Leaving - Blog Posts
I’m not crying... I just got something in my.... Oh man this freaking sad and beautiful and sad and heartbreaking and sad.
I’ll write a fic of this someday... but first.
*Starts to cry*
how do you think Lightning will react about if Sally dies suddenly ? I'm feeling a little down right now
Oh…. oh. Wow. Okay.
Well I hope you feel better soon, anon. I don’t know if this will help or make it worse, but I hope somehow it helps you out.
Everyone thought he took Doc’s death hard. That was nothing compared to this. When they heard the news, he started screaming and swearing, completely turning into someone else the townsfolk had never seen.
He just leaves town without saying a word. He can’t take seeing it without her. She was the one who really made him appreciate it to begin with.
No one sees him for three or four days, no one knows where he went. Turns out, he drove up into the mountains and just sat in isolation while he mourned her. He couldn’t bear being around anyone.
He makes it back for the funeral, but doesn’t speak. Everyone is trying to provide what comfort they can, but it’s like talking to a brick wall. She was his life. Nothing, not even his racing career, was as significant as her.
Afterwards, he spends a lot of time at her grave. They buried her near Doc. He tries to talk to her to ease his conscience, but he can’t say anything without breaking back into into sobs.
He tries to find someone to blame for his pain, but can’t. He can’t control his thoughts and goes back and forth between being vehemently angry and unbearably anguished.
He’s torn between leaving Radiator Springs for good and staying. It all reminds him of her, and it’s painful. But at the same time he knows she’d want him to take care of it now that both she and Doc were gone.
He never goes to visit Wheel Well again. He can’t even look at it. He still supports and manages the operation, but he’ll never go back. He makes a point not to look at it if he has to drive by it. That was sacred ground for them as a couple. It’ll never be the same.
He treats the Cozy Cone motel similarly, although he still stays there. He hires on an old friend to keep it running so he doesn’t have to do it himself. Going into the office was hard to take. All the decor was still as she’d left it.
A couple weeks later, Mater finally gets him to talk. He doesn’t respond much, but it’s an improvement. Mater doesn’t push him, but he does say something that strikes a chord with Lightning. “Forgetting her won’t make it [the pain] go away.”
Lightning was given similar advice when Doc died, and he knew that he needed to honor her in a similar manner. He decided that he wasn’t going to leave town. That town was her everything, and if that’s all he had left of her besides memories, he was going to do whatever he could to support it.
Later on, he tries to focus more on racing, but it’s not quite the same. He still does well, but he finds himself pushing himself to the limits a lot more and thinking a lot less. It’s not a good strategy, and his eager spirit is just gone. He misses seeing her there in the pits waiting for him.
It takes several months for things to return to any degree of normality. The town is still much quieter, as Sally’s bubbly, optimistic personality isn’t there to supplement it anymore, but everyone at least functions again.
Lightning eventually remembers how to enjoy himself and have fun again. He spends more time with the other members of the town and even with his racing buddies. He’s gotten to a point where he can think about her and not feel overwhelmed by her absence. There’s still a void in his soul, but it’s one he intends to keep, in memory of her.
I might be moving to Montana, WHAT DO I DO?!
Don’t you ever just want to run away from everything. People, Everyone. Just get into your car and never return. You the open road and a Guns N’ Roses Album blasting on the stero. I want to just up and leave the terrible town. Go to California and do crazy things. Stand on the top of the Empire State Building and pretend to howl like a wolf. Or maybe start a band in the back of a person house. John Green should write a book about my life.
-I need a biopic about my life
Unrequited Love: Kenma
Kenma Kozume had never been good with change.
He liked things predictable. Safe. Video games had taught him that if he kept his strategy consistent, if he memorized the patterns and played smart, he could survive anything. Life was just another game to him—one where he preferred to stay in the background, keep things stable, and avoid unnecessary risks.
But nothing about this felt stable. Nothing about this felt safe.
Because you were leaving.
Kenma sat on the floor of your apartment, legs crossed, a cardboard box in his lap. Around him, the room looked smaller than it used to, packed with boxes stacked high, shelves stripped of their usual clutter. The air smelled like old books, packing tape, and a faint trace of your perfume, and for the first time since he had known you, your space didn’t feel like home anymore.
