You Were Supposed To Save Him, You Were Made To Save Him

epilogue

the beautiful days never quite arrived. not to say that I made it any easier for them, waiting and waiting, as if golden rain would arrive any moment into this closed cell room, under this creaky bed. these days I find myself lost in a new daydream, one where I wake up, and it was all a nightmare, and it is the morning of 2018 again. and I will remember all that I did wrong, and I will fix it: I will love my friends the way they deserved to be loved, I will give and give and give to the people I am in debt to. and they won’t know of my wrongs, so this time around, just this time, I might be forgiven in advance. it’s too happy of a dream, too far away from reality, too much for my heart to bear when I blink my eyes and it is not the afternoon I dreamt of.

God, acceptance is a virtue I have yet to learn. and wasn’t struggle supposed to be retribution? wasn’t it supposed to be noble, and good, and wasn’t it supposed to be the key to happiness? did I pick the wrong kind of struggle, the kind against my own reality, or is it that the struggle of running away is no more noble than that of the coward against his own enemies? I wish I knew.

And in the pleasant dream of 3 years ago, everything went perfect. Because I knew what words to say, to make you love me, and I knew what mistakes to avoid, and- What if I never met her? How is she doing, right now, how do I spend the next 3 years not knowing if we will cross paths again, what if I don’t get to laugh with you? No, the future had so much more pain, and regret. But what about the paintings, and the gifts, and the phone calls? What about the cats outside my window, what about the flowers that lasted one week? Why now? Why do I have to think of all that is good now, seeped in the misery of all that is not?

But, again, this is just a dream. My phone screen will always read 2021, in the bleary lighting of my too-warm room. And the beautiful days won’t arrive, because they never existed. I won’t wake up at 4AM every morning, jump out of bed for a morning run, make a warm cup of coffee and complete my work before the sun ever rises. It eats away at my soul, at times: the thought of facing my younger self, who prayed for a beautiful dress so everyone could love her, who asked for different skin and eyes and smile, so maybe they would turn around and embrace her.

My shame takes the shape of that child, again, and I must hold her day after day and tell her I am so sorry, child, I’m so sorry I ruined your dreams, please, let me piece together whatever happy ending I can from the small hopes I find for you today. There is no perfect ending, child, there is no magic quite like what you and I hope for. But today I woke up at 4:35 AM, and I got something done, and I fell asleep till the afternoon. I didn’t go for a morning run, but I walked to the park before sunset. I didn’t face every terrifying problem, but I read one chapter, sent one apology. If only the perfect days had existed, so I would know what it felt like. All I know is a dream and the fact that one hour of reading was so much more than nothing. All I know is the warmth of waking to the sunrise, no matter how poorly the day went ahead. All I know is that I must love this life however I can, however it may be, just as one loves a child, in spite of, because of, all that makes them imperfect.

Epilouge

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

https://gofund.me/d597b8e2

My part of a collab for the @orv-gotcha-for-gaza event! It was an honor to work with you guys on this. Huge thank you to @/constellorv on twitter for donating, and to the mods for organizing this huge endeavor! Though the official donation phase is closed, the need for donations is not, so to anybody reading this: please continue finding and contributing to fundraisers you come across; this is the ORV G4G's original donation page if you're not sure where to start, but by no means is that an exhaustive list!

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(Full collab) (Piece #1 by @normalfreaks) (Piece #2 by @kookadooks/@tls123_twt)

fanart i drew of kim dokja dying in a glue trap

everyone is waiting for you kim dokja!

Are you any different?

Bonus:

oh..... my meow meows....

i have a really strong headcanon that kim dokja did fully have friends or at least people who were trying to be his friend pre-scenarios but his self hatred fully led to a goob from meet the robinsons situation where he ignored everyones attempts to get close to him. like i do think he generally had it really rough and didn't have many people who tried to reach out to him but going off of his interactions with yoo sangah we can assume that there were at least a few who he was dodging like bullets. kim dokja fully risked his job to move security cameras so they wouldnt catch yoo sangah pranking their bosses and she knows this and likes him because of it but he's still ah yoo sangah that perfect stranger why would she ever talk to me any time she tries to make conversation. you cant tell me there werent other similar situations throughout his life. it's just all those times there wasn't an apocalypse to keep them together and kim dokja succeeded in pushing them away

orv said if anyone's allowed to infodump periodically in a story as a narrator it should be the guy who "ummm ackshually"s every five seconds. it has to be in character