenly so sad, wandering, like he was searching for something.
Someone.
“I changed my m-mind,” Roman’s head jerked again, drool slipping down his chin. “I w-want to be a dad, Sara.”
Roman’s words jolted something inside me, a shiver slipping down my spine.
I dropped my phone, using my sleeves to stop the bleeding. Grabbing his face, I forced him to look at me. “Hey. Look at me.” The bleeding was letting up a little. But it was his eyes that held me in a trance. I fell in love with beautiful, almost unnatural brown. What I was seeing was green, a smear of lime slowly seeping into that tawny oblivion.
“Roman.” I said, louder. “Who is Sara?”
His expression crumpled, like he was crying, a whole new personality taking over.
But he wasn't looking at me.
Roman was looking right through me.
“I love you,” his voice broke, “But I also love him. I'm not ready for a baby! I'm twenty three! What twenty three year old wants to settle down with a little brat?” His eyes widened, expression softening. “I didn't…I didn't mean that.”
I was talking to a memory.
“I love both of you. And I want to… I want to make a family with both of you,” he shook his head. “But not now, Sara.”
Sara.
There was that name again.
“Sara.” I said. “Can you tell me who that is?”
The man's gaze snapped to me. “Sara,” he whispered. “She's my girl…” his head jerked again, this time violently.
“Girl… friend?”
Roman frowned. “She's my girlfriend,” he mumbled. “I was going to go… back. But I… I couldn't… find her…”
His hands dropped limply to his sides.
“I looked for her. But they… grabbed me.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “They took me… away.”
When his whole body shuddered, eyes rolling back, I couldn't help myself, reaching forward with trembling hands and plucking the piece of plastic from his temple. It was like pulling a tag out of a toy. But it kept going, a long plastic thing feeding directly into his head.
It was like pulling a tag out of a toy.
This thing was a long coil of wire stained red, a metallic plate attached to the end.
Biting back a shriek, I dropped the tag, my fingers slick crimson.
This thing was embedded, fed, directly into this guy’s head.
Like a switch had been pulled, Roman’s arms fell to his sides. “Sara.” he said through a mouthful of red. “She's my… she's m-my…” he trailed off and blinked slowly. His gaze found my hand, where I was gingerly stroking his temple. Roman jumped up suddenly, his eyes frenzied, awake, like a startled animal. “What the fuck?” he shuffled away like I was contagious, diving to unsteady feet.
So, this was Roman.
“Who are you?” he swiped at his bloody chin. “Where's Sara?”
When I couldn't reply, his fingers gingerly stroked at his right temple.
“Fuck.” Roman let out a sharp breath. “You actually got that thing out.”
I was shaking, still holding it between my fingers.
This thing was warm, thrumming, like it was alive.
“And what is it?” I managed to get out. “That thing was inside your head!”
Roman curled his lip, his gaze wandering the park.
“Where's the exit?”
“What?!”
He grabbed me, harshly this time, pulling me to my feet. I was still trying to mentally register the tag feeding into his brain. This guy was not the man I hired, violently pulling me to his side when I could barely stand. His eyes were fierce, hollow, a whole other person taking over him. He was the shadow that had been pushed down, a suppressed memory who was awake.
And pissed.
“We need to get out of here right fucking now,” he said in a hiss. His fingernails stabbing into my skin hurt, but the pain was enough to snap me into fruition.
“That app.” I said. “What is it?”
Roman’s eyes darkened. “It's a factory,” he tightened his grip around my wrist.
“Can you help me find my girlfriend? I'll tell you everything, but we need–”
“Miss Doe, am I correct?”
The sudden voice caught me off guard.
Roman looked confused, his gaze flicking behind me.
Fuck. His lips formed the word and he stumbled back, his hand slipping from mine. Behind us, an outline of a woman slowly bled into the shadows.
“You.” Roman’s lips parted in a silent cry. He shook his head, clawing at his hair. The guy let out a spluttered sob, a thin line of blood escaping his nose.
“You're the bitch who did this to me.”
The outline inclined her head. “I know you have the memory of a goldfish, dear boy, but if I remember correctly, you were recommended to us. I even have your consent if you require proof.”
His eyes were wide. Terrified.
“You make us sign it! We don't have a fucking choice!”
“That's a rule break. Boyfriend's do not swear, unless it part of a joke and has been given full content by our clients.”
The woman appeared, no longer a disembodied voice, basking in the shadow of the setting sun, rich red hair and matching heels. She was my age or a little older. Sculpted in a black suit, this woman was oozing sophistication.
She turned to me with a bright smile.
“Hello Jane! My name is Lily. I'm a customer adviser at Hire a Boyfriend. I am so sorry for the malfunction!”
Tilting her head, Lily’s lips formed a frown.
“As we explained in our terms and conditions, the Boyfriend™️ does not usually act like this unless considered faulty. However, it is expected from a discounted model like Roman. He is scheduled to be refurbished in a week, so we'll happily take him off your hands.”
“No.” Roman whimpered. His gaze flashed to me. “Please… help me.”
His head jolted once again, and he dropped to his knees.
“That is also a rule break,” Lily said. “You never directly tell clients what to do.”
Roman’s body shook, his head jerking left to right.
“Get away from me.”
“You are broken, Roman. Allow me to fix you.”
His eyes filled with tears. “Broken?”
“That's right. Broken.”
“Sara.” Roman swiped blood from his nose. “Is she okay? Is she… s-safe?”
The woman regarded him with a pitiful smile.
“I'm sorry, who?”
Roman blinked. “Sara.” his expression crumpled. “She's my…she's m-m-my–”
Lily stepped towards him, and he shrunk back.
The sound of her heels frightened him, like he was used to them.
Used to her looming over him, a satisfied smile on her face.
“She's your what? Come on, speak up!”
He let out a raw cry, clawing at his hair.
“I don't know! I d-don't know! I…”
“Come quietly, and I will rethink my decision to convert Sara’s child when once of age,” Lily said. “The contract was clear. Section five, clause three. Hire a Boyfriend are automatically entitled to a Boyfriend’s offspring.”
Roman broke down, his head dropping into his lap.
“I'll go w-with you.” somehow, his eyes were glitching, unnatural blue light igniting around his iris. “I'll g-g-go.”
More blood, this time running thick down his face.
Lily’s lips split into a grin. “I'm sorry Roman, who is Sara again?”
He scrunched up his face, fighting to keep his mind. “I… d-d-don't know.”
I hated myself for turning away, after listening to him sobbing, begging for his unborn child to be safe, his mind torn from him right in front of me. I felt sick to my stomach. Lily was revelling in every second. Was this the reality of Hire a Boyfriend? What about Cam?
Who was behind his original face?
I should have done something. I stepped forward to grasp him and pull him back. When my hands were on his shoulders, the light fizzled from Roman’s eyes, sparks flickering out.
Like a puppet, he flopped to the ground.
In a panic, I tried to pull him to his feet, before I was violently shoved back.
The redhead nodded to me. “I apologise again for the malfunction, Jane,” she told me, scooping him into her arms.
He looked so vulnerable, a fully grown man somehow reduced to a living toy.
Lily bid me goodbye, promising me discount on my next Boyfriend™️.
I thought about that day a lot. I went to the cops with a report, only for them to tell me Hire a Boyfriend did not exist.
Apparently, I had been watching too many movies.
Two months passed by, and Roman never left my mind.
In an attempt to forget about him and delude myself into believing I was suffering a psychotic break, I lost myself in podcasts. Anything I could find, I listened to endless hours, blocking out thoughts drowning me.
Yesterday, I was making my way back home from class when I walked into a dishevelled looking girl with an armful of missing posters. I already knew who she was, and who was on the poster.
I was trying to avoid her, but this girl was following me. I could sense her steps getting closer, her breath on the back of my neck. Grief enveloped her in a sickly green aura, pale cheeks and straw-like hair stuck under her hooded sweatshirt. This time, the girl situated herself in front of me, red rimmed eyes begging me to stop walking.
I did, coming to an abrupt stop, my gaze immediately flicking to a very familiar face on the missing poster.
Unlike Roman, my Boyfriend™️, this man did have flaws.
Crooked teeth flashing a grin and an oddly shaped nose. He was stockier and had the worst fashion sense imaginable, clad in socks and sandles. This time, though, the boy had a different name.
Jun.
The photo was always different, what I guessed was a collection from her Instagram. This one was particularly heart wrenching. Roman’s eyes were bright and happy, no sign of that hollow cavern I found myself lost inside. The two of them were standing in front of a mirror, his arms wrapped around her.
Whatever happened to him after he was taken had stripped Jun away.
The girl shoved the poster in my face.
HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN?
JUN LOCKE.
24.
LAST SEEN WEARING A PLAID SHIRT AND JEANS, OUTSIDE CAMPUS.
I didn't look at the face that had been perfected and moulded into the ideal boyfriend.
Into Roman.
I stared at the girl’s bulging pregnant belly instead.
Sara was getting bigger.
“Please,” She whispered, her voice a hoarse cry, one hand cradling her stomach. “Have you seen my boyfriend?”
It was always a no.
Swallowing hard, I shook my head.
Sara didn't even acknowledge my answer. She turned and walked away.
“Wait.” her name tangled in my mouth.
I felt like I was floating, my body moving for me. Stumbling after Sara, I lightly touched her arm and she twisted around, her eyes igniting with hope.
Opening my mouth, I choked on my words.
I have seen your boyfriend.
“Jane Doe! Oh my God, I haven't seen you in… years, is it? How are you doing?”
Sara’s half lidded eyes flicked to a familiar face behind me.
Lily.
This time, the woman strutted in a stylish red dress.
Her smile was too wide, too many teeth.
“Jane, can we talk?” she asked, “Woman to woman.”
Lily nodded at Sara’s belly. “Congratulations!” she winked. “I hope it's a boy!”
I had no choice, letting her pull me away from Sara.
Lily’s grasp on my arm was polite. She dragged me off campus. I thought she was going to throw me into a truck, before the redhead came to a stop.
I tried to pull away, but her grip tightened.
“It is quite painful, you know,” she said casually.
When I frowned at her, the woman prodded at her own temple. “The Neurowire is fed directly into the brain to ensure complete compliance with our Boyfriend's.” her gaze was across the road, and when I followed her eye, my heart almost jumped out of my throat.
Roman.
They had cut his hair. He was a sandy blonde now.
His colour scheme was deep blue, sporting a short sleeved shirt and jeans.
He was laughing, hand in hand with another girl.
“I'm only going to say this once, Jane, because you are a little too curious.”
I watched Roman reach for the girl’s hand. They must have changed his personality. Now he was smiling and playful, the two of them laughing. But there was a shy side to him, his cheeks blossoming red, fingers slipping through her fingers and entangling them.
“There are certain men in our society who are born to be Boyfriend's and Husbands.” Lily spoke up, and I realized she didn't just work for them.
She was Hire a Boyfriend.
“At Hire a Boyfriend, we believe everyone should have a significant other they can be with. Even if it's for an hour or two every day.” she turned to Roman, who was wrapping his arms around the girl, laughing into her hair.
The two of them seemed too close. I had a feeling this wasn't their first date.
Lily followed my gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Do you really think a man like that belongs with someone like Sara? No, sweetie. As you can see, Roman is currently being hired by Lula, our richest client, a socialite who is considering buying him as a full time Husband! Now, she is perfect for him.”
The redhead turned to me, lightly brushing my hair out of my face, the tips of her fingers tiptoeing across my temple. She had a smile I couldn't make sense of. “I have missed you, Jane. If only dear Ben didn't get his own way.”
She tried to touch me again, and I smacked her hand away.
I caught a hint of hurt in her eyes, before she sighed, grasping my chin with manicured nails and forcing me to look directly at her. “Sara is a woman who's boyfriend left her. She does not need any more stress for our baby.”
Dropping her hand, Lily’s tone hardened. “If you do not walk away and forget us, I will happily contract dear Sara into the Hire a Girlfriend program. And trust me, you of all people should know that it will be a very uncomfortable time for her. Would you like to know the conversion process? Well, allow me to explain–”
“Stop.”
My legs were close to giving way.
“I won't say anything.”
The bitch enjoyed my silence, my panicking thoughts trying to understand what she was saying. “Or we could make her a wife! There are a lot of lonely men looking for the perfect wife! Look at her. A young woman in her early twenties. Perfectly healthy and beautiful. And she's pregnant, so that's a bonus! Sara Mcintire is textbook girl next door. Exactly what we look for.”
Shaking my head, I was trembling, sweat trickling down my neck.
Lily's nails dug into my skin. “Am I clear, Jane? Or do you want me to say it again?” her lips grazed my ear, a shiver skittering down my spine, bugs filling my mouth. “Pain is beauty, after all, and we aim to create perfect Boyfriend's. I'll leave the process to your imagination.”
Stepping back, I nodded, swallowing a bout of vomit.
“Good.” she pivoted on her heel. “Keep walking and you will never see me again. Neither will pretty little Sara.”
Her voice followed me home.
“By the way, it was nice to see you again! Say hello to your boyfriend for me, all right?”
I don't have a boyfriend.
When I returned home, I felt like I was stepping inside a different apartment.
Everything seemed just like how I left it but the house was too… clean.
Too empty.
Standing in front of my bedroom mirror, I pulled out my ponytail, my fingers lightly prodding at my temple.
What did she call me again?
Jane Doe.
Maybe I was seeing things, but I'm terrified.
There it was.
How had I never seen it before?
With shaky fingers, I prodded the tiny plastic tag sticking out of me.
When I pulled it out of Roman, he knew who he was.
Who Sara was, and his unborn child.
Am/was I like Roman?
Am I a Hire a Girlfriend?
And if I pull this thing out, who was I before?
Edit: I've found hundreds of blood stained and fresh tags in my bedroom drawer. Who is changing them?
I live alone, but why does my apartment feel so empty?
Please help me. I think I'm going crazy.