Maybe because it wasn’t. Not for much longer.
You had been a part of his life for so long that he barely remembered what it was like before you. Since childhood, you had been there—first as a quiet presence at his side in elementary school, then as the only person who could sit with him for hours, gaming in comfortable silence. You never questioned the way he was, never pushed him to be anything other than himself. And as the years passed, you became his constant, his safe place, his person.
And now, you were leaving.
“So, you’re really going, huh?” His voice was quiet, neutral, but even he could hear the strain in it.
You looked up from where you were sorting through a pile of miscellaneous things—old letters, tangled earbuds, random trinkets you had shoved into drawers over the years. You smiled, but it was the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. It’s happening.”
Kenma’s fingers curled around the edges of the box. He had known about this for weeks now, ever since you told him about the job opportunity in another city. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. He had told himself it wouldn’t change anything. That you would still text him, call him, visit when you could.
But now, with everything packed up and your walls bare, the reality of it all settled like a weight in his chest.
He had never thought about a life where you weren’t here. Where he couldn’t just send a message and have you show up at his door an hour later with takeout, where you weren’t sitting beside him on his couch, watching him play through whatever new game he was obsessed with that week. Where you weren’t just…
Here.
You sighed and flopped onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “I’m kind of freaking out,” you admitted, voice light, almost playful. “New place, new people, new job. It’s exciting, but also terrifying.”
Kenma swallowed. He should say something. Something encouraging, something that made it sound like he was happy for you, like he wasn’t falling apart inside.
“You’ll be fine.”
You turned your head to look at him, and for a second, he thought you could see right through him. That you could tell he was barely keeping it together. But then you smiled—soft, familiar, warm.
“Thanks, Ken.”
He nodded, looking away. He focused on the box in his lap, on the way his hands clenched the cardboard just a little too tightly.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He had never needed to say anything before. He thought you just knew—that you had always known. That there was no rush, no deadline, no moment where he would run out of time. Because you were always here.
But now, you weren’t going to be.
And Kenma realized, too late, that he had never even given himself a chance.
The packing took hours, and Kenma stayed through all of it. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be, and he didn’t want to be anywhere else, anyway. He helped you sort through things, separate what you were keeping from what you were leaving behind. Every item had a story, a memory attached to it. The hoodie he had lent you once and never got back. The game controller he had bought for you so you could play co-op with him. The tiny cat figurine you had won at a festival and insisted looked just like him.
All these little things that made up you.
All these little things that reminded him of what he was losing.
He wasn’t good with words. He never had been. He wasn’t like Kuroo, who could charm his way through anything, or Bokuto, who could wear his heart on his sleeve without fear. Kenma had always been quiet, reserved, hesitant. But when it came to you, his feelings were loud, screaming inside him, demanding to be acknowledged.
But he had never said anything.
Because what if he did, and you left anyway? What if it changed everything? What if losing you as a friend hurt worse than losing you to distance?
“You should take this,” you said at one point, holding out an old, well-loved game case. “We never finished it together.”
Kenma stared at it, then at you. “Then take it with you.”
“I don’t have my console anymore. Sold it.” You grinned sheepishly. “New city, new start.”
His grip tightened on the game. He didn’t like that answer. He didn’t like any of this. He had never been an emotional person, but right now, something bitter sat at the back of his throat, something wrong.
You were leaving. You were letting go of all these things, of this life, of him—and you were acting like it was just something that had to happen.
Kenma had spent years convinced he had all the time in the world. But time was up. And for the first time, he didn’t know what to do about it.
It was late by the time everything was packed. The apartment looked empty now, stripped of everything that made it yours. You stretched, yawning, then turned to him with an expression that was far too casual for what this moment felt like.
“This is it, huh?” You nudged his arm lightly. “One last night before I go.”
Kenma’s stomach twisted. He forced himself to nod. “Yeah.”
“Hey.” You tilted your head, watching him. “Are you okay?”
No. No, he wasn’t. Because this wasn’t fair. Because he should have said something sooner. Because he didn’t know how to deal with the fact that tomorrow, you wouldn’t be here anymore.
“Yeah.”
You frowned, unconvinced, but you let it go. Instead, you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Kenma stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, before his body reacted on instinct, arms lifting to hold you back just as tightly.
