do you ever think about how will probably wishes he was braver?
that he could tell mike the truth about himself without having to speak in code. that he could stick to his guns when he's been wronged and stand up for himself rather than tucking tail and turning the other cheek. that he could be less shy, less sensitive, less cowardly, and maybe then his loved ones wouldn't forget about him as often as they do.
maybe then they would pick him first, rather than leaving him for last. maybe then they would want to hang out with him and hear what he has to say. maybe then they would treat him like they used to, like he can still take care of himself just like they can, instead of like a fragile little thing that they pick up only when they need him. maybe then they would care about him as much as he cares about them. maybe then he wouldn't doubt that it could all come crashing down once they know who he really is, and always has been, because the rest of him would've been enough.
like, maybe he wishes he didn't freeze or run away so much. maybe he wishes he wasn't so afraid all the time, of every little thing. that he could be brave like mike, el, or his mom. i mean, el's been through so much, too. why can't he be more like her? why does he have to hide behind her? he hides behind her when the monsters come crawling back, and he hides behind her when he can't bring himself to say what he really means—even after getting on her case about it.
he spent so much time on that painting. he didn't let anyone see it—it was that special to him. why couldn't he own up to that? there's no monster in the van with him; it's just him and mike and this painting of the party, nothing inherently incriminating or romantic, and still—he can't help himself. he retreats back into the shadow, shrinks into himself, and tells lie after lie to the person that he never lies to, that he knows doesn't fucking deserve that, just because he's too scared.
of course he'd feel like a mistake sometimes. of course he'd hate who he is (if That script is to be believed), when he can't even talk to the one person that would understand without lying straight to his face, over and over again, like a fucking hypocrite. of course he'd feel so lost without the person that tells him it's okay to be this way and shows him that there is indeed strength in it. of course he'd hate who he is when he's encouraging someone to be true and speaking about their courage, all while being incapable of taking his own advice, and giving the credit for all of his love and efforts and emotions to someone else.
so many people died to bring him back, so many people died just because he didn't stay dead when maybe he should have, and for what? so that he can continue to hide rather than live his life? so that he can turn into a "worse" version of himself? so that he can live in fear? so that he can continue to ache for a past that he can never return to, while everyone else moves forward and berates him for not doing the same? time stopped in the upside down when will went missing, and he's been stuck there ever since, too. too much has happened for him to move on from. too much has changed—he's changed. he's too different now, in every way, and the older he gets the more clear it becomes.
of course he'd feel like a mistake. of course he'd hate who he is. he's the common denominator here: in his loneliness and in this war. the boy who came back to life when others didn't. the boy that got possessed and couldn't fight it. the boy that turned into a liar and a coward and must learn to live with it, even if it's at his own expense. the boy that can't let go of the past and whom the past won't let go of either, because even after everything, he's still connected to this great evil that won't let him go. they got it out of him, and yet the tether remains, because of-fucking-course it would.
just—why? why him? why can't anything ever go right with him? why is he always the outlier? i think that overwhelming amount of fear, shame, grief, guilt, exhaustion, and loneliness would wear anyone down, let alone a teenager that never asked for any of it and has experiences so unfathomably unique that the only other people that could have possibly understood are literally dead.
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Heya, I'm not entirely sure how to start this post, it feels a little weird making it at all, but I realised it might be some kind of necessary evil or something like that.
To that anon who sent me those three asks last night (all within the span of a few minutes and the same typing style, so I know they're from the same person), I wanted to reach out to you. I'm not going to sit here and call you names and mock you because that's simply not the kind of person I am, despite the things you said and the assumptions you made. This is going on the idea that you're not a troll stirring drama and just ... someone who had something to say, but wasn't sure how to say it.
I know sometimes that anonymous feature is really tempting, especially when you feel like someone has wronged you and you want to give them a piece of your mind in a very abrupt manner, but it's not a productive way of conversation at all. All it does is upset people (including yourself, because I know in a lot of cases you'll end up refreshing and waiting for some kind of response that you probably won't get).
If you have something you'd like to have a conversation about, you can reach out calmly and maturely and have a genuine conversation with the person instead of sending them messages that they'll likely gloss over and probably even laugh at. I figured you likely won't do it, so I want to reach out and invite you to have a genuine conversation with me, no hard feelings about the asks, I'd just like to get your perspective and clarify on some of the things you've said. You're free to DM me or send me an ask off-anon, since I've blocked your anon asks. This kind of behaviour is genuinely not healthy for anybody and even if you don't reach out, I hope you're able to take some time and reflect on that, take a step back from the intricacies of social media for a bit and go from there.
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Idk i just wanna be held and comforted or some sappy shit. I just wanna feel worthy of affection and know that people actually want me for who I am instead of what I do for them, i don't wanna the back-up friend anymore. I don't wanna reach for shit that isnt even there anymore, like i'm trying to hold onto nothing. And i keep embarrasing myself by trying to start talking with them and they just sit there like . . . They don't care. They're not looking at me, they're just working and waiting for someone else. That's all they do. Tolerate me and always talk with other people. They never fucking needed me and that's ok. I'll cut them off for my sake. I can't keep going back to people who don't care for me when i could have better conversations with gravedirt.
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