I (34M) am in a nearly 7-year relationship with my (27F) girlfriend. For the vast majority of the nearly 7 years we’ve been together – I’ve felt satisfied and loved. I felt she was the one I was going to marry and start a family with.
However whenever I raise the topic of potentially getting married – she shuts down and manages to change the topic to something else. She’ll say things along the lines of “what difference does being married make? We’re common-law as it is, and I only want to get married once.”
Over the last couple years I’ve begun feel I am becoming a shell of who I was when my girlfriend and I met. When we met I would dress well, and put effort into my appearance. I would take us on small trips to the big city for a weekend. Go to a show. Over the years she’d make comments about my “overdressing” and I find myself no longer ever dressing in the way I would when we met. I now dress in a very… dad fashion.
I feel like I’ve compromised so much of myself to fit into the mold she would like me to fit into – but when I do change to meet her wants, it’s as if it’s not enough for her.
On the one hand she’ll accuse me of not contributing enough around the house, or planning vacations – yet when I do these things – it’s not to her standard and she’ll exhale and make back-handed comments at me. I’ve heard the “you always… xyz” from her quite often.
I feel no matter what I do it doesn’t meet whatever standard she has. Be that housework, grocery purchases, laundry – you name it. I feel scared to do anything for fear of her negative comment on whatever it is. I don’t fold the laundry well enough, I spent too much on something at the grocery store, I use too many paper towels when cleaning. I feel all these chipping away at me to the point I find I no longer try to do much. Why bother when it’ll be criticized no matter what?
My girlfriend had told me a couple times that I am too predictable (I took this as “you’re getting too boring”) – so I went ahead and planned an impromptu night-out as I would do earlier in our relationship. Rather than like it – she commented that I didn’t plan it very well given the traffic during rush hour to get to where we were going.
If I’m honest with myself I feel emasculated in my own home. I know the age-old joke that the woman in any relationship runs the show – however I feel both useless and cowardly at the same time so often around her. Happy wife, miserable husband feels like it fits with us – only we’re not married.
The question you’re asking yourself reading this is – have you told her these feelings?
The answer is yes.
We’ve had a number of conversations around this. I’ve told her I feel nervous to express myself around her for fear of her reaction. I’ve told her that I feel it’s becoming harder and harder for me to gauge her reaction to anything.
I know I’m not feeling great about our relationship given I’m writing this on Reddit. And I know I’m not feeling great about our relationship given I find myself looking at other women more and more.
I find myself not shutting down flirting with women all of the sudden, and I went on a sudo-first date with someone from my office the other day. After it, I told this girl I didn’t feel the spark – so I would avoid taking it any further because hey – I’m in a relationship.
The question I’m asking now is whether I should keep going and try to salvage our relationship or not.
Deep down I think I need to break it off. I wouldn’t recognize myself today if I were to leap forward in time from 7 years ago.
I no longer have the confidence I did then in nearly every aspect of my life, and much of that comes down to being beat down in my relationship. If I feel like this after 7 years – I can’t imagine what it’ll feel like in another 10, 20 or 30 years.
I want to know if others who may have felt this way in a relationship have worked-on and saved their relationship?

Came home from work to find my front door with a huge hole in it. First I thought a burglar broke into my home, so I was scared to go in. Through all the thoughts of all my belongings getting stolen, losing my important identity documents and someone possibly waiting in my apartment to kill me, I managed to call the landlord, garda, tried to get in touch with neighbours and nothing came out of it.
Finally, I met a nice neighbour lady outside with whom I got into the apartment. Thankfully no one was there and nothing got stolen, then she told me she recalled seeing the fire brigade outside earlier today.
So I called the fire brigade and they told me they broke in for a false alarm.
They left exactly 0 notes to tell me "hey, don't get scared when you see your front door destroyed, it was just us". The door remained completely unlocked & busted and anyone could have entered to steal my stuff.
Now, I want to know if breaking the door was justified. One of my immediate neighbours told me they saw them go up the stairs to my apartment, while all the alarms in the building were off (so he doesn't recall an alarm in my apartment specifically was off) and the firefighters smelled gas from the door?? Even though the whole building is electric only.
Needless to say there is no smell in my apartment of any smoke or anything. The fire alarm was changed 2-3 months ago so I have no idea why it set off if it ever was. My immediate neighbours did not call the fire brigade and the others (above/below my floor) do not answer.
And how did the garda help? In no way. When I called them to urgently come here because there might be a burglar in my home, they told me that there is no one who can help me now and I should wait until they find someone available.

My partner of a few years went through a pretty huge wave of life events about a year and a half ago. I wish I could say that we weathered the storm together and we’re able to mutually support each other through the troubles, but truth be told we pretty much self-destructed. My life was stable apart from the direct effects of having a partner whose life was in turmoil, and did I try my best to support her. I drove 11 hours at a stretch each way to see her on short notice, I booked plane tickets when that wasn’t possible. I took time off work during important projects, I negotiated remote work when I maxed out my PTO. I used all my sick time to look after her when she was ill. It was without a doubt the most I’ve ever done for a partner to try and help them when times were tough.
Through all this, though, she changed. She was irritable, unhappy with all of my efforts and even more unhappy when they fell short. I found myself across state lines, bank account drained, boss warning me about my performance, with her railing into me about how low-effort I am and how I had ruined her weekend and made a special event worse off for it. When we weren’t physically together, it was a new fight every week that revolved around a new way I wasn’t measuring up. In time, she admitted that she viewed me as the enemy, someone who was there to be attacked and made to be punished. I put up with this out of hope that the good times would return for more than a year, and they never did. Not while I was willing to stay.
After a long enough time of bottling up my frustrations, I let it out that I was sick of this treatment, I was done asking to be treated like an equal, and I was ready to finally leave. Unfortunately, I still had enough heart strings left to pull that she was able to get me to agree to a month extension just to show that she could change and, to her credit, that’s what she did. One month turned into 2 and 2 into 3, and now we’re continuing with a vacation that we had previously planned out. I’m finding though, that she’s starting to slide back on some topics that I admittedly know are hot-button issues for her. She’s yelled at me again and, though she immediately corrected herself once I pointed it out, I find that I just have no forgiveness left in me for her. I find myself gritting my teeth when she asks to do nice couple’s activities. I find myself wishing that she’d just blow up on me again so I can tell her that I’m finally leaving with no recourse. I’ve always had the issue of staying in relationships past the point where I was no longer happy, and now again I see it happening right in front of me. I can’t leave until I’m pushed away, and I know she’s actively trying to avoid that.
This vacation is such a big drain on me, financially, time-wise, and opportunity-wise. I’m running out of cash from so many trips to see each other. I have dear friends whose events I’m missing because this month is so jam-packed with birthdays and life events. I’m not even expecting to enjoy this vacation, I’m just wondering when the axe will drop and we’ll end up sleeping separately in the same hotel room. Things are already in motion for now, but I’m trying to summon the strength to break things off as soon as I can muster the strength. This post is in some way my first attempt at that as I haven’t even let my friends in on my current situation.

May 30th, 2017 - I had no idea this would be my last Tom Petty concert that night. 🎸💔 That night; a storm came in unexpectedly. They finished the song and were advised by the team to stop. I remember him telling us all, we’re going to take a short break for the storm to pass …. Then someone off mic 🎤 on the side of the stage left (to him) our right side said “something” and then he asked the guy, “ should the eat?” (And that was on 🎤 mic)
Now it may sound like nothing, but if you heard his voice; it was like a father and grandfather caring about his kids. I exaggerate this zero percent! I will never forget it. It’s a fond memory and for me , it’s up there with the music 🎶 because it comes from the same source. He’s going to listen to heart! ♥️ i love you and thank you Mr. Tom Petty

Hi all!
There are a few important + misc. community updates the mod team would like to bring to your attention today, some of which are detailed below while others will follow shortly in a separate post.
Before we get into any of that, we’d like to quickly mention that we are currently seeking moderators for this subreddit — preferably at least 3 or 4 (ideally more). If you’re interested in volunteering for the job, we’d love to hear from you. Replies here or via modmail, all ok, thanks!
For the record, both u/Shiff28 and I will be stepping down as mods once the new mods have settled in, but if you have any questions about modship, please don’t hesitate to ask.
And now, without further ado, a few updates (the most important of which is the last point on Rule 5 so if you read nothing else, please at least make sure you read that one):

New Flair: Outdated Info

With so many changes being made to the game lately, we thought it prudent to add a flair for Outdated Info. Any post that has this flair should be referenced with caution as the information within would either be outdated or significantly changed.
Please note that this is currently being applied to just key posts that are referenced often, such as guides, resources, and item trees, and not every single post that could contain outdated info or advice.
This is also set as a mod-only flair, so if you’ve written a post in the past that you’d like to be marked as outdated, please send modmail or tag a mod in the post.

Discord Server

We’ve been asked to highlight this so just a quick note in case y’all aren’t aware or aren’t able to see this in the community links — there is a Travel Town Discord server, helpfully set up by u/Maqya some time ago. Join up if you’d like to chat with fellow Travel Towners. :)

Modmail vs Private Messages/Chats

This is just a friendly reminder that if anyone has sub-related matters to discuss or requests for the mods, please use modmail rather than chat or private messages.
Sub-related messages made via chat from now on will be forwarded and replied to through modmail instead.

Rules Update + Upcoming Rule Discussions

The rules for TravelTown have been updated so please take the time to read through them. Feedback is, as always, welcome. If there is anything you find unclear or if you have suggestions, do let us know.
Note: Rule 6 will be brought up to the sub for discussion so please treat this rule as “pending update” until further notice.
This brings us to the updated Rule 5 and the most important issue we’d like to elaborate on in this post. As Rule 6 is closely related to the topic at hand, a discussion post for community input on the status of Rule 6 will follow later today.

On Rule 5: harassment and policing content

There has been an ongoing and increasingly worrying issue where people are being “warned” or asked by certain members of this sub to delete their posts/comments or not share some game strategies, specifically ones that mention advantageous loopholes or play styles in Travel Town — the reason being that the developers may read about them here and fix them.
While we understand the viewpoint of not wanting loopholes to be fixed, we are saddened and troubled by many of the incidents that have been brought to our attention. As a lot of this is happening via private messages, we do not know the exact extent of this issue but we’re aware that it has occurred frequently, both from the number of deleted posts/comments in the sub as well as feedback from members of the community who have been subjected to these requests, politely or otherwise.
Please know that this is a topic that has been looked into extensively and deliberated in great depth in the recent months, particularly what we can do as mods for this community. After much consideration, we feel that regardless where one may stand on the issue of whether game loopholes should be shared publicly on the sub or not, pressuring members to delete their content (directly or indirectly) should not be the approach.
Many of these people were either confused and asking for help or were only trying to share some tips with the community, just as they have learned from others here. They do not deserve to be subjected to any harassment or made to feel bad about their post. Words such as “abuse” and “hate” have even been used to describe the backlash some of them have received.
This may not be the case for every occurrence, but there is a need to point out that even politely worded requests or warnings can be problematic. There have been cases of people who have chosen to delete their posts just to avoid causing trouble or stepping on anyone’s toes, fearing escalation and retaliation if they don’t, even when they were asked nicely. Some have chosen to quietly leave the community entirely, while others have expressed hesitation in posting about any game strategies and discussions.
None of the above is acceptable.
Again, this is not a wide-sweeping generalization that every single occurrence is a problem. But there is more than enough of it that is. Much of the behavior we’ve seen and heard is tantamount to fear-mongering at best and bullying at worst. Not only is this something we cannot stand behind, it’s also against Reddit site rules and grounds for a ban.
Therefore, it is our hope that the community can understand and support the amendments we’ve made to Rule 5 as follows:
Rule 5 — Do not abuse reports or police content that isn’t against sub rules.
Do report spam and posts that aren’t allowed in this sub. Don’t report a post or comment just because you don’t like it or they’ve disagreed with you.
If you have issues with a post for other reasons, please send a modmail with your concerns and a course of action can be brought up for discussion.
Do not, however, comment or DM someone to remove their post/comment if no rules have been broken. Comments made to curb content, even politely worded, will be removed.
Going forward, any such behavior will no longer be tolerated and may lead to a ban from the sub.
If there are posts or comments that break the rules of the sub, they should be reported and the mods will review and remove them accordingly. However, if no such rule exists, please refrain from attempting to circumvent a mod’s decision by approaching the OP directly. And if there are concerns about allowing certain topics on the sub, it should be raised to the moderators via modmail and brought up for discussion on whether a rule amendment is needed.
We can’t dictate what you do in DMs, but please note that as per Reddit’s sitewide rules, behaving in any way that would discourage someone from participating on Reddit or encouraging others to do the same is considered harassment and bullying. Likewise, attempting to manipulate content in a community is against Reddit’s content policy.
If anyone is subjected to this behavior or continues to receive comments or DMs to delete their posts/comments, please don’t hesitate to inform the moderators or make a report to Reddit Admins. There are report buttons in chat that will go directly to the Admins, as well as the option to block someone from interacting with you. If you have any concerns at all, please do reach out.
That said, we acknowledge and understand that this problem is two-fold. In order for Rule 5 to be effective, the community must come to a consensus on what types of content should or shouldn’t be allowed in this sub. Later today, we’ll be putting up a post for the community to discuss this and decide together what should go under Rule 6. We hope to see you there!
Thank you,
The Mod Team of TravelTown, u/sevencups & u/Shiff28

