Leyla Got A Bit Of A Rush Anytime Anyone Recognized Her Place Because It Was Her Pride And Joy. The Cumulation

Leyla had spent years, before and after him, trying to believe that, and it was one thing she still struggled to accept. She would hear her parents sigh when they had to pay for another treatment, even when her mother had always been the first to comment when she looked comfortable. She was a lot of work. But at the end of the day, it was love that wasn't enough. Love: the invisible concept that was supposed to make the world better. But it didn't. It was empty. Empty words, empty hopes, empty rooms. "Only you could say that after what you've done and I still believe you," she mused. When he said it, she felt a strange sense of comfort as if it were true. As if she weren't difficult or exhausting, as if she were worth loving...

It was good while it lasted, from go, he was magnetic. He was her hero, swooping in to save her at the right moment. Back then, when she had believed in love, she used to love with every part of her being. Like an electric current that kept her alive. Even through all their troubles, they felt possible to overcome. Because they were together. She may not have survived without him, and she was almost surprised she did when she lost him. Her anorexia fueled anew by spite, and it was almost a blaze that consumed her entirely. The memory made her weak, fragile heart start to pound in her chest. No one could save her that time, she had to learn to save herself. Maybe he deserved some thanks for that.

Suddenly, she was hyperaware of the busy world around them: laughing children, people splashing in the water, running around, happily chatting about how great the day was. It was hardly the place for this, especially by the exhausted looks of him, so she nodded, "okay. Maybe you can come to Mawk Tales after closing sometime--I don't live alone." She looked over at him, not sure what to say, "enjoy the rest of your day, Vitus." Then she paused and added, "I think I mean that."

"No. It was never exhausting," he said, his voice sturdier despite his lingering tears. This was one truth that hadn't changed in all the years that had passed between them: "Loving you was the easy part."

It was true—he'd tripped over his clumsy feet and fallen straight into her when they met. Some nights were more difficult than others, certainly, but Vitus attributed that to their circumstances more than any personal faults. His love for Leyla had known no limits in its intensity. It had burned through him like wildfire, scorching every inch and edge of his skin, dizzying him with head-smoke. That all-consuming heat had lit him up during a time in his life when everything else inside him felt wholly, horribly dark. Vitus had fled to California after he lost her, searching for anything else that burned like she did, and what he found in Los Angeles almost killed him. It would be a lie, to say he didn't utterly regret losing Leyla the way he did.

"I'm sorry, I'm just—" At a loss for an appropriate adjective, Vitus gestured at the all of himself. Sleep still dragged at his eyelids. He was battling a weed-and-liquor hangover, and his hands had begun to twitch in search of a cigarette, any kind of reprieve from discomfort. Vitus rubbed his face and sniffled again, grateful the tears had begun to slow, at least. "Can we—if it's not too much to ask. Can we meet somewhere else, please? Somewhere private. And I can answer every question you have then." No way would he be able to give her anything close to satisfaction, caught off guard on the middle of a beach like this.

Since the moment of his confession, she had wanted something to make it better. Some word, some revenge, some idea...anything that would just make it better. He could offer her none of it. She knew he was sorry, but it wasn't a word that made it go away. It didn't bring the trust back or make her feel less unworthy; it didn't take the carefully crafted walls down or ease the self-talk that plagued her.

She couldn't leave him like this, even after everything. If any of the old Leyla was still alive, she had to care. She hated him, that was still true, but she loved him too. Not in the same way, that was long in the rearview, but people who made it to her heart never really left. Wiping quickly at her own tear, she started to reach for him but pulled her hand away like a flame that would burn. "You'll be okay," she murmured instead.

More of that poison-laced truth. If he wanted it, then why didn't he? That elusive why continued to taunt and torment her. "I'm having trouble believing that," she confessed honestly because it was all she could say. It still felt like her fault. You're too difficult, Leyla... "Maybe you're still just looking for something." Something not in her.

Her heart caved in as that question struck her with a million memories. Hands shaking, fork nervously tapping the plate, 'it's not the food' she would sob as if he didn't already know that. He was a great cook, and he never took any offense when she struggled to eat whatever he made. What do you need from me? When she looked too long in the mirror, counting every flaw. What do you need from me? When her mother called and made some fleeting jab of a remark. What do you need from me? "We're adults, there's no need to avoid each other, it's a small town," she said, leaving all emotion out of her voice. Her questions seemed pointless, and she wasn't sure if he had any more answers. But it came out anyway. "Was it...exhausting to love me? Was it too dark? Did you just need light?"

