This story is a sequel to Wait For Me To Come Home
Berry punch circled a date on her calendar a long time ago, and now she can't stop thinking about it. It's not a nice date to remember, and not one she even wants to acknowledge. But she also knows that, when that day comes, she's going to feel like everything has changed for her. It will take someone who loves her deeply to give her some perspective on it all.
WARNING: Contains discussions on sickness and dying, depressing themes, the name 'Anon' and bland pasta. Death tag for morbid discussion only.
This story is part of the Broken Love series, but can be enjoyed without reading previous parts.
Art done by Torifeather, go give them some love.
Chapters (1)
I wish I could say that the bland pasta was the worst part. :C
Why her!? Me no like
ow my feels
Another Jolly fi.......well not jolly but...shutting up now...
(Basically another great story to add to my mind to read.....keep up the amazing work X3)
Thank you, pencil.
These stories are always very touching and in a different way than many others.
I
you, too.
Thank you for sharing your writing with us.
Such a good series, every single part.
Define "enjoyed".
jk I love it
Another wonderful addition to this marvelous series. I think I read somewhere once that love helps those in failing, struggling health to live longer. Not for any sort of "I have to live for them" way, but just... love, healthy love, helps.
I'm happy that Berry and Anon have that love. Sure, their date's are coming, as sure a clock marches forward or as the world turns. But maybe they can not only push that date out of their mind, but further away.
i love you
Dammit. I wish I wrote half as good as you do.
I
these Berry stories. They are the weirdest mixture of cute and depressing, and they are perfect in every way.
As someone with Crohn's Disease, I would just like to say this is my life.
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I have GERD and IBS among other things. I feel ya.
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Right back at ya.
Being strapped into a medical rollercoaster sure is exciting tho. The ride literally never ends.
And I've learned something today: GERD is called GORD in the UK, due to a difference in the spelling of a single word. The moar u know....
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Do you have another one in the works or is this just where it ends?
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There will be more. Absolutely, I can promise that.
Anonpencil you are a pedantic monster of bittersweet tragicomedy on par with nothing less that classic scale (this coming from a junior professor of history no less). You've managed to encapsulate the sheer visceral emotional maelstrom of not just chronic illness, but of terminal illness as well. Ex: The mania of the freedom of knowing you will die vs the abject existential horror of that same realization, the vacillation betwixt trying to milk every last moment for what it's worth vs hoping & planning for a future that may never come. For the especially vivid deconstruction of fully knowing that one's own damnation & salvation are both completely irrational, I must both compliment & curse you (for forcing me to face such an uncomfortable truth). In short, this chapter alone is a freight train of feels a kin to an entire season of Bojack Horseman that leaves one with a sense of desperate hope amid a torrent of sadness & anger. My only criticism, is that you fell to a number of common grammar & spelling errors which is not unusual given the heavily emotional nature of the piece. However, I would like to offer you my services as an editor to perform a set of suggested corrections for those more trivial details. I would hate for such a powerful work to be marred by such small things. Furthermore, I would consider it a great honor if you accepted this offer. If not, I will not be offended as all writing, but especially this writing, is incredibly personal. With joyful trepidation, I look forward to the rest of your Broken Love series. ~Most Sincerely, Capn. Seidon
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I appreciate your kind words, I do, but I am deeply uninterested in an editor for this series. Thank you for the offer.
Completely understandable. Also, thank you once more for continuing this series!
I like Anon's moxie and spirit.