I (19F) am a college student. A few weeks before this last semester ended before summer break I met this guy (21M). We only had about 2 weeks left but spent a lot of time together in those 2 weeks and got along pretty well. We decided to keep texting over the summer.
I knew I wouldn’t see him at all really since he would be out of the state and busy pretty much all summer. We started texting multiple times a day and conversations were good and fun for several weeks even when we were both busy. He would sometimes like my social media stories, tell me he missed me, send voice memos, and still texted often. The last week or two he just didn’t really ask about me and the conversation was good, but it started to feel like i was interviewing him. I keep switching between thoughts of “well maybe he’s not as interested in me as i’d hope, am i projecting my feelings on him, shouldn’t he be asking more about what i’m doing rather than just me asking him all the time” to thoughts of “well maybe he just expects me to talk about my day, that might just be more his text style, he still texts me pretty often and makes the effort.” It started to feel a bit like he may like talking to someone more than he likes me specifically.
Either way i think i’m still somewhat burned from previous relationships and i think i reacted poorly to my overthinking. The last few days he was texting a little less often, not asking about how i was doing at all, and really just talking about how fun going out with friends was and he started talking about this historical place he and his friends went to go see. I would give a vague response, leaving him room to change the topic or ask about me and he just didn’t. I would either just ask a simple question about the museum or say something kinda bitchy tbh like “oh nice!” And leave it at that even though i’m very much a yapper over text. After about two days of that and him just responding like “yeah it was massive” “the museum was so cool” and me giving vague responses he just ended up liking my last message and leaving it at that.
I’m starting to feel bad, like i really might have been overthinking it. I also do wish he cared more to ask about my day or how i was doing rather than just end it there. Idk, either way, what can i do to fix this? How can i fix it without being overly eager as we aren’t really in a committed relationship? Can i/should i even fix it? Should he be more interested in my wellbeing? I am clearly a bit of an overthinker so some help might be appreciated
TLDR: i’ve been texting a guy while we’re away from college over the summer and it started off really well but i may have overthought recent conversation and kind of let the texts die hoping he would take as much of an interest in my days as i did in his and now i feel bad and need help fixing my mess

my gf of 6 months broke up with me a week ago. I have never loved anymore more completely and wholeheartedly than I do her, and we'd talked about spending the rest of our lives together. less than a month into our relationship, she was in a situation where her coming to stay with me in my mother's house was the only/best housing option for her at the time and we lived in the same room sharing a twin bed for 3 months.
we got so close so fast as a result of the constant communication and understanding we strived for in our relationship because we didn't want to repeat unhealthy patterns of silence from our previous experiences. we always talked about how to best support and be there for each other, but after her father passed away while we were living together, she needed a lot of support despite being used to taking care of herself, and I easily let myself get completely lost in the purpose that gave me.
i was in such a bad mental place at the time, feeling like the formation of who I am had been halted due to all the energy i wanted to pour into our relationship and neglecting myself as a result, along with just barely getting by in college + my job. through the months, I never wanted to acknowledge that or admit it was a bad and unsustainable thing. i gladly clinged onto the purpose her grief gave me, a purpose to provide as much care and comfort and support for her as I could. but at the same time, she felt my reliance on her for that purpose. that a life with her was the only thing driving me towards the future. and when she suddenly had to move 3 hours away, I was completely shattered and didn't know what to do. i dragged along with school and we called and texted and spent time together online as much as we could because of the sudden change and disconnect. but I felt like I was stifling her, and she would ask for space. id give it as best I could.
she was doing bad mentally, being bipolar, dealing with new ptsd-related information, and not having a way to connect with people besides me in her new environment. she started frequenting a store nearby (it is now her workplace), where she would see an employee her age and she found her attractive and complimented her a few times before asking for her socials. we'd talked about polyamory before, though I made it clear that it wasn't an option long distance, but this one new person (I'll call them M) that she would get excited about worried me so much and put a lot of stress on me. I would communicate this but the insecurity I felt about the distance between us, her moving on without me, and M, she said I'd "ruined the first and only good thing" she has in her new environment. and we had multiple conversations about this. me apologizing, saying what I needed to feel more secure, saying what I'd do to improve and prevent making her feel bad about it.
after a talk a few days later with my friends, I impulsively set a boundary, saying I didn't want her to be friends with M. at the end of the day, she said it was okay, but the next day, going to work with M and not being able to talk to them--she felt bitter and angry. we called that night and she told me how, when I'd set the boundary, initially she called her sibling to talk about how she wanted to break up with me over it. how it felt like I chose my feelings of discomfort over her life, because this connection to M was such a huge thing for her life atm and her mental state.
we talked a lot on that call, but when I asked if she actually did want to break up, she said no. that it's likely the distance and constantly having to text and call to stay connected that's putting pressure on her, that she misses me so much, that she doesn't want to lose me, lose us. but that she needed space to process things about her dad, and we took a break over the weekend.
it hurts so much to be talking about this like it's a story that happened in the past. when she broke up with me, it was after a week of stressful conversations trying to find ways to fix how bad the distance made us feel. and in the end, she said that every time we had a serious conversation about things, she found herself fighting for it less. that it wasn't working, and that she also felt a lot of pressure from me depending on our relationship to feel okay. but she insisted she wanted us to stay in each other's lives, that after losing her dad, she would literally panic at the thought of losing someone she loves again, even if it meant just not talking anymore. we kept talking for a few days, about how we felt and the problems we had, but eventually decided to take a week off for us to try to process things and avoid the awkward and sad conversations we'd have.
but tomorrow that week is up. as soon as the break started, I had a feeling that I would not be able to be in her life immediately after this. id talk to my friends about how I can't see her as anything but the girl I love and want to spend the rest of my life with. that I want to keep talking problems through with and sharing good memories and making more. that I can't imagine watching her move on to love someone other than me. that it would completely shatter me again if I stayed in her life, thinking it would be fine, just to break again if I knew she was truly moving on. i'll have to tell her tomorrow that we can't be friends or keep talking. at least for a few months, maybe even more. because I know I can't heal with her still in my life, or while hoping that we'll eventually get back together. I'm dreading it so much and I can't stop replaying our relationship's story in my head--how cinematic and dramatized it was, how we fell in love--and imagining it be completely over and gone after tomorrow. I just can't imagine how ill go on.

Full article on topic: https://modating.substack.com/p/quick-guide-why-you-should-never
Going through a breakup sucks, and it’s difficult to move on as if nothing happened. However, you need to keep these points in mind if you ever have an urge to try to get back with your ex.

1. She made an overt choice to remove you from her life. Let that sink in. That’s a huge deal. It doesn’t matter about your supposed history, how good she looks, or how she made you feel. In this current moment, she made the momentous decision that she no longer needs to see you. I’m a firm believer that once a girl falls out of love with you, there’s no going back. It doesn’t matter if she was madly in love with you six months ago. Emotionally, men are far more connected to the past than women are. Women are very oriented to the present moment and place far greater value on how men make them feel presently.
   
2. You have to place how a woman treats and values you at the top of your priority list in relationships. As mentioned in the first point, men tend to focus on external factors—such as looks—and tend to disregard a woman’s enthusiasm for him when choosing a partner. That’s why they chase. You have draw a line in the sand at all stages of your dating life, from casual dating to serious relationships, that you will never give time and energy to those who don’t value you, or aren’t enthusiastic about you. Chasing NEVER works in the long term—you can have the greatest game in the world, but if a woman just fundamentally isn’t into you or doesn’t value you, it won’t last.
   
3. This doesn’t apply in all cases, but when women initiate a breakup, they usually have another guy in mind as your replacement. Their desire to be with the other guy is often the catalyst, even if cheating wasn’t involved. If you decide to “win” her back, keep in mind that you are likely playing second fiddle to another dude. She might entertain the “idea” of getting back with you if the guy she really wants to be with isn’t showing her attention, but ask yourself, do you really want to be someone’s back up?
   
4. Think of wasted time and opportunity. Our time on Earth is limited. Do you really want to forgo some potentially great relationships out there for something that didn’t work out the first time? Unless you cheated or fucked up, there’s no use in believing that something is going to be better the second time around. Even if the breakup was your fault, was it really that important to you to begin with if you chose to fuck around? Likely not.
   
5. Do you really miss them, or are you scared to be alone? Some people have a hard time being on their own. If you fall into that category, consider this a chance for some self-discovery and growth by being alone for a bit. Do some hard thinking about what your purpose in life is. Being on your own is freedom. Our society shames being single and pushes relationships, sex, and romance constantly through social media. I repeat, it’s OK to be on your own. It doesn’t mean you're defective. Embrace your additional time and freedom, and use it wisely. Also, don’t shy away from dating around, and gaining experience. If you’ve only dated a few people, you need to gain experience dating multiple women. You’ll learn about what you like, get sexual experience, and not be as prone to neediness when you get into your next relationship, because you’ll realize there are many women out there who want to be with you.
   
6. It’s not love— just a scarcity mindset. A lot of guys desperately want to win back an ex because they simply think they can’t do better, or even find anyone at all. This is the most destructive reason to get back with someone. And it’s illogical. Abundance is the dating world is real. There are roughly 3 billion women on the planet. Even if only .00001 percent found you attractive, that still means there are tens of thousands of women who would be interested in dating you. Yes, it’s a very broad example, but the numbers truly are on your side. You have to break out of any mindset that is convincing you that ONLY ONE woman on the planet will want you. It’s an illogical and absurd thing to believe.
   

TLDR: Nexver chase an ex. They made an overt choice not to be in your life. That’s a big decision. The way someone treats and prioritizes you should be a primary factor if you want to be with them. In some cases, they already had your replacement in mind. Don’t confuse loneliness/or scarcity with love.

Hello, and welcome to RepWeidianSneakers! Whether you’re a long-time member or someone new who just straggled in from one of the other replica subreddits, this recurring post will serve as an introduction to or reminder of the subreddit rules. This group runs in several key ways that may be different from other groups to ensure we maintain a high-quality group where well-informed replica buyers can engage in constructive conversation regarding the best batches for various shoes, batch flaws of popular and commonly purchased batches, and QC posts of new and old products alike.
Please do your best to stay up-to-date on the latest subreddit rules and cultural norms in order to make sure that your participation in the group is in accordance with how we run things here! All sub rules are visible along the side bar if on desktop, and under the "About" tab if on mobile. We appreciate your attention and diligence to subreddit policies, and hope you enjoy your time here!
The following rules will be outlined in the following ways:

1. Most Important Rule of the Sub
2. Post Formats (QC, Find, Help Me Find)
3. General Subreddit/Reddit-Wide Rules

Rule #1: Sneakers from Weidian, TaoBao only
This one should be self-explanatory - QCs for shoes purchased from overpriced middlemen are not allowed on this sub. I understand that many users value the input from members in this subreddit specifically due to their reputation and credibility, but we want to keep this sub as pure to its purpose as possible.
Additionally, when users ask for recommendations on where to purchase, make sure to provide links to Weidian or TaoBao stores, and not middlemen. Middlemen sell Weidian/TaoBao products at a markup for convenience, and sometimes by false batch names or identities - always focus on the actual product. Do not post your middlemen pairs asking for batch identification either, as that is not the purpose of this group.
As of June 2024, the group will allow direct shipping from known Weidian sellers from the community, as they are offering competitive prices. Please do not bring overpriced middlemen from other groups into this ecosystem, as it will be called out for all community members to see, in order to ensure that everyone gets the best prices possible for their purchases.
Rule #2: QC Post Title Guidelines: [QC] {Price in Yuan} {Batch} {Shoe Name} from {Seller Name} and Find Post Title Guidelines: [FIND] {Price in Yuan} {Batch} {Shoe Name} from {Seller Name}
When posting your QCs or Finds, use the following format: [QC] {Price in Yuan} {Batch} {Shoe Name} from {Seller Name} or [FIND] {Price in Yuan} {Batch} {Shoe Name} from {Seller Name}. Example: [QC] 400¥ FK Batch Travis Scott x Jordan 1 High OG Mocha from A GDJ Supplier
The Group Automod comments on every single post in this group with a reminder of this title format. If your title does not include each of the necessary components in the brackets above, please be proactive and repost with the correct format. If you don’t delete the post, a moderator will, and that or repeated infractions may result in a temporary ban from the group. This rule exists to ensure the group is easily searchable to help make researching batches on your own as streamlined as possible.
Please also ensure that you use the correct QC type, using the Agent flair for agent purchases, and the DIRECT flair for pairs purchased with direct shipping from Weidian sellers.
The automod may filter your post if the post title format is not followed. If your post is incorrectly filtered, it will be reviewed by a moderator and approved once they see it. Please be patient.
If you post with a title or caption asking if the pair you purchased is actually the batch you purchased, you must:

1. Include reasoning as to why you think it is possible that the shoe is not what was advertised. Acceptable reasoning includes specific characteristics of the shoe (leather cuts, wings logo placement, colors, etc) that differ from known pairs, different production dates from known pairs, sellers with recent history of bait and switch, etc. The most important part is to include some sort of reasoning. Posts without reasoning will be deleted, as these posts are typically made from newer members to the replica community, and the posts lead to unnecessary fearmongering and damage to seller reputations.