“I’m gonna miss you, Ken.”
The words hit him harder than he expected. He closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing, trying to memorize this—the feel of your arms around him, the warmth of you against his chest, the way your head fit perfectly against his shoulder. Trying to ignore the aching thought that this might be the last time.
He wanted to say don’t go. Wanted to tell you to stay, that you didn’t have to leave, that he—
But he didn’t.
Instead, he whispered, “Me too.”
And he held on for as long as he could.
Darling, none of this is your fault. They pushed you to the edge. It's okay to run from here. To start fresh. It's gonna hurt, but my love, it won't hurt forever. You fight to make it to the next day, and you feel like there's no future for yourself. You shouldn't feel the need to contemplate ending your life. You deserve to run. Run as far as possible, and don't look back until your lungs hurt and your legs are wobbling. Run until you can't hear the screams and tears of those you once looked fondly over. You shouldn't be tied to your abuse. You've tried to wait it out and change them. You can't.
Leave my love. Leave in silence if you have to. Just leave ♥️
I'm gonna make it far away from here. They won't stop me.
On leaving or dying
sleep on the floor - the lumineers / fast car - trace chapman / this year - the mountain goats / ghosts - the head and the heart / roll away your stone - momford & sons / keys in the car - jukebox the ghost / i am disappeared - frank turner / twin size mattress - the front bottoms / maps for the getaway - andrew mcmahon / this town ain’t big enough for the one of me - frank turner / land locked blues - bright eyes / go farther in lightness - gang of youths / everything i own - the front bottoms
i wish i were better at goodbyes.
yesterday was the last time i'm going to see you for a while, if not forever. not that i don't want to see you anymore - quite the contrary, you were (are) the biggest reason for me to wake up in the mornings. but now i'm leaving and you'll be gone, and i'll miss you. so so much. hell, i missed you when we said goodbye at the end of the day and i watched you making your way to the subway station, even with the knowledge that you'd text me that evening, to wish me a good night and that i'd see you the next morning, in school. these three months will be hell, and the years after, even more.
and what upsets me the most is the fact that we didn't even say goodbye. we stood there, awkwardly, in the middle of the volleyball field, with my best friend by my side and your girlfriend by yours and we just looked at each other.
you smiled. i tried to, but i had to turn my head so you wouldn't see me crying. i looked at you with tears in my eyes and you said "don't" softly, and that made me want to cry more. i said "yeah", and you smiled again, said "well", and waved. i nodded. you turned, took her hand, and left.
i started crying.
that wasn't a goodbye. that was an awkward standing contest, with your girlfriend as the judge. i could tell she was so annoyed because she had to be there. and i wanted to ask you for a hug, but i didn't have the courage. not while she was there. i don't want to be a problem, even though i probably am at this point.
i wish we could have said our goodbyes in the hall. just the two of us. you could have played brahms for me. i could have given you a hug and cried on your shoulder while you comforted me. that would have been a goodbye.
instead i just stood there in the middle of the volleyball field until i was hit on the head by a volleyball.
it was raining. the sky was crying with me.
i wish you were better at goodbyes.
Oscar talking about Logan I’m gonna cry I need Logan sargeant back and I need James vowel dead
Wistfulness.
Isn't it like so ironical, how we hurt someone at first without any intention to, just because we want to live better. But then, their absence deters your life from the "live better" path. All you can do is look at them from a distance, while they're laughing, making the jokes they once made with you, smiling that absolutely beloved smile, the same smile that falters when you come closer. How could you say that you don't love them? When you're out here, looking at every unconscious action of theirs: head shakes, leaning backwards slightly, posture, jumping down, walking in a particular pattern, absolutely absolutely honey-melted smiles (which no longer belong to you). You long for all that comfort, all those smiles, all that happiness to be directed at you again, because tell me, it did leave a gaping hole right in the center of your heart when they finally went away, didn't it? A void which I suppose cannot be filled with anything except their love all over again, but you cover it. With the little of conscience you have left, how could you long for them? You were the one who hurt them in the first place, then how could you, in all your selfishness, look at them so wistfully. You don't deserve it, do you? You don't deserve the pureness and sweet bliss of their soul again, even with its faults and twistedness. Why do you so desperately want to redo everything, do it differently, do it softly WHEN you said that your choice was "thought of", to do it the way you did, with no possible explanation; is it because you want the life you had before, or do you want them back? You wonder if it's the whispers of those around you leading you into this spiral, or your own guilt and love, but it doesn't change the fact that you've fallen, you supposed "angel". You were never a saintess, you are so much worse and with time, when you look in the mirror again, all you can see is what you were running from: A twisted, yearnful, yet so so hurt woman, who's irrevocably lonely. Always, always, ALWAYS.
