You're not gonna get an answer from me, dude. Either confront Jack or Angel about it or let it go, because you're clearly going to go insane if you stay stuck on it.
If it's not a deal breaker, then take a long hard look at what you're signing up for and if you can stand finding out more shit like this in the future. I don't doubt Jack has more shit like that he's keeping from you just because it probably doesn't occur to him that it's something that he should share.
I mean, personally I wouldn't go into marriage with someone that I feel like I'm ready to drop like a fucking rotten potato at the first sign of an incoming shitshow.
(I've been purposely forgetting about that because I fucking HATE being an illegal again. It was bad enough those two months between Arcadia and here.)
I hate how complicated and fucked up this is. Everything was easier when I could just. Fuck. I don't know. Adore him, I guess.
Are his fiance. And despite your circumstances, a hopeless romantic. This is the most critical you've ever been to my face about Jack and you're still trying to defend him.
Look, I wasn't planning on making it a repeat with him. I wasn't even planning on staying the night. But the thought of sleeping at HQ gave me hives and he'd been fun and one thing led to another and, look, you don't know what it's like, being like me and never having *anyone* who understood until him.
And just because I fell in love with the first man ever to want me for the violent, vicious predator that I *am* doesn't mean I'm a hopeless romantic. It means I like being liked for *me*. Doesn't everyone like being liked for themselves?
Just because I liked doing all that sappy shit with him and it makes me feel so good the rare times I can give him things (instead of the other way around) and it always gave me a pleasant shiver down my spine every time Hythlo used to call him my 'husband' before I even asked him to get married and I deliberately asked him to on our six month anniversary so we could get married on our year anniversary and--
Fuck.
FUCK.
I hate you, Tyler. I fucking hate you. My fucking GOD.
This was why I swore off love. Fuck. I'm as bad as Charley. I only have two modes: forget their names by morning and draw little hearts with our initials on them in the margins of my notes. I fucking HATES this.
I'll stop being right when you stop being predictable.
Everything might have been easier before, but your rose-tinted glasses weren't letting you see the blood on his hands. I know you knew it objectively, but suddenly it's personal and now the glasses crack and there's no going back to how it was before.
Just be careful, I guess. You're a big boy but I'd still rather not hear you got dead because of him too.
I'm *going* to be careful, okay? I am well fucking aware what a delicate solution this is.
I'm talking to Lydia about it too. Because I owed her an apology and a half. Six months ago she tried to tell me that Jack was taking advantage of my feelings and I didn't listen.
From how you've described it, it doesn't seem like active manipulation as much as it just didn't occur to Jack to tell you for some reason or another. Why would he, really, when he's got someone so ready to stroke his ego with no prompting.
[He's not trying to be nasty about it; for Tyler this is a very matter of fact way of putting it. If he was mad he'd be making it a personal attack on Steven.]
(But you're right that it was far more Jack taking advantage than actively manipulating me, but somehow I don't think qualifying that will make people any less willing to throw down with him over me. Which is fucking appalling and I don't know why they think I'm worth it.)
I wouldn't. Not that you're not worth it, but I've been staying neatly out of your psychopath fiance's lane for a reason and I don't plan on breaking my streak for something you can solve yourself, for all intents and purposes.
Yes, well, you're more sensible than your girlfriend *and* Thace, the second of which literally threatened to personally murder him for me while Lydia would have just sent her pokemon after him.
(Thace being that one guy I fought on the opening night of Fight Club. The seven-foot-tall handsome one whose pokemon made that video where they covered him in eggs. We've been friends since Sinnoh.)
I doubt Lydia would follow through until/unless you've apologised to her for earlier. I barely know Thace, it's not like he goes by the actual alcohol much for me to see him, but you should inform him it won't work on multiple levels.
I'm in the process of apologizing and she's in the process of advising me to dump him and I'm thinking really hard about how if I did I'd want to be very careful and not super rash about it. And she did offer to sic her pokemon on him if I needed her to and I said no.
And I already explained to Thace why murdering Jack is a bad idea that would just make me sad and accomplish nothing but making him mad.
Well, if anyone knows how to play a long game, it's definitely you. I barely use my apartment above the club if you need somewhere to hide or crash, Football has a spare set of keys.
I think what I might end up doing is bringing my own things over to your place a few at a time--nothing I can't just smuggle in through my briefcase--so that if/when I make my exit, I can just go, you know?
I'm also wondering if it's worth trying to fake the Sleep Of Temporarily Going Home in order to *have* a good excuse for leaving him that's not 'I went behind your back to ask things about your past and found out you did something unconscionable.'
11/21 (late at night) - cw: child abuse, suicide, the works
The only thing that *didn't* make it Munchausen's-by-proxy is that he was drugging/poisoning Angel to enhance her special powers, not to make people think she was an invalid. And coupled with all this, he *was* isolating her. It was the full fucking Rapunzel. The only method of communication she had with anyone outside her was the fucking space internet.
Jesus fucking Christ. I don't think I want him to touch me.
I'm at Armin's place. I came to do his gym? I meant to be there a month ago, but then the whole boobies incident happened, which lead to all this in the first place.
Anyway. Angel gave him permission to tell me and he told me and God, Tyler, it's *so* fucked up. I'm leaving. I can't stay. I'm going to buy some time to figure out how to do this without him destroying my things that I haven't moved over to my room at the base yet or sending me to the Pokecenter by faking that I went home and am asleep for a week, but whether or not I have a solution for that come next Sunday, I am getting the fuck out.
And I am definitely taking you up on your offer of letting me use your old apartment. Thank you.
I'm genuinely impressed by your horrible taste in men.
Seriously though, most of my stuff is either packed or already gone, so feel free to stay as long as you need. On the caveat that I get the bed back when I'm working a late shift.
I'm not going to ask about Jack, so please don't make any snide passive aggressive comments about him to me. I don't want to get involved any more than you already publicly claiming me as one of your best friends in case he retaliates or something. [Tyler doesn't think for a moment that someone who gleefully murders entire planets worth of people would blink twice at doing it to a single person in his way.]
Use Acatl to teleport large things and tell Jack you're rearranging furniture, maybe buy something new as a cover while you clear your shit out.
And I thought *Charley* had terrible taste in men. Jack makes all those creeps who thought she was their Manic Pixie Dream Girl look like *saints*.
... sorry, right, you don't want to hear about him. But the bit about Acatl is *clever*. Mostly it's just my recording set-up I'm loathe to give up and the things in my ghost basement. Jack rarely goes into the room I use for recording and he never goes into the ghost basement... so really it was the recording things, which in my defense are *expensive*. The problem was just taking out things that *aren't* fairly inconspicuous and can't be (and weren't already) smuggled out in my briefcase.
But thank you. And of course you'll have the bed back. I don't mind taking the couch on those nights.
Page 33 of 34