Rule #3: QC Posts need W2C Link:
If you are posting a QC, make sure to post the W2C link. If the listing link is dead, please post the link to the store where the shoe was purchased instead. No W2C link will result in the deletion of your post!
You are welcome to post Weidian links, TaoBao links, or links from any shipping agent.
Rule #4: Help Me Find Post Title Guidelines: [HELP ME FIND] {Shoe Name} + Picture of Shoe
If you are hunting for a certain pair, your post must fulfill 2 key criteria:

1. Your post title must include the Full Shoe Name and Colorway of the shoe in question. For example, Jordan 1 High Chicago, Dunk Low Kentucky, etc.
2. A picture of the shoe in question must be included in the post. This makes it easier for users to identify and help find the pairs.

If either of the two criteria above is missing, your post will be deleted. This rule exists to reduce the number of repetitive “Help Me Find” posts, as a user will be able to search previously posted “Help Me Find” posts for the shoe they want.
Example Title: [HELP ME FIND] Jordan 1 High Chicago
Rule #5: Find Post Title Guidelines: [FIND] {Price in Yuan} {Batch} {Shoe Name} from {Seller Name}
Okay, so you’re on WeChat, and a seller has posted a new product. You want to be the first one to post about it on Reddit, so you rush over and make the post. Great, pat yourself on the back. Just kidding. Don’t just stop there - put some thought into the post. How does this new find compare to other products on the market? Do they have potential? You don’t have to be an expert QCer, but give your general thoughts. In short, were these worth finding? The hope is that with this general subreddit policy, it will encourage people to post high-quality finds and reduce clutter from low-tier finds that don’t add much to the group.
Additionally, there has been an increase in posts from Seller Accounts and Redditors collaborating with sellers. This group does not exist to be a seller billboard or onslaught of promotional ads. If you repeatedly spam low-quality finds on the group, you will be banned. Sellers must message the moderator team prior to posting to ensure a mutually beneficial relationship between the subreddit and the sellers.
Rule #6: Be Respectful of One Another
Please be nice and courteous to one another. All rules of Reddiquette apply. Your membership in this subreddit is contingent upon your overall Reddit activity, not just limited to this subreddit. To put explicitly, this includes but is not limited to: harassing or disrespecting others in other subreddits, posting hate speech of any kind, or spreading misinformation. Any violation of this will result in the banning of your account and any alternate accounts you may be known to have!
Rule #7: No Cussing
In line with the previous rule, no cussing on the sub, please. Often, on the rep subs, the only time people are cussing is to insult one another, spread misinformation, or speak illy in general. For this reason, an AutoMod is in place that will regulate posts and comments on the sub. Your post/comment will be deleted and you will receive a message alerting you if this happens. Bonus: Mr. Frosty can't post or comment without some sort of explicit language, so this simple rule (and the accompanying AutoMod) keeps the sub safe
Rule #8: Support Your Statements with Evidence
Essentially, cite your source. Let's avoid being like other rep subs where people make up rumors or decide their opinions without any research or evidence.
If you comment saying a batch is the best or better than what has been posted, show us why. Link reference posts, rep vs retails, QCs, etc. Show, rather than tell, us why what you're saying is correct. If your statement is a good one, this shouldn't be difficult. As above, don't default to name calling if you can't support your statement. It is okay to have a well-informed opinion - it is not okay to have an uneducated opinion that you spread as fact.
If you run into issues with a member or members in the group that are not participating in this group norm, please tag a mod, and the situation will be handled accordingly.
If you are a member who is frequently participating in the group without doing the appropriate research, spreading objectively false information as shown from prior reference posts, or spreading newbie misconceptions even after being informed otherwise, you may be removed from the group. The spread of misinformation is not allowed in this group. This statement will be specifically referenced in your ban message if you are banned from the group, and ask why.
Rule #9: No Price Bashing Without Explanation
Price bashing comments without an explanation are not allowed in this group. If you are going to comment on a replica product that you believe is overpriced, include reasoning with an explanation, otherwise, you risk being permanently banned from the group. If there is a better or comparable batch, with an emphasis on comparable, drop the link. If you are simply going to complain about the price, please keep the unhelpful comment to yourself.
For people posting the pricier purchases, it may be helpful to leave a comment explaining why you chose to purchase that particular batch over others on the market. This typically helps dissuade lower-quality commenters as long as your reasoning is valid.
Rule #10: Discussion of Replica Packaging (boxes, tissue paper) or Passing Legit Check Apps is Frowned Upon
Discussion of replica packaging (boxes, tissue paper, shoe inserts) or asking if a shoe is able to pass Legit Checks/StockX/GOAT verification is frowned upon in the community. If you choose to wear replica products, that is your own choice. However, discussing topics that are IRRELEVANT to you wearing the shoe on your feet such as the above mentioned topics can result in a permanent ban from the group. There is no need for your replica to pass ACTUAL legit checks for you to wear them.
Rule #11: No User-to-User Selling Allowed
No user-to-user sales are allowed in the group. Do not attempt to sell your regretted purchases in the group. The group is not responsible for any sales done in the group between members against subreddit rules.
Rule #12: No Legit Checks
This is a group for replica sneakers purchased using agent avenues. This is not the place for legit checks or retail discussion outside of posting retail references.
Your Legit Check post will be deleted, and you will be temporarily banned from the group.
Rule #13: No Memes/"Fire Up the Rep Machines"/Interest Check Posts/WeChat Verification Posts
This group aims to be a research-focused subreddit. It prides itself on providing the most objective information possible. Please keep the memes or satire posts in other subs. This includes meme titles or captions such as "how fast do I need to walk" or "fire up the rep machines." These posts add little to no value and are often unoriginal anyway.
Any use of meme titles will result in a 14-day temp ban as previously announced, as will repeated infractions of posting other memes.
I understand that you may want your WeChat verified in order to communicate with sellers or see their WeChat Moments. Please utilize your own personal network to get your WeChat verified. If that fails and you have no other options, there are other subs for WeChat Verifications. Please do not make these posts here.
Your WeChat Verification request post will be deleted, and you will be temporarily banned from the group for 5 days.
Rule #14: Weidian Sellers - Reach out to the Moderator Team BEFORE Posting
As the group grows, more and more Weidian sellers would like to enter our community in order to interact with customers more closely. In order to ensure that each seller can provide useful content to the group, and not useless advertisements, please contact the moderator team through Mod Mail to discuss next steps. In your message, include the link to your Weidian store and your WeChat ID. Failure to do so will result in the permanent ban of your account and Weidian store from the group.
RepWeidianSneakers x Seller Cooperation Guidelines outlines all guidelines for sellers in this group to adhere to in order to interact with the community.
In short, you will be asked to:
- Avoid promotional ads that do not help the group learn more about a product. Posts that are allowed are replica vs retail comparisons, batch comparisons, stock information, and "New Find" posts for products that either: have not been posted yet or are cheaper in your store than the previously posted Find post.
- Collaborate with the moderator on popular posts or reviews that would benefit the group. The seller and the moderator will be in frequent communication regarding the needs of the group, and how the seller can be a positive member in the community.
- Host giveaways for the group are an option if sellers want to go above and beyond to gain the good spirits of community members.
- Sellers cannot make fake accounts to upvote their own posts, post fake QCs, or downvote other sellers. Sellers also cannot block community members that offer valid criticisms on their posts, such as commenting on low-quality or overpriced products. The moderator will handle these situations to ensure the actions done are fair on all sides. Making fake accounts will result in a permanent ban and blacklisting from the group. Do not do it.
Rule #15: No Seller Ads
Self-explanatory. This especially applies to lost middlemen posting their fake QCs to try to gain business. If you are a member and see this, please report the post. If a post receives enough reports, it is automatically removed and sent to the mod queue. This helps keep the group clean through community effort.
​
Lastly, this Group is Not Meant to Be a Direct Line to u/poncecatchemall
Please reference his guides and resources (to be updated in the near future) for answers to most commonly asked questions. He does not read chats asking repetitive questions, and mod mail is not meant to be used to ask specifically him questions, so do not use it for that purpose.
​
Thank you in advance to everyone for following the sub rules and for keeping this sub a great, high-quality sub to be a part of. If there are any rule addition recommendations, we are always open to suggestions.

I’ve been through this so many times with him. I left him about a month ago, initially he was cold but under the surface, very angry at me for leaving. At my last breaking point 7 months ago, he cried promising he’d go to therapy and that he understands he needs help. 7 months later nothing had changed and when I asked about it, he’d freak out saying that I was putting too much pressure on him. I couldn’t wait any longer with no changes so I left again and a month later he calls and texts in a crisis asking if it’s too late and he wants to go to couples counselling. A few weeks before I left he said he wouldn’t respect our relationship as much if we brought someone else into it. I keep trying to regulate and move on, accept what I can’t change but it’s like he only wants to work on things when I am exhausted and want to give up. Why does it have to be so hard like damn!!!!

Going through a breakup sucks, and it’s difficult to move on as if nothing happened. However, you need to keep these points in mind if you ever have an urge to try to get back with your ex.

1. She made an overt choice to remove you from her life. Let that sink in. That’s a huge deal. It doesn’t matter about your supposed history, how good she looks, or how she made you feel. In this current moment, she made the momentous decision that she no longer needs to see you. I’m a firm believer that once a girl falls out of love with you, there’s no going back. It doesn’t matter if she was madly in love with you six months ago. Emotionally, men are far more connected to the past than women are. Women are very oriented to the present moment and place far greater value on how men make them feel presently.
   
2. You have to place how a woman treats and values you at the top of your priority list in relationships. As mentioned in the first point, men tend to focus on external factors—such as looks—and tend to disregard a woman’s enthusiasm for him when choosing a partner. That’s why they chase. You have draw a line in the sand at all stages of your dating life, from casual dating to serious relationships, that you will never give time and energy to those who don’t value you, or aren’t enthusiastic about you. Chasing NEVER works in the long term—you can have the greatest game in the world, but if a woman just fundamentally isn’t into you or doesn’t value you, it won’t last.
   
3. This doesn’t apply in all cases, but when women initiate a breakup, they usually have another guy in mind as your replacement. Their desire to be with the other guy is often the catalyst, even if cheating wasn’t involved. If you decide to “win” her back, keep in mind that you are likely playing second fiddle to another dude. She might entertain the “idea” of getting back with you if the guy she really wants to be with isn’t showing her attention, but ask yourself, do you really want to be someone’s back up?
   
4. Think of wasted time and opportunity. Our time on Earth is limited. Do you really want to forgo some potentially great relationships out there for something that didn’t work out the first time? Unless you cheated or fucked up, there’s no use in believing that something is going to be better the second time around. Even if the breakup was your fault, was it really that important to you to begin with if you chose to fuck around? Likely not.
   
5. Do you really miss them, or are you scared to be alone? Some people have a hard time being on their own. If you fall into that category, consider this a chance for some self-discovery and growth by being alone for a bit. Do some hard thinking about what your purpose in life is. Being on your own is freedom. Our society shames being single and pushes relationships, sex, and romance constantly through social media. I repeat, it’s OK to be on your own. It doesn’t mean you're defective. Embrace your additional time and freedom, and use it wisely. Also, don’t shy away from dating around, and gaining experience. If you’ve only dated a few people, you need to gain experience dating multiple women. You’ll learn about what you like, get sexual experience, and not be as prone to neediness when you get into your next relationship, because you’ll realize there are many women out there who want to be with you.
   
6. It’s not love— just a scarcity mindset. A lot of guys desperately want to win back an ex because they simply think they can’t do better, or even find anyone at all. This is the most destructive reason to get back with someone. And it’s illogical. Abundance is the dating world is real. There are roughly 3 billion women on the planet. Even if only .00001 percent found you attractive, that still means there are tens of thousands of women who would be interested in dating you. Yes, it’s a very broad example, but the numbers truly are on your side. You have to break out of any mindset that is convincing you that ONLY ONE woman on the planet will want you. It’s an illogical and absurd thing to believe.
   

TLDR: Nexver chase an ex. They made an overt choice not to be in your life. That’s a big decision. The way someone treats and prioritizes you should be a primary factor if you want to be with them. In some cases, they already had your replacement in mind. Don’t confuse loneliness/or scarcity with love.
Full article on topic: https://modating.substack.com/p/quick-guide-why-you-should-never

Hey y'all, I'm a med student who likes to write, but don't have a ton of people around me who have the time/ability to provide a substantial critique. I write most things for myself, but this is the first time I've been playing with a longer project and would like to gauge impressions of my work and areas for improvement. If you think that sounds interesting, thank you so much for helping out. I'm a scientist at heart so I love ALL criticism. It fuels me. Don't be kind.
The goal was to make a down-to-earth fantasy which, with a very robust "magic" system based in cognitive science and global religions, juxtaposes nicely within the modern world.
Some things I'd be looking for:

• Notes on style, pacing, word usage. I think I can sound a little purple sometimes and I don't want to come off like I eat thesauruses.
• Overall impressions of work. Is it interesting? Would you want to read more? Does it feel cliche?
• Some line examples for improvement. I definitely don't want someone to burn their time on line-by-line edit (unless you want to), but if you're a good writer and have an example of a good improvement, I want to hear it!
• Thoughts while reading, questions, places of where you were confused.