It was on the tip of his tongue again—another apology, trying to flee his parted lips and find her. Apologizing for apologizing too much was one of Vitus's most stubborn habits, formed over the last few years. He swallowed the rest of his I'm sorry's, forcing the horde of them back down into the core of his body. Leyla didn't want them anymore. Maybe she never had.

Here they were, both crying because Vitus hurt her ten years ago, and yet. Leyla was the one being patient with him. Guiding him back to some semblance of calm, the same way she used to. Deep breaths. She'd told him that when he stumbled home and splintered into a thousand sharp pieces after seeing his mother for the first time in years. As he had back then, Vitus followed her voice, drawing and releasing each breath one at a time. It helped. Of course it helped. And the fact that he'd burdened her with caretaking here, now, with him of all people, only drove the guilt deeper into his chest.

"I know, how it made you feel. How it made you doubt. But I did want to be faithful to you. I swear, I did. I've always wanted to be that guy." The one who could leave home for days at a time and think only of the connection waiting for him there. The one who didn't become excited, in some small part, whenever he cheated on someone. Vitus wanted the happily-ever-after kind of love, just never knew how to hold onto it long enough to make it last. She was right—he needed to figure it out, for the sake of every partner he'd ever hurt and every one he might still hurt down the line.

"What do you need from me?" He had asked her this question before. Intermittently throughout their relationship, as she struggled to look at the food on her plate or keep the future she wanted within sight. Back then it had been a matter of supporting her through personal troubles. This time, it was a matter of yielding to her amid the mess he made. "I can... answer any questions you have. I can steer clear of you around town." Intentional avoidance would heap more pain atop his shoulders, but this wasn't about him. "Whatever you need, Leyla."

Give me a number. What?

- Lady Bird (2017), dir: Greta Gerwig.

Though Leyla did not have much of a sweet tooth, she was in the area to find the cat cafe and thought she might go for a small cup of something. Perking up as she heard the woman next to her murmur something about a bad day and cookie dough, Leyla offered her a supportive smile and a shrug to her question. "Will you judge me if I say vanilla?" She asked, knowing most people did have a true favorite ice cream. Cookie dough in ice cream, though, did sound like the makings of a sugar high for days, but she didn't tell the disappointed woman that. "I don't eat a lot of sweets. All of these flavors are actually making my head spin a little."

who: kennedy & open [ 2 / 5 ]

where: the creamery

Kennedy had a particularly stressful day, running around town doing errands for an upcoming wedding. She knew what she was getting herself into when taking the job, but she still found herself a bit overwhelmed from time to time. So she decided to treat herself to some ice cream, knowing she had a bit of a sweet tooth and deciding to indulge in it as some type of reward after the hectic day. Glancing at the flavors, she noticed they were out of her favorite flavor. "This day just keeps getting worse," she mumbled to herself and glanced over at the person also waiting in line. "What's your favorite flavor? They're out of cookie dough which should be constituted as a crime." she was joking of course. "But if you say mint chocolate chip, I will be judging you."

Luckily Leyla liked being busy, especially when that meant her business was doing well. If it kept up though, she might have to start a hiring process. "Then I think you'll really like this," she promised, "and if you don't, I'll make you something else." She did want her drinks to be a little healthier than your average bar, and most drinks were, like this one. "I think I've walked past it before, but I haven't yet made it in there. I don't eat much candy, but maybe I'll stop in sometime just to have a look around. I bet you're the kids' favorite person around here?"

"Oh, no worries," she brushed the apologies away, offering a smile to the woman. Valentina had worked behind a bar in the many different jobs she had taken over the years. She knew how demanding it could be when there was a lot of people all at once. "Honestly, I spend so much time around sweet things", or sweet people she almost added, "that something different sounds perfect to me." Plus she was not going to complain if the drink had some health benefits, too. "I work at Cassidy's Candies. That's nearby. And kids are still on holidays, which means that my days are-- busy. Ice cream and candy and a looot of people on sugar high."

