Work Text:
There's something…comforting, about death. It's all over. You don't have to think, or feel, or be…aware, so to say. There's no family to disappoint, or friends to sadden. There's only you, and the end.
So it's only natural that there's a sort of uncomfortability in living when you should've died. I'm not sure if Avery feels the same, about our situation.
From the way he acts, it seems he doesn't.
Which is unfortunate, as it means I am unable to truly share these feelings with anybody else, besides myself in this book. These feelings of inadequacy, like the life I am leading now is like clothes that do not fit, or glasses I cannot see from.
It is all very confusing, even more so due to the current state of my mind.
Today, Avery took me outside for a walk. He told me I needed it, and I must admit, it was enjoyable. Although, after being self isolated for so long, the sun was…overwhelming. Overwhelming, but enjoyable. That seems to describe my feelings on most of the things Avery and I do nowadays.
Avery spent most of our time together talking. I…don't remember most of it, and I told him I would when he began. Avery, being Avery, only shrugged and told me it was alright. I do not think it's alright, but Avery has not yet steered me wrong before, and I would hope I have more time before he eventually does.
As well, it was a good feeling. To be told I did not have to be exceptional, in a way. I don't think such a sentiment has been expressed to me before in my life, unless I am misremembering.
…We walked to a park. It was beautiful. I think I've forgotten the wonder of the world, while in the all events that have passed. At least, until Avery reminded me. I'm lucky, truly, that he was able to find me.
It's getting harder for me to write now. In this book, I've only been able to write a page every day so far. This is the most I've written, and Avery seems to glow whenever I show him an entry. It's quite motivating.
It does help that I can look in these pages whenever I forget. The information is easier to reach, with physical words on a page. Regardless, my memory of today has gotten lost in the flood. Perhaps I will find it again, and write it when I do.
- I have forgotten my name. D3rlord3? Seth, 1-6-26