Please send me a DM or drop a comment if you'd like to read the entire piece. I am also happy to swap.
:
: Chapter Opener
:

1. Crowley & Partners

A relic. A captive audience. Negotiation. Poison pill. Good business.
The urn was old. Impossibly old, with a simple shape suggestive of a primitive workmanship, yet crafted of lustrous ceramic interwoven with mottled bronze. Decades of abrasive sand had stripped its glaze, the colorful coating lost to time.
The urn radiated an energy usually reserved for living things. Onlookers couldn’t help but consider it as one would a tree or vine. Although inert, the feeling was of discrete complexity and purpose. The disconnect between perception and experience was off-putting.
The source, which resonated jarringly along the unbounded fields of conscious perception, had been trapped in the urn long ago by a desperate people who had long since paid the price for their hubris. The survivors among them didn’t have the ability to destroy what they’d created, so they hid their shame deep underground. If there was any justice in the world or sanctity of spirit, the urn should have been forgotten along with its people. But here it sat, reclaimed, on a glossy mahogany conference table. An anachronistic eyesore.
It was on this table that the Being stirred for the first time since the flood. It was a soul which belonged to the desert. A spirit whose purpose was to grace the slopes of dunes on moonless nights and whisper to souls softened by the heat. It was the subtle motions of fine sand which shaped massive drifts and the voice for the bones buried underneath them. It was a myth summoned into being by the belief of a billion consciousnesses, human and animal, evoked by the common oppression of blistering sun. And as the lid of the urn was lifted, the spirit exploded back into the world like the critical core of a collapsing star.
The urn remained where it was on the table, but now a naked form was crouched next to it. It had the shape of a man, but disfigured, as though recalled from a dream. It was difficult to focus on any part of it for long as its proportions were as hazy as the heat shimmer which emanated from its body. Its skin was clay-like and perfectly smooth, the tone coppery, as though painted, and had an orange glow which scattered diffusely under the surface. Its arms were long and thick, slightly elongated to its torso which was bulky and barrel chested. A hulking colossus of a silhouette. It appeared with its corded legs bent as if it was dropped onto the table from a height. Calmly and deliberately, it stood to an intimidating stature, entirely hairless and apparently unashamed. As it stood, its head should have easily broken through the ceiling but, in a disorienting display of warped perspective, was able to stand upright. It was impossible to put an upper limit on its height.
As it moved, its skin flowed over its body without visible stretch. In place of eyes were kaleidoscopic faces cut like jewels inset into its crude, barely-sculpted face. They remained fixed as it surveyed the room coldly with a slow turn of its head. The reflective orbs glittered with the bitterness of a painful existence, its gaze cruel and full of hatred. Ripping a spirit from the Bardo and forcing it into reality is to compress an ocean into a wine glass. To drink is a perversion of nature. And accessing it once again was an act of damnation.
Its gaze was met by seven people sitting at the other end of the conference table which stretched across the room. Five men in suits, plus one in a formal shirt, and a woman in a sleek blue dress. Each had a ringed binder dense with paper laying in front of them, with some also sporting yellow legal pads. There was a buffer of a few empty chairs on either side so that all parties could take each other in....
Please send me a DM or drop a comment if you'd like to read the entire piece. THANKS.

To make a long story short: My stepson moved in about 6 months ago after breaking up with his girlfriend of one year. During the breakup, he had threatened suic*de and was hospitalized because the ex girlfriend called the police. After he was "evaluated" at the mental health facility, they released him after about 6 hours. Mostly because we live 2 hours away, and his mother lives 19 hours away. Of course, I was the one who went to pick him up.
I am assuming because of the quick release after evaluation, and because after speaking with the mental health professional who treated him at that time (with my stepson's full consent), they were not worried of his trying to self harm and released him with a recommendation of finding a psychologist.
This situation led me to believe that he had used self harm as a manipulation in order to try to blackmail his ex into staying with him out of fear that he may self harm if she didn't.
Moving on, during his stay with us, he has continued to "stalk" her, to the point that she threatened to involve authorities if it continued. However, he somehow knows that she is dating someone new, and that she is taking pole dancing classes. Also, during the memorial day weekend, he traveled over an hour down to her area, we believe he had been spying on her.
His emotions go from completely depressed, crying and slobbering fits over this ex, even on dates with new women he's met on tinder, to completely content and happy. Until he doesn't get something he wants, or his mother or father don't get him something he wants right away. Then he's miserable.
There's also many times that he gets so angry and directs his fury towards other ethnicities. He's ranted to his mother about his jewish stepfather, saying horrible things I cannot repeat, but the gist is he wished it was 1940 again. Then we have a neighbor who he has a problem with because they won't trim the bush that's overgrowing into the street. So, he drew a picture of a dog, wrote "Mohammed" above it, left the drawing on the front seat of his car, then parked his car directly in front of my neighbors house, making it difficult for them to ignore. These neighbors are muslim.
He intentionally defies any boundaries in the house as well. If he doesn't agree with a "rule", he tells you it's stupid and then does whatever he wants.
I have tried to set boundaries, and have tried to have his father speak with him about such boundaries, but, his father is terrified that his son is suicidal and will not set boundaries for him.
Meanwhile, his father travels a lot for work. His son is a completely different person when his father is gone. He's rude, obnoxious and disrespectful to me when his father is here, but when his father is away, he tries to get me on his side and to be his friend again, being overly nice and trying to start conversations, etc.
He lies to almost everyone he meets about his direction in life. Telling everyone he is enrolled in college and that's why he doesn't work. Telling his prospective employers that he is working for our company as an "administrator", while never having had to work a day in our business. He tells them that he may need time off from work for college at times, which he's not yet going to college. He likes to paint a picture, if you will, of the person he wants them to think he is.
My problem is, I love his father, my fiance. I have been with him forever and know that he is a good man. He's being so manipulated by his son, and every time I have tried to talk to him about it, he gets upset with me because he truly believes his son is suic*dal. I am at my wits end at this point, as I have to just take a back seat and allow his son to do whatever he wants to do. I want to leave and I don't want to leave. I love my fiance, I just don't care for or even like his son.
Is there any way I can stay without feeling like I just want to blow up at the kid?

