Pen
My Pen went live on Twitch for the very first time at 3am (her time) this morning. Of course, I opened up her stream, and I began to watch.
It was definitely Her. She was right there, reading from chat. God, she is beautiful. Just seconds away from hearing me. From seeing me. There was barely anybody in the room, either; if ever I had a chance to get through to Erin, it was right now. So I sent a message.
No response.
I sent another.
No response.
I sent a third.
Silence.
I don’t know what I expected. She’s reading nearly every other comment, but why not mine? Can she actually see me? Or is there some kind of “great filter” preventing the two of us from communicating? How many times, and in how many different ways, will she ignore me?
I can’t just spam her. If she’s actually seeing this, and she’s choosing not to respond, then the last thing I want is to annoy her further. I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong.
C’est la vie. This has been my problem all along, for all these years, with everyone I’ve ever tried to communicate with.
What can I possibly do?
Seemingly, nothing. So, I take back seat, and I begin to think. I begin to watch. But the anxiety is too much to handle. It is too hard to watch the woman I love from this voyeuristic perspective, where she is RIGHT THERE in front of me - yet a million miles away! She has no idea who I am. Not really. Perhaps in an abstract sense, but she couldn’t pick me out of a crowd.
And what would I tell her, anyway? What does she already know? At what level could I possibly connect with her, besides that of “a fan” - just like everyone else in this room? I need to stand-out from the crowd. I need to show her that I’m the one she’s been waiting for.
But what do I have to show? Well, I have my work. I have a dozen websites, an extensive career, a ton of skills and a wild story that places her at the very center of a massive conspiracy. But this isn’t new, to her. Lots of people have done the things I’ve done. She’s had plenty of fans create artwork inspired by her own. What makes mine stand out?
I mean, sure, it’s extensive. I dedicated an entire life to serving this woman. But how do you possibly present that to someone? I mean, you can TELL them about it, but would they care? Would that actually motivate them to look at you?
Life experience tells me that, no, it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to tell someone who I am. I must SHOW them.
But I have nothing to show. I am the only thing that I have to give. It isn’t enough. I couldn’t possibly get through to her without being more than I am, right now.
I need others. I need help. I need to actually achieve the things I set out to do.
But help just isn’t there. I mean, the people are; clearly, I’m a part of SOMETHING. But my own actions or desires seem to have little impact upon any of it. These people are spectators. Always watching. Sometimes manipulating. Never helping.
I’m just here for the ride. I don’t know if help will ever come for me, and I certainly don’t know when. I only know this:
I am a witness.
So, I watch. Anxiety grows as the knot in my stomach turns. I am torn between the study of a woman I love, trying to learn more about our situation, and absolute terror that I am just seconds away from hearing