"Exactly, I think it'd make the place cozier," Leyla said with a bit of a laugh. She had found it endearing. As an only child, she hadn't shared a lot of space before, except with lovers, so it had been...dare she say, a fun experience. "A therapist-mechanic, that's quite a career choice, well, if you're as good a mechanic as a therapist, I know where I'll take my car if I have trouble," she offered, only a light passing reference to the fact she knew he was a good one. "Well, that's true, some people overdue it. When people don't know what you're talking about, that's a problem. I like that name, is there a meaning behind it?" She always liked hearing people's stories behind why their animals were named certain things. "Wow, that is decent-sized. I guess they're probably somewhere around here today too?"

"Nothing inspires trust among roommates quite like setting up cameras to catch them doing all of the things that they thought they were getting away with," he teased, broad smile on his face. He also couldn't see Leyla being too uptight about someone snacking during off hours… although people could be picky about their food. "When I'm not a therapist, I'm a mechanic -- in a garage full of men with big appetites. You learn how to get creative," especially if you didn't want your food to just up and disappear, and Josh didn't. His father, alone, wouldn't hesitate to eat his goodies. "Apparently we can be! I try not to be that kind of person, though -- I've already had conversations with people who are talking about 'my son' this or, 'my kid' that, and then it takes me far too long to realize they mean a dog. But mine's Toshiko. Toshi for short. And I hope, for your sake, you never have to part from the adopted dogs," he teased, letting out a laugh. "She has four kids, so a pretty decent sized family."

"You're welcome," she said softly, "I actually picked this up at What's The Tea recently. Their tea is really fantastic." Watching as he grabbed a fork for his fruit, she then placed the teapot on the stove to heat the water. "I'm the employee I have to tell to go home," she offered with a bit of a laugh, "and still keep working." She had always been bad about giving up control, still trying to do absolutely everything herself. "I always liked school--well, the work part anyway." She was about to ask about the fun of lesson planning when he answered that himself. "Words easily blend together after a while, right?" She perked up at the mention of the dogs, her favorite roommates in all honesty. "If you ever need help with them, someone to check on them while you're in class or something, I love dogs."

"Thanks," he offered her a bright smile in return, before locating a fork, deciding not to be a total barbarian that afternoon and picking at the fruit in the bowl, chewing through a piece of pineapple thoughtfully. "Makes sense. You're your own boss, and you best employee, right?" Unless she had someone else who did the dirty work! And even then, she probably still deserved a raise. "I do, at the community college," he nodded. "This is the time of year where I start gearing up to teach again, hence the snack break. Lesson plans are only fun for so long," which could be sad about any type of work, he was sure. "That, and I gotta take the dogs out in a few."

Leyla only thought she was going to leave her employees in charge of the booth for a little while to take a quick break, but here she was still on the phone as she browsed through various pumpkins to maybe add something with a design to the booth. As she hung up, her phone was knocked from her hand. "That's what I get for not putting work away," she joked, waving her hand to assure him he didn't need to apologize as she bent down to pick her phone up. "I've lived in New York, I've been whacked with stranger things." Well, maybe not, but still... "And maybe I walked into your pumpkin."

Who: Vince & open!! @merrock

What: Creek Fest

Capping at 6 (0/6)

Vince was walking through the lines of pumpkins. Every year they seemed to just be getting bigger and bigger, strange as that was. He picked up a rather large one and held the thing in his arms, and before realizing there was someone next to him, he turned his body. "Oh my god, I'm sorry!" he gasped. "I can't believe I just whacked you with a pumpkin!"

Well, if Instagram says so...who are we to argue? I don't keep up with trends, unfortunately, but I'm sure those ideas are going to be big. You can always go with someone from The Office, it's classic and pretty timeless. If you don't want to look like everyone else, you can go even more obscure...like a strawberry banana smoothie.

@merrock

Right, so, I'm taking recommendations for my Halloween costume. Before you say "Oh, Miles, it's too early-" blah, blah, blah. No, it isn't. Why not? Because the first Halloween edit came on my Instagram recommended page just now. Anyway, what's the trend this year? Barbie? Ken? Queen Charlotte and George? Farmer George? That's all the ideas I have. Any suggestions will do or I will have to result in dressing like a banana for the third year in a row. Costume is starting to wear down.

theboldtypetv everything the light touches is our kingdom. happy 20th anniversary @thelionking broadway. 🦁 #lionking20