Author note: The Cryopod to Hell is a Reddit-exclusive story with over three years of editing and refining. As of this post, the total rewrite is 2,200,000+ words long! For more information, check out the link below:
What is the Cryopod to Hell?
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...................................
(Previous Part)
(Part 001)
In the immediate aftermath of his empowerment, Henry basks in the glow of adoration from his fellow Parahumans. A deep sense of satisfaction wells up in his chest after slaughtering the five Changelings who dared to infiltrate their solemn ceremony, and he looks at the Second Wordsmith with gratitude and profound respect. Without Hope Hiro, he would still be a mere civilian, doomed to live a life of mediocrity. All of that has changed now.
As for Hope, he pats Henry's blood-covered shoulder and smiles. "Well done, Henry. Anyone here could have killed those Changelings, but you were the first to react. Maybe you even managed to prevent them from leaking what happened here, too. I sure hope you did."
Henry grins. "Just doing my duty for the good of humanity, Commander."
Several soldiers nearby whoop and cheer as they slap Henry's back and congratulate him. But while they give the young man the credit he deserves, Hope has a few other people gather the bodies of the Changelings and lie them down, side to side. Despite the gruesome sights of their mangled corpses, Hope doesn't even blink. He's long become desensitized to such violent imagery.
"Scan. Examine." Hope says, sending Words of Power out to probe the corpses. "Hmm."
Henry pulls away from the crowd to walk over and crouch down beside his Commander. "Notice something, sir?"
"I haven't." Hope says. "That's the problem. Every inch of these people looks identical to the average human. You're... sure they were Volgrim Changelings, right? Like, you're one hundred percent sure? Because everything I'm seeing here indicates they're ordinary humans."
Henry nods seriously. "Without a doubt. When Jepthath connected to my mind, I could read the thoughts and sense the emotions of everyone around me. But not these five. Their minds were... void. When I probed deeper, I came into contact with words and thoughts that didn't feel human. It was like if I tried to describe to you how a slug experiences the world around it. Completely alien."
"So you could only tell because of Jepthath's power." Hope muses. "That poses a problem. I can't verify these are aliens at all. If they really are Changelings, their disguises are incredible. The blood is slightly discolored, so that might be worth looking into, but otherwise even their genetic makeup is identical to that of any human."
"I think you should examine their souls, sir." Henry suggests. "Or their brains. I'm telling you, they didn't think in the same way I did at all. It was almost frightening how weird their thought patterns were. I can't really put the experience into words."
Another man nearby nods. "I felt the same thing too, Commander. Lord Henry isn't lying."
"I know he isn't." Hope says with a smile, before raising an eyebrow. "Wait, 'Lord' Henry?"
"That is what the Sovereign has decreed all of us should call him by." The man says. "He is Jepthath's Champion. He possesses the same strength and power the Sovereign did when he walked the Earth. It's only fair to call him our Lord."
Hope looks at Henry. The young man doesn't physically appear any different from before. Compared to the roided-up Parahumans who also ascended, Henry appears the same as before, almost as if he didn't power up in the slightest.
"I want some of you to deliver these corpses to Neil in secret." Hope says to a nearby soldier. "I'll let him know you're coming ahead of time. Don't tell anyone these are Changelings. Just say they were training casualties."
"Yes sir!" The soldier says, before gathering a few other people to cover the bodies and drag them away.
As the crowd disperses to discuss the day's events, Hope slaps Henry's back. "Come with me."
He and Henry stand up, then they exit the church and head deep into the woods. After walking for a couple of kilometers, Hope cracks his neck, then turns to face Henry.
"We'll spar here."
Henry blinks. "Sir?"
"My body is augmented." Hope says mildly. "Due to an accident six years ago, billions of nanites ended up embedded under my skin. Over time, they're merged with my biological makeup and enhanced me in lots of different ways. My bones are durable, my mind is quicker, even my blood pumps a little faster."
Hope assumes a guarding stance. He raises both of his fists and looks at Henry seriously. "We'll start off light, but as long as neither of us ends up dead because of a single sudden hit, I should be able to heal any damage we take."
Henry nods. He takes a deep breath, then assumes his own combat stance, dancing between his heels and toes as he starts moving from side to side.
"I've gotta warn you, Commander." Henry says. "I haven't tested my strength yet, but the Sovereign says I'm as strong as he was when he was alive. I also have access to all of his knowledge on fighting, as well as the knowledge of everyone he's ever connected with, and the 10,000 who joined his consciousness today."
"That's why I said we'll start light." Hope says with a smile. "I'm no novice, but when it comes to combat? I doubt I'm Jepthath's match. HUH!"
He suddenly lunges toward Henry and sends a jab at his opponent's right shoulder. Henry lightly pivots from the flat of his foot to his heel, turning slightly to avoid the attack.
THWAP!
Hope sees stars as the side of Henry's fist bashes against his left ear, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Hope blinks his eyes, needing a few seconds to register just what in the hell happened.
"Commander!" Henry exclaims. "Are you okay?!"
He quickly leans down to pick Hope up, and the Wordsmith clumsily climbs to his feet, visibly dazed.
"...huh? Huh?? You... hit me?" Hope asks, incredulous. "I didn't... even... see you move."
"I tried to restrain my strength." Henry says, blushing in embarrassment. "I thought that backfist would only knock you to the side a little bit."
Hope rubs the side of his head. He opens and closes his jaw while a ringing sound squeals in his ear. "Normalize. Heal. It's no problem, Henry. That's the whole point of this exercise, to see how strong you are. Clearly, I was way off the mark in my estimations. I'm going to need to take this a lot more seriously."
Hope once again assumes his guarded-stance. "Empower. Strength. Defense. Swiftness. Agility. Reaction. Prediction..."
He strings along several dozen Words of Power, all of them being spells that he has confirmed will help him during hand-to-hand combat fights thanks to his six years of practice, as well as his training inside the Hall of Heroes.
Finally, he finishes off with one last word. "Invincibility. There, that should make my body basically a slab of tungsten."
"You're all done, sir?" Henry asks, his eyes sparkling innocently. "I'll make sure not to hit you in the head again."
"I'm far stronger than before." Hope warns him. "Don't hold back on my account. Though, do try to avoid my jaw. I can't Wordsmith if I can't speak."
"Noted, sir." Henry says back, as he once again resumes his dance-like steps of combat footwork.
The two men start trading blows once more. This time, Hope manages to match his opponent in the physicality department. When Henry sends a crushing blow toward Hope's chest, the Wordsmith takes the hit, staggers back, then leaps forward to spike a jab at Henry's throat. Henry slaps his fist aside, than ducks low and tries sweeping Hope's feet. The Wordsmith lightly hops, evades the sweep, and plants his feet firmly on the ground before punching down at Henry's lowered head.
Over and over, the two men attack and defend, the sounds of their fists, arms, feet, and legs making contact as they disturb the nearby woodland creatures.
For twenty long minutes, they fight. Eventually, Hope pulls back, sweat covering his whole body. Comparatively, Henry appears somewhat relaxed, as if the sparring session was barely even a warmup.
"I'm not your equal." Hope says mildly. "Strength-wise, I can barely match up to you. But when it comes to technique? I feel like a toddler fighting a martial arts master. I can barely even land any hits, but you're constantly knocking me around like I'm in a goddamn pinball machine."
Henry blushes again. "Sorry, Commander. I held back as best as I could to match your strength level."
"Wait, you're still holding back??" Hope asks, bewildered.
"Well, yes, sir." Henry says, scratching his nose sheepishly. "You said this was only a sparring match. If I were to go all-out I'd probably have easily..."
He trails off, causing the implication to linger in the air.
Hope blinks his eyes, feeling as if a bomb has exploded in his mind. "Henry! Be honest with me. How much have you been holding back?"
"Well. I don't have any exact numbers or whatever." Henry says, looking away. "I mean, I probably used less than half my strength? Can you perhaps boost yourself more? Then I can get a more accurate estimate..."
Visibly dismayed, Hope hangs his head and looks at the ground in disbelief.
"...So this is what Solomon meant when he said Specialists are better than Generalists in their specific field. Sorry, Henry, but if I strengthen my body any more, I'll probably explode. This is all I can manage for now. Let's call it good for today."
"Oh. Alright then!" Henry says, cheering up a bit. "It was a lot of fun anyway, Commander! I feel so powerful now, like I could rip a tank apart with my bare hands! If I have any one complaint, it would just be..."
He pauses, then looks away.
"Well. I'm not usually one for using my fists. I was a sniper when I worked under Neil. I'd rather be using a gun if I'm being honest, but now it feels like I'd be wasting my strength if I did that instead of using my whole body."
"Yeah. Maybe..." Hope says uncertainly. "Or perhaps we need to get you a new weapon and set of armor that better matches what your body can accomplish now, to say nothing of your new status. I'll talk to Hans Wagner and see what he thinks."
With their sparring session complete, both men teleport back to Maiuran High Command, now located in the city of Adamsburg, a fortress built atop the planet's tallest mountain. Despite its immense height and seemingly awkward geographical positioning, because of the efforts of several Fairy Princesses, there exist teleportation matrices at the bottom that can send any number of civilians and troops upward and downward as needed.
This city atop a peak, named Mount Adams after the commander himself, stands as a testament to what humanity can accomplish even with surprisingly limited resources. In fact, Hope Hiro had almost nothing to do with its construction. It was built a few years earlier at the command of Neil himself, who wished to have a secure fallback location in the event of a total collapse of humanity's ranks. While it would normally be quite secure, its carrying capacity was unfortunately too limited to hold all the humans in existence during the Stormbringer assault.
Now though, with humanity's population having been decreased by a significant margin, Adamsburg provides a safe and secure shelter for the humans to start from, allowing them to begin working their way outward to conquer more of Maiura's fertile territory.
As Hope and Henry teleport into the city built atop the mountain, Henry looks around in wonder. "Wow! I should have come here sooner."
Hundreds of residences made of rock and stone dot the city's interior. Thirty-foot walls shield the city from external attacks, which would also have to aim those attacks upward to even reach the city's underside.
In many ways, it resembles a medieval city, but with electricity powering it courtesy of Hope's few material contributions. Thanks to his Wordsmithing, he was able to add a miniaturized fusion reactor to the city's electrical grid, allowing it to self-sustain its residents as needed for the next several hundred years.
When the two men arrive inside Adamsburg, Hope starts walking toward the city center, where Neil's personal office sits comfortably within a few minutes of walking distance in any direction. But hardly has Hope taken ten steps before a series of invisible question marks pop up over his head. He turns around to see Henry standing in place, clearly content to stay behind.
"What are you doing?" Hope asks. "Come on! Let's go see Neil!"
"Huh? Me?" Henry asks, his face paling. "You want... me... to see the Commander? I- I don't know, Hope. That doesn't seem- I don't think that would be a good idea. I know he hates me for what I did. I can't look him in the eye anymore."
Hope realizes the reason for Henry's lollygagging. He chuckles under his breath. "You don't need to worry about that. Neil's not the sort of guy to hold a grudge. Even if he is, all you have to do is sit through one tongue-lashing and admit you screwed up, and he'll forgive you."
"Are... are you sure?" Henry asks, wincing. "I don't know."
"I've known Neil for six years. We're extremely close, almost like father and son." Hope says. "Now come on! If you're going to call yourself 'Jepthath's Envoy' then you're gonna need to grow a goddamn spine, man."
"I have a spine!" Henry protests. "But... it's easier killing demons than facing Commander Adams again. I hate that I nearly got him killed, all because of that demon bitch."
"Good. Be sure and tell him that." Hope concludes.
The two men resume walking. They pass by hundreds of civilians in the bustling city, many of whom have only migrated within the past few days. In fact, more than eighty percent of Maiura's human population have come from Tarus II after the Great Debate, which has caused a certain amount of friction among those who settled here for a longer time before.
"Goddammit!" One man yells as he stands in a line outside a popular restaurant. "Ever since you Tarus yokels came along, this place has been packed every day! I used to be able to walk in and sit down. Why do I need a reservation just because you yahoos moved here, huh??"
"Quiet down!" A man ahead of him yells back. "We're all waiting. Fair is fair!"
Hope observes the interaction as he passes, then swiftly forgets about it a few moments later. Squabbles of this level aren't of any interest to him, and will instead be dealt with by the city enforcers if things turn violent.
He and Henry eventually arrive at a sizable building that resembles a library, with architectural flourishes that give it a classical look, yet without skimping on the security. Numerous troopers patrol outside, while a half-dozen sit and stand atop the slanted roof, keeping an eye out for airborne threats. When Neil is on base, everyone always remains on high alert, just in case.
Both men walk inside, and Hope nods at a blonde woman with glasses. "Debra. Is Neil busy right now?"
"Only if it's not you asking." Debra says with a smile. Then her eyes meet Henry's and that smile disappears. "You brought him here?"
"I have a good reason." Hope says, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he walks Henry over to Neil's office door. He knocks twice, then lowers the handle to push the door open.
Neil looks up, momentarily surprised someone would just walk right in, but only until he realizes it's Hope. "How did the ceremony go?" He asks.
Hope doesn't say anything. He steps into the room, then gestures behind himself at Henry, who slowly walks inside, reflexively lowering his head out of shame.
"C-commander." Henry mumbles, wringing his hands together.
"So it's you." Neil says. He looks at Hope with narrowed eyes. "You brought him here because...?"
Instead of answering, Hope tilts his head up. "Privacy. Barrier. Solidify. Opaque. Scan..."
He erects a privacy field around the room, taking care to triple-check and ensure no Psions are inside the bubble where they can listen in. After satisfying his desire for privacy, he smiles politely at Neil.
"I'd like to introduce you to the strongest member of the Parahuman Corps, Neil. Henry Cliff has obtained a perfect compatibility rating with Jepthath's power. He is as strong as the ancient Hero-King was when he walked the Earth, and has thus been named Jepthath's Champion. You can also call him Lord Henry, or the Illuminator's Envoy, if you prefer."
Neil listens to Hope's introduction. He looks Henry up and down, but to his layman eyes, the young man still appears only as strong as any average soldier. Certainly not as impressive as Hope seems to think.
"I- uh, Commander." Henry says, stuttering and mashing his words together. "Don't- don't let my, uh, appearance fool you. Ahaha... I'm pretty strong."
"He beat my ass during our sparring session." Hope says plainly. "And I was going at him with everything I had. Henry here didn't even break a sweat."
For several long seconds, the room falls into an awkward silence.
Neil simply stares at Henry, and the young man becomes visibly more uncomfortable by the second. Finally, he breaks composure and steps toward Neil while holding his palms out.
"Commander! I... I am so sorry. I am filled with shame at my actions during Stormbringer. I betrayed you! I betrayed humanity. Ose may have assumed the form of a beautiful human woman, but I didn't follow protocol and report her to the higher-ups! Because of me, you ended up captured by the demons and suffered terrible torture! I don't know how I can redeem myself, but I'll do anything- ANYTHING, if it satisfies you."
Neil continues to remain silent for a few seconds longer.
"...Will you kill yourself if I ask you to do so?"
Henry flinches at the question. He starts to open his mouth, but then he pauses for a moment before lowering his head.
"I'm sorry, Commander. That's the one thing I cannot do for you."
"Oh? And why is that?" Neil asks, unfazed.
"Because, sir. I'm not some ordinary civilian anymore. I answer to a higher power. I have a Calling now, and a strength that I cannot throw away uselessly. I need to use Jepthath's strength to save as many human lives as possible! But if, in the future, my power becomes irrelevant, I would be willing to follow your... request."
Neil again stays quiet. He looks Henry up and down a few times, clearly thinking to himself about something unknown.
Finally, he stands up from his chair and folds his hands behind his back.
"That was an excellent response. It seems the time spent in that prison cell gave you a chance to think about what sort of person you were becoming, and what sort of person you'd want to be."
He continues. "I'll be honest, boy. I never blamed you for what you did. Demons are wiley. Crafty. You are young and stupid. You thought with your lower head instead of the brain the Creator gave you. Even so, I know if Ose hadn't pretended to be a human, you'd never have done as she asked. You'd have turned against her the moment you realized she was a demon."
The Commander inhales sharply. "Every man makes mistakes. But it is not these errors which define us. Rather, it is the lessons we learn from them that shape our potential and turn boys into men. I see now that you have grown a little wiser and will not be fooled so easily in the future."
Henry nods heavily. "I cannot claim I'll never make another mistake, Commander. But I promise to do my best not to fall for any bloodskin's forked tongue again."
Neil chuckles. "You know, when I was younger- before Bahamut took me, that is, I fought under a Hero named Napoleon."
He continues. "In Napoleon's army, there were plenty of fellows who screwed up basic orders, failed to follow simple commands, but Napoleon often forgave them even when it seemed nonsensical. Why, on one occasion, some fool lit a cigar near a barrel of gunpowder and damn near killed three people nearby, not to mention himself. When Napoleon only let the man off with a stern rebuke... I was so confused at the time. I questioned him about the matter in private, and do you know what he told me?"
Hope and Henry both listen intently as Neil pauses to let their minds run wild.
"He told me, 'Neil, what would you have me do? Kill the bastard? Better to let him live. For the price of one barrel of gunpowder, we taught that man a valuable lesson. You can bet going forward he'll be far more prudent about his actions!' And I must say, Napoleon was right. That person ended up becoming a lieutenant toward the end of the war, decorated for his valor, and well known for his sometimes-excessive level of caution."
Neil shrugs. "Compared to the price you paid, which actually ended up being nothing at all, I'd say the lesson you learned was equally valuable. I'm fine in the end. Alive and fully intact in body, mind, and soul. Contrary to what you might believe, no demons tortured me, though they did deny me a bit of food in a pathetic, half-assed attempt to weaken my morale. It's too bad they underestimated the indomitable will of the human spirit."
Henry nods, fully comprehending Neil's words. "I understand, Commander. Your wisdom is truly sublime."
"I'm glad to have you back, Henry." Neil says with a smile. "You were my best sniper. I'll be watching your military career with great interest in the future. Don't disappoint me."
Henry slaps his chest. "I promise I won't, sir!"
After the two men exchange a few more pleasantries, Neil has Hope teleport Henry outside of the privacy barrier, leaving the Wordsmith and Commander Adams alone.
In an instant, Neil's smile vanishes. In its face, an icy-cold gaze fixates on Hope.
"That Jepthath is really something." Neil says frostily. "I'll bet you didn't even notice what just happened."
Hope blinks twice. "Huh? What- what do you mean? Are you telling me you only pretended to accept Henry's apology?"
"Henry didn't apologize. Jepthath did." Neil explains slowly, waiting for Hope to catch on. "Come on, boy. You're smarter than this. Don't tell me you didn't notice the abrupt change in Henry's demeanor. I'm not a close friend of his, but we've spoken on several occasions. He's never been this decisive before."
"I... I don't know." Hope says, frowning at Neil. "I think Henry really wanted to get that apology off his chest, Neil. Why are you saying it was Jepthath talking? I mean, I know Jepthath could have used the Dominion Rod's connection to seize control of Henry, but that seems unlikely, don't you think??"
Neil shrugs again. "Maybe you're right. Maybe Jepthath didn't take direct control. But that whole shpiel about a 'higher calling'? Give me a break. Don't you know who Henry is? He's an illiterate human we rescued from one of the savage worlds. He's adapted to modern human society somewhat, true, but since when has he ever been so well-spoken? No, I can state with absolute confidence that Jepthath had a hand in that boy's emotional transformation. It's up to you whether you believe me or not."
Hope's frown deepens. He glances behind himself, as if trying to see the doorway hidden by his Privacy Field. He turns back to Neil, unwilling to concede this point.
"Let's agree to disagree, Neil. Henry's a good guy. He screwed up once, yeah, but you didn't have to lie to him to make him feel better."
"I spoke no lies. I meant every word I said." Neil counters calmly. "Whether or not Jepthath took over for a while, Henry has learned a lesson and it may just turn him into a true man. But we won't know for the foreseeable future, so let's move on to other things."
He meets Hope's gaze. "Have you spoken to Diablo yet?"
"No. I was waiting to see how the Illumination Ceremony played out." Hope explains. "Now I know, and we've gained a lot of bargaining chips. If you really want me to lead troopers into battle alongside the demons, then I'll do it."
"It has to be you." Neil says. "My reputation won't allow me to take Diablo's deal, but you can play the moderate in this situation."
Hope snorts. "Heh. Sometimes you make me think you're a real funny guy, Neil. I'll go find and talk to Diablo after this, don't you worry. Maybe within the next week we can start fighting alongside him."
"That would be for the best." Neil concludes. "Anything else?"
"Yeah. One last thing." Hope says, his tone of voice changing to something resembling a bubbling anger. "There were five Changelings that tried to attend the ceremony. Jepthath sniffed them out when he tried connecting to their minds, and Henry killed them. Our troops should be bringing the bodies soon."
"Changelings." Neil says, tightening his eyebrows. "You're positive it was them? To date, we haven't had any luck detecting them."
"Jepthath's power seems to be the key." Hope explains. "Now that we have five bodies to examine, we'll need to do so in absolute secrecy. I fear the Volgrim already know about the deaths of their spies, but it's possible they might not. In any case, with five bodies to examine, we might find a biological marker or some sort of DNA sequence we can use to identify other Changelings in the future."
A few seconds pass. Neil looks at Hope questioningly.
"You're telling me the differences aren't obvious? Did you even examine their corpses?"
"Of course." Hope says. "That's the first thing I did! But no dice. I'm telling you Neil, if the Parahumans weren't swearing up and down these five were Changelings, I'd have no idea! Their internal organs, their brains, every piece of them came up human even when I looked at them with my Wordsmithing. It's fucking uncanny is what it is. And creepy."
Neil's expression turns ugly. "All along I assumed they were only deceiving us with their outward appearance. If their entire body can blend in with any populace, then we're in real trouble, Hope. We have five bodies to cut open but even those might not help us identify other Volgrim spies!"
"Yeah. You're telling me." Hope mutters.
The two of them chatter a while longer, then Hope turns to leave.
"I'll be visiting Diablo next." Hope says. "Until next time, Neil."
"Until next time." Neil says, as Hope dissipates the Privacy Field.
The Wordsmith teleports away, leaving Neil to plunk back in his chair and rest his elbows on his desk.
Humanity's Military Commander stares vacantly ahead for a long while, thinking about various things.
Jepthath, you are a sneaky one.