You’ve been gone for some time
Can’t remember your face
I hear your voice on the wind and brace
For the tears that never come
You leaving has left me quite numb
And I listen to sad songs, cart through conversations
Trying to find even a semblance of emotions
But nothing can wake me up now
You’ve put me to sleep like a child
We haven’t known each other long
But I can’t help but think
Soulmates is what we must have been
We hadn’t talked enough to know the darkest parts of us
But I through if we would have seen it
It wouldn’t’ve crushed our dreaming
Now older sitting here alone
Waiting on you like a ghost
One you’ve turned to way to young
I’m climbing places, growing spines
More than one and I don’t know why
But I assume you’d have been proud
And had you stayed you’d met some people
Ones’ who care for me like you do
Or in my dreams at least you did
And I can feel it growing larger
I can feel myself expanding
Reaching tree-tops, reaching stars
Reaching arms out to grasp yours
No one talks about leaving,
Realizing one day, a day you woke up feeling as if it was going to be any other day, that you no longer love the person the same. The small things you once loved that they put so much effort to go unnoticed. How is it that you woke up and realized you were okay living without them when one day you feared losing them. I think it hurts too, having to tell the person you never planned on being without that things are just not the same and when they ask why, what is there to say? "I woke up on a seemingly normal Wednesday and I realized that you no longer made me feel those puke-worthy butterflies. That I knew I would be okay without you." How do you put that feeling into words? I don't think I will ever be able to give you the answer you deserve and for that I'm Sorry...
new york, new york
grand central smelt of pennies, ticket stubs, and desperation at 5:15 am.
"where're you headed?" the worker asked.
where was he headed? he didn’t realize leaving meant going away. but to go far enough to be folded into memory or far enough to be followed? would his wife search for him?
"connecticut.”
no comment; the worker printed a slip and took his money mechanically.
he needed a congratulations, deserved one for his decision. but who would congratulate a man abandoning his wife?
This painting is already pretty old - it was the result of a short summer school about plankton ecology on a northern german island a couple of years ago. How time flies! About a year ago I (reluctantly) set my foot on Swiss grounds to start my masters at ETH in Zürich. Today I am leaving again, for some months at least - but before its time for new beginnings I want to cherish how much joy and warmth this past year has brought me! One of the many great experiences was certainly ArtSci (https://artsci.ethz.ch/), the first ETH art and science exhibition my friends and I organised this spring. Hans Thierstein was until 2009 full professor of Micropaleontology at ETH and has since then embarked on new creative adventures. Feel free to check out more of his work here - https://www.hansthierstein.ch/! Hans was definitely one of the most involved participants in ArtSci this year, displaying his self-built quatroscope and a series of quatroscopies along with it. Apart from allowing us to display his very interesting artworks, he also actively helped making ArtSci happen whenever our logistics failed - he was just great!! The upper photo was made by him, it is a quatroscopy of my drawing from back at 2016. For me, this is a really nice illustration of how other people help us grow - I am so grateful for all the people that I have met here and elsewhere and for everything they have brought into my life.
Unpopular or popular opinion I really don't care anymore, but:
When people say 'YoU ShOuLdN't ShIp ThIs111'
Its none of you're GODDAMN business what other PERSON should do with a ship. THEY ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. PEOPLE CAN USUALLY FANFICTION, DRAW FANART, AND BE GENUINELY INTERESTED IN THE MEDIA. YOU SHOULDN'T COMPLAIN ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE'S INTERESTS LEAVE THEM ALONE. And you know what's funny? Usually, Most creators of tv shows, web series, books, etc. Don't CARE. SO SHUT UP. IT DOESN'T AFFECT YOU AND IGNORE IT IF IT BOTHERS YOU.
How to destroy a person ?
Love them hard
After that ,
Silently depart