In the immediate aftermath of his empowerment, Henry basks in the glow of adoration from his fellow Parahumans. A deep sense of satisfaction wells up in his chest after slaughtering the five Changelings who dared to infiltrate their solemn ceremony, and he looks at the Second Wordsmith with gratitude and profound respect. Without Hope Hiro, he would still be a mere civilian, doomed to live a life of mediocrity. All of that has changed now.
As for Hope, he pats Henry's blood-covered shoulder and smiles. "Well done, Henry. Anyone here could have killed those Changelings, but you were the first to react. Maybe you even managed to prevent them from leaking what happened here, too. I sure hope you did."
Henry grins. "Just doing my duty for the good of humanity, Commander."
Several soldiers nearby whoop and cheer as they slap Henry's back and congratulate him. But while they give the young man the credit he deserves, Hope has a few other people gather the bodies of the Changelings and lie them down, side to side. Despite the gruesome sights of their mangled corpses, Hope doesn't even blink. He's long become desensitized to such violent imagery.
"Scan. Examine." Hope says, sending Words of Power out to probe the corpses. "Hmm."
Henry pulls away from the crowd to walk over and crouch down beside his Commander. "Notice something, sir?"
"I haven't." Hope says. "That's the problem. Every inch of these people looks identical to the average human. You're... sure they were Volgrim Changelings, right? Like, you're one hundred percent sure? Because everything I'm seeing here indicates they're ordinary humans."
Henry nods seriously. "Without a doubt. When Jepthath connected to my mind, I could read the thoughts and sense the emotions of everyone around me. But not these five. Their minds were... void. When I probed deeper, I came into contact with words and thoughts that didn't feel human. It was like if I tried to describe to you how a slug experiences the world around it. Completely alien."
"So you could only tell because of Jepthath's power." Hope muses. "That poses a problem. I can't verify these are aliens at all. If they really are Changelings, their disguises are incredible. The blood is slightly discolored, so that might be worth looking into, but otherwise even their genetic makeup is identical to that of any human."
"I think you should examine their souls, sir." Henry suggests. "Or their brains. I'm telling you, they didn't think in the same way I did at all. It was almost frightening how weird their thought patterns were. I can't really put the experience into words."
Another man nearby nods. "I felt the same thing too, Commander. Lord Henry isn't lying."
"I know he isn't." Hope says with a smile, before raising an eyebrow. "Wait, 'Lord' Henry?"
"That is what the Sovereign has decreed all of us should call him by." The man says. "He is Jepthath's Champion. He possesses the same strength and power the Sovereign did when he walked the Earth. It's only fair to call him our Lord."
Hope looks at Henry. The young man doesn't physically appear any different from before. Compared to the roided-up Parahumans who also ascended, Henry appears the same as before, almost as if he didn't power up in the slightest.
"I want some of you to deliver these corpses to Neil in secret." Hope says to a nearby soldier. "I'll let him know you're coming ahead of time. Don't tell anyone these are Changelings. Just say they were training casualties."
"Yes sir!" The soldier says, before gathering a few other people to cover the bodies and drag them away.
As the crowd disperses to discuss the day's events, Hope slaps Henry's back. "Come with me."
He and Henry stand up, then they exit the church and head deep into the woods. After walking for a couple of kilometers, Hope cracks his neck, then turns to face Henry.
"We'll spar here."
Henry blinks. "Sir?"
"My body is augmented." Hope says mildly. "Due to an accident six years ago, billions of nanites ended up embedded under my skin. Over time, they're merged with my biological makeup and enhanced me in lots of different ways. My bones are durable, my mind is quicker, even my blood pumps a little faster."
Hope assumes a guarding stance. He raises both of his fists and looks at Henry seriously. "We'll start off light, but as long as neither of us ends up dead because of a single sudden hit, I should be able to heal any damage we take."
Henry nods. He takes a deep breath, then assumes his own combat stance, dancing between his heels and toes as he starts moving from side to side.
"I've gotta warn you, Commander." Henry says. "I haven't tested my strength yet, but the Sovereign says I'm as strong as he was when he was alive. I also have access to all of his knowledge on fighting, as well as the knowledge of everyone he's ever connected with, and the 10,000 who joined his consciousness today."
"That's why I said we'll start light." Hope says with a smile. "I'm no novice, but when it comes to combat? I doubt I'm Jepthath's match. HUH!"
He suddenly lunges toward Henry and sends a jab at his opponent's right shoulder. Henry lightly pivots from the flat of his foot to his heel, turning slightly to avoid the attack.
THWAP!
Hope sees stars as the side of Henry's fist bashes against his left ear, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Hope blinks his eyes, needing a few seconds to register just what in the hell happened.
"Commander!" Henry exclaims. "Are you okay?!"
He quickly leans down to pick Hope up, and the Wordsmith clumsily climbs to his feet, visibly dazed.
"...huh? Huh?? You... hit me?" Hope asks, incredulous. "I didn't... even... see you move."
"I tried to restrain my strength." Henry says, blushing in embarrassment. "I thought that backfist would only knock you to the side a little bit."
Hope rubs the side of his head. He opens and closes his jaw while a ringing sound squeals in his ear. "Normalize. Heal. It's no problem, Henry. That's the whole point of this exercise, to see how strong you are. Clearly, I was way off the mark in my estimations. I'm going to need to take this a lot more seriously."
Hope once again assumes his guarded-stance. "Empower. Strength. Defense. Swiftness. Agility. Reaction. Prediction..."
He strings along several dozen Words of Power, all of them being spells that he has confirmed will help him during hand-to-hand combat fights thanks to his six years of practice, as well as his training inside the Hall of Heroes.
Finally, he finishes off with one last word. "Invincibility. There, that should make my body basically a slab of tungsten."
"You're all done, sir?" Henry asks, his eyes sparkling innocently. "I'll make sure not to hit you in the head again."
"I'm far stronger than before." Hope warns him. "Don't hold back on my account. Though, do try to avoid my jaw. I can't Wordsmith if I can't speak."
"Noted, sir." Henry says back, as he once again resumes his dance-like steps of combat footwork.
The two men start trading blows once more. This time, Hope manages to match his opponent in the physicality department. When Henry sends a crushing blow toward Hope's chest, the Wordsmith takes the hit, staggers back, then leaps forward to spike a jab at Henry's throat. Henry slaps his fist aside, than ducks low and tries sweeping Hope's feet. The Wordsmith lightly hops, evades the sweep, and plants his feet firmly on the ground before punching down at Henry's lowered head.
Over and over, the two men attack and defend, the sounds of their fists, arms, feet, and legs making contact as they disturb the nearby woodland creatures.
For twenty long minutes, they fight. Eventually, Hope pulls back, sweat covering his whole body. Comparatively, Henry appears somewhat relaxed, as if the sparring session was barely even a warmup.
"I'm not your equal." Hope says mildly. "Strength-wise, I can barely match up to you. But when it comes to technique? I feel like a toddler fighting a martial arts master. I can barely even land any hits, but you're constantly knocking me around like I'm in a goddamn pinball machine."
Henry blushes again. "Sorry, Commander. I held back as best as I could to match your strength level."
"Wait, you're still holding back??" Hope asks, bewildered.
"Well, yes, sir." Henry says, scratching his nose sheepishly. "You said this was only a sparring match. If I were to go all-out I'd probably have easily..."
He trails off, causing the implication to linger in the air.
Hope blinks his eyes, feeling as if a bomb has exploded in his mind. "Henry! Be honest with me. How much have you been holding back?"
"Well. I don't have any exact numbers or whatever." Henry says, looking away. "I mean, I probably used less than half my strength? Can you perhaps boost yourself more? Then I can get a more accurate estimate..."
Visibly dismayed, Hope hangs his head and looks at the ground in disbelief.
"...So this is what Solomon meant when he said Specialists are better than Generalists in their specific field. Sorry, Henry, but if I strengthen my body any more, I'll probably explode. This is all I can manage for now. Let's call it good for today."
"Oh. Alright then!" Henry says, cheering up a bit. "It was a lot of fun anyway, Commander! I feel so powerful now, like I could rip a tank apart with my bare hands! If I have any one complaint, it would just be..."
He pauses, then looks away.
"Well. I'm not usually one for using my fists. I was a sniper when I worked under Neil. I'd rather be using a gun if I'm being honest, but now it feels like I'd be wasting my strength if I did that instead of using my whole body."
"Yeah. Maybe..." Hope says uncertainly. "Or perhaps we need to get you a new weapon and set of armor that better matches what your body can accomplish now, to say nothing of your new status. I'll talk to Hans Wagner and see what he thinks."
With their sparring session complete, both men teleport back to Maiuran High Command, now located in the city of Adamsburg, a fortress built atop the planet's tallest mountain. Despite its immense height and seemingly awkward geographical positioning, because of the efforts of several Fairy Princesses, there exist teleportation matrices at the bottom that can send any number of civilians and troops upward and downward as needed.
This city atop a peak, named Mount Adams after the commander himself, stands as a testament to what humanity can accomplish even with surprisingly limited resources. In fact, Hope Hiro had almost nothing to do with its construction. It was built a few years earlier at the command of Neil himself, who wished to have a secure fallback location in the event of a total collapse of humanity's ranks. While it would normally be quite secure, its carrying capacity was unfortunately too limited to hold all the humans in existence during the Stormbringer assault.
Now though, with humanity's population having been decreased by a significant margin, Adamsburg provides a safe and secure shelter for the humans to start from, allowing them to begin working their way outward to conquer more of Maiura's fertile territory.
As Hope and Henry teleport into the city built atop the mountain, Henry looks around in wonder. "Wow! I should have come here sooner."
Hundreds of residences made of rock and stone dot the city's interior. Thirty-foot walls shield the city from external attacks, which would also have to aim those attacks upward to even reach the city's underside.
In many ways, it resembles a medieval city, but with electricity powering it courtesy of Hope's few material contributions. Thanks to his Wordsmithing, he was able to add a miniaturized fusion reactor to the city's electrical grid, allowing it to self-sustain its residents as needed for the next several hundred years.
When the two men arrive inside Adamsburg, Hope starts walking toward the city center, where Neil's personal office sits comfortably within a few minutes of walking distance in any direction. But hardly has Hope taken ten steps before a series of invisible question marks pop up over his head. He turns around to see Henry standing in place, clearly content to stay behind.
"What are you doing?" Hope asks. "Come on! Let's go see Neil!"
"Huh? Me?" Henry asks, his face paling. "You want... me... to see the Commander? I- I don't know, Hope. That doesn't seem- I don't think that would be a good idea. I know he hates me for what I did. I can't look him in the eye anymore."
Hope realizes the reason for Henry's lollygagging. He chuckles under his breath. "You don't need to worry about that. Neil's not the sort of guy to hold a grudge. Even if he is, all you have to do is sit through one tongue-lashing and admit you screwed up, and he'll forgive you."
"Are... are you sure?" Henry asks, wincing. "I don't know."
"I've known Neil for six years. We're extremely close, almost like father and son." Hope says. "Now come on! If you're going to call yourself 'Jepthath's Envoy' then you're gonna need to grow a goddamn spine, man."
"I have a spine!" Henry protests. "But... it's easier killing demons than facing Commander Adams again. I hate that I nearly got him killed, all because of that demon bitch."
"Good. Be sure and tell him that." Hope concludes.
The two men resume walking. They pass by hundreds of civilians in the bustling city, many of whom have only migrated within the past few days. In fact, more than eighty percent of Maiura's human population have come from Tarus II after the Great Debate, which has caused a certain amount of friction among those who settled here for a longer time before.
"Goddammit!" One man yells as he stands in a line outside a popular restaurant. "Ever since you Tarus yokels came along, this place has been packed every day! I used to be able to walk in and sit down. Why do I need a reservation just because you yahoos moved here, huh??"
"Quiet down!" A man ahead of him yells back. "We're all waiting. Fair is fair!"
Hope observes the interaction as he passes, then swiftly forgets about it a few moments later. Squabbles of this level aren't of any interest to him, and will instead be dealt with by the city enforcers if things turn violent.
He and Henry eventually arrive at a sizable building that resembles a library, with architectural flourishes that give it a classical look, yet without skimping on the security. Numerous troopers patrol outside, while a half-dozen sit and stand atop the slanted roof, keeping an eye out for airborne threats. When Neil is on base, everyone always remains on high alert, just in case.
Both men walk inside, and Hope nods at a blonde woman with glasses. "Debra. Is Neil busy right now?"
"Only if it's not you asking." Debra says with a smile. Then her eyes meet Henry's and that smile disappears. "You brought him here?"
"I have a good reason." Hope says, ignoring the protest in her eyes as he walks Henry over to Neil's office door. He knocks twice, then lowers the handle to push the door open.
Neil looks up, momentarily surprised someone would just walk right in, but only until he realizes it's Hope. "How did the ceremony go?" He asks.
Hope doesn't say anything. He steps into the room, then gestures behind himself at Henry, who slowly walks inside, reflexively lowering his head out of shame.
"C-commander." Henry mumbles, wringing his hands together.
"So it's you." Neil says. He looks at Hope with narrowed eyes. "You brought him here because...?"
Instead of answering, Hope tilts his head up. "Privacy. Barrier. Solidify. Opaque. Scan..."
He erects a privacy field around the room, taking care to triple-check and ensure no Psions are inside the bubble where they can listen in. After satisfying his desire for privacy, he smiles politely at Neil.
"I'd like to introduce you to the strongest member of the Parahuman Corps, Neil. Henry Cliff has obtained a perfect compatibility rating with Jepthath's power. He is as strong as the ancient Hero-King was when he walked the Earth, and has thus been named Jepthath's Champion. You can also call him Lord Henry, or the Illuminator's Envoy, if you prefer."
Neil listens to Hope's introduction. He looks Henry up and down, but to his layman eyes, the young man still appears only as strong as any average soldier. Certainly not as impressive as Hope seems to think.
"I- uh, Commander." Henry says, stuttering and mashing his words together. "Don't- don't let my, uh, appearance fool you. Ahaha... I'm pretty strong."
"He beat my ass during our sparring session." Hope says plainly. "And I was going at him with everything I had. Henry here didn't even break a sweat."
For several long seconds, the room falls into an awkward silence.
Neil simply stares at Henry, and the young man becomes visibly more uncomfortable by the second. Finally, he breaks composure and steps toward Neil while holding his palms out.
"Commander! I... I am so sorry. I am filled with shame at my actions during Stormbringer. I betrayed you! I betrayed humanity. Ose may have assumed the form of a beautiful human woman, but I didn't follow protocol and report her to the higher-ups! Because of me, you ended up captured by the demons and suffered terrible torture! I don't know how I can redeem myself, but I'll do anything- ANYTHING, if it satisfies you."
Neil continues to remain silent for a few seconds longer.
"...Will you kill yourself if I ask you to do so?"
Henry flinches at the question. He starts to open his mouth, but then he pauses for a moment before lowering his head.
"I'm sorry, Commander. That's the one thing I cannot do for you."
"Oh? And why is that?" Neil asks, unfazed.
"Because, sir. I'm not some ordinary civilian anymore. I answer to a higher power. I have a Calling now, and a strength that I cannot throw away uselessly. I need to use Jepthath's strength to save as many human lives as possible! But if, in the future, my power becomes irrelevant, I would be willing to follow your... request."
Neil again stays quiet. He looks Henry up and down a few times, clearly thinking to himself about something unknown.
Finally, he stands up from his chair and folds his hands behind his back.
"That was an excellent response. It seems the time spent in that prison cell gave you a chance to think about what sort of person you were becoming, and what sort of person you'd want to be."
He continues. "I'll be honest, boy. I never blamed you for what you did. Demons are wiley. Crafty. You are young and stupid. You thought with your lower head instead of the brain the Creator gave you. Even so, I know if Ose hadn't pretended to be a human, you'd never have done as she asked. You'd have turned against her the moment you realized she was a demon."
The Commander inhales sharply. "Every man makes mistakes. But it is not these errors which define us. Rather, it is the lessons we learn from them that shape our potential and turn boys into men. I see now that you have grown a little wiser and will not be fooled so easily in the future."
Henry nods heavily. "I cannot claim I'll never make another mistake, Commander. But I promise to do my best not to fall for any bloodskin's forked tongue again."
Neil chuckles. "You know, when I was younger- before Bahamut took me, that is, I fought under a Hero named Napoleon."
He continues. "In Napoleon's army, there were plenty of fellows who screwed up basic orders, failed to follow simple commands, but Napoleon often forgave them even when it seemed nonsensical. Why, on one occasion, some fool lit a cigar near a barrel of gunpowder and damn near killed three people nearby, not to mention himself. When Napoleon only let the man off with a stern rebuke... I was so confused at the time. I questioned him about the matter in private, and do you know what he told me?"
Hope and Henry both listen intently as Neil pauses to let their minds run wild.
"He told me, 'Neil, what would you have me do? Kill the bastard? Better to let him live. For the price of one barrel of gunpowder, we taught that man a valuable lesson. You can bet going forward he'll be far more prudent about his actions!' And I must say, Napoleon was right. That person ended up becoming a lieutenant toward the end of the war, decorated for his valor, and well known for his sometimes-excessive level of caution."
Neil shrugs. "Compared to the price you paid, which actually ended up being nothing at all, I'd say the lesson you learned was equally valuable. I'm fine in the end. Alive and fully intact in body, mind, and soul. Contrary to what you might believe, no demons tortured me, though they did deny me a bit of food in a pathetic, half-assed attempt to weaken my morale. It's too bad they underestimated the indomitable will of the human spirit."
Henry nods, fully comprehending Neil's words. "I understand, Commander. Your wisdom is truly sublime."
"I'm glad to have you back, Henry." Neil says with a smile. "You were my best sniper. I'll be watching your military career with great interest in the future. Don't disappoint me."
Henry slaps his chest. "I promise I won't, sir!"
After the two men exchange a few more pleasantries, Neil has Hope teleport Henry outside of the privacy barrier, leaving the Wordsmith and Commander Adams alone.
In an instant, Neil's smile vanishes. In its face, an icy-cold gaze fixates on Hope.
"That Jepthath is really something." Neil says frostily. "I'll bet you didn't even notice what just happened."
Hope blinks twice. "Huh? What- what do you mean? Are you telling me you only pretended to accept Henry's apology?"
"Henry didn't apologize. Jepthath did." Neil explains slowly, waiting for Hope to catch on. "Come on, boy. You're smarter than this. Don't tell me you didn't notice the abrupt change in Henry's demeanor. I'm not a close friend of his, but we've spoken on several occasions. He's never been this decisive before."
"I... I don't know." Hope says, frowning at Neil. "I think Henry really wanted to get that apology off his chest, Neil. Why are you saying it was Jepthath talking? I mean, I know Jepthath could have used the Dominion Rod's connection to seize control of Henry, but that seems unlikely, don't you think??"
Neil shrugs again. "Maybe you're right. Maybe Jepthath didn't take direct control. But that whole shpiel about a 'higher calling'? Give me a break. Don't you know who Henry is? He's an illiterate human we rescued from one of the savage worlds. He's adapted to modern human society somewhat, true, but since when has he ever been so well-spoken? No, I can state with absolute confidence that Jepthath had a hand in that boy's emotional transformation. It's up to you whether you believe me or not."
Hope's frown deepens. He glances behind himself, as if trying to see the doorway hidden by his Privacy Field. He turns back to Neil, unwilling to concede this point.
"Let's agree to disagree, Neil. Henry's a good guy. He screwed up once, yeah, but you didn't have to lie to him to make him feel better."
"I spoke no lies. I meant every word I said." Neil counters calmly. "Whether or not Jepthath took over for a while, Henry has learned a lesson and it may just turn him into a true man. But we won't know for the foreseeable future, so let's move on to other things."
He meets Hope's gaze. "Have you spoken to Diablo yet?"
"No. I was waiting to see how the Illumination Ceremony played out." Hope explains. "Now I know, and we've gained a lot of bargaining chips. If you really want me to lead troopers into battle alongside the demons, then I'll do it."
"It has to be you." Neil says. "My reputation won't allow me to take Diablo's deal, but you can play the moderate in this situation."
Hope snorts. "Heh. Sometimes you make me think you're a real funny guy, Neil. I'll go find and talk to Diablo after this, don't you worry. Maybe within the next week we can start fighting alongside him."
"That would be for the best." Neil concludes. "Anything else?"
"Yeah. One last thing." Hope says, his tone of voice changing to something resembling a bubbling anger. "There were five Changelings that tried to attend the ceremony. Jepthath sniffed them out when he tried connecting to their minds, and Henry killed them. Our troops should be bringing the bodies soon."
"Changelings." Neil says, tightening his eyebrows. "You're positive it was them? To date, we haven't had any luck detecting them."
"Jepthath's power seems to be the key." Hope explains. "Now that we have five bodies to examine, we'll need to do so in absolute secrecy. I fear the Volgrim already know about the deaths of their spies, but it's possible they might not. In any case, with five bodies to examine, we might find a biological marker or some sort of DNA sequence we can use to identify other Changelings in the future."
A few seconds pass. Neil looks at Hope questioningly.
"You're telling me the differences aren't obvious? Did you even examine their corpses?"
"Of course." Hope says. "That's the first thing I did! But no dice. I'm telling you Neil, if the Parahumans weren't swearing up and down these five were Changelings, I'd have no idea! Their internal organs, their brains, every piece of them came up human even when I looked at them with my Wordsmithing. It's fucking uncanny is what it is. And creepy."
Neil's expression turns ugly. "All along I assumed they were only deceiving us with their outward appearance. If their entire body can blend in with any populace, then we're in real trouble, Hope. We have five bodies to cut open but even those might not help us identify other Volgrim spies!"
"Yeah. You're telling me." Hope mutters.
The two of them chatter a while longer, then Hope turns to leave.
"I'll be visiting Diablo next." Hope says. "Until next time, Neil."
"Until next time." Neil says, as Hope dissipates the Privacy Field.
The Wordsmith teleports away, leaving Neil to plunk back in his chair and rest his elbows on his desk.
Humanity's Military Commander stares vacantly ahead for a long while, thinking about various things.
Jepthath, you are a sneaky one.

Going through a breakup sucks, and it’s difficult to move on as if nothing happened. However, you need to keep these points in mind if you ever have an urge to try to get back with your ex.

1. She made an overt choice to remove you from her life. Let that sink in. That’s a huge deal. It doesn’t matter about your supposed history, how good she looks, or how she made you feel. In this current moment, she made the momentous decision that she no longer needs to see you. I’m a firm believer that once a girl falls out of love with you, there’s no going back. It doesn’t matter if she was madly in love with you six months ago. Emotionally, men are far more connected to the past than women are. Women are very oriented to the present moment and place far greater value on how men make them feel presently.
   
2. You have to place how a woman treats and values you at the top of your priority list in relationships. As mentioned in the first point, men tend to focus on external factors—such as looks—and tend to disregard a woman’s enthusiasm for him when choosing a partner. That’s why they chase. You have draw a line in the sand at all stages of your dating life, from casual dating to serious relationships, that you will never give time and energy to those who don’t value you, or aren’t enthusiastic about you. Chasing NEVER works in the long term—you can have the greatest game in the world, but if a woman just fundamentally isn’t into you or doesn’t value you, it won’t last.
   
3. This doesn’t apply in all cases, but when women initiate a breakup, they usually have another guy in mind as your replacement. Their desire to be with the other guy is often the catalyst, even if cheating wasn’t involved. If you decide to “win” her back, keep in mind that you are likely playing second fiddle to another dude. She might entertain the “idea” of getting back with you if the guy she really wants to be with isn’t showing her attention, but ask yourself, do you really want to be someone’s back up?
   
4. Think of wasted time and opportunity. Our time on Earth is limited. Do you really want to forgo some potentially great relationships out there for something that didn’t work out the first time? Unless you cheated or fucked up, there’s no use in believing that something is going to be better the second time around. Even if the breakup was your fault, was it really that important to you to begin with if you chose to fuck around? Likely not.
   
5. Do you really miss them, or are you scared to be alone? Some people have a hard time being on their own. If you fall into that category, consider this a chance for some self-discovery and growth by being alone for a bit. Do some hard thinking about what your purpose in life is. Being on your own is freedom. Our society shames being single and pushes relationships, sex, and romance constantly through social media. I repeat, it’s OK to be on your own. It doesn’t mean you're defective. Embrace your additional time and freedom, and use it wisely. Also, don’t shy away from dating around, and gaining experience. If you’ve only dated a few people, you need to gain experience dating multiple women. You’ll learn about what you like, get sexual experience, and not be as prone to neediness when you get into your next relationship, because you’ll realize there are many women out there who want to be with you.
   
6. It’s not love— just a scarcity mindset. A lot of guys desperately want to win back an ex because they simply think they can’t do better, or even find anyone at all. This is the most destructive reason to get back with someone. And it’s illogical. Abundance is the dating world is real. There are roughly 3 billion women on the planet. Even if only .00001 percent found you attractive, that still means there are tens of thousands of women who would be interested in dating you. Yes, it’s a very broad example, but the numbers truly are on your side. You have to break out of any mindset that is convincing you that ONLY ONE woman on the planet will want you. It’s an illogical and absurd thing to believe.
   

TLDR: Nexver chase an ex. They made an overt choice not to be in your life. That’s a big decision. The way someone treats and prioritizes you should be a primary factor if you want to be with them. In some cases, they already had your replacement in mind. Don’t confuse loneliness/or scarcity with love.
Full article on topic: https://modating.substack.com/p/quick-guide-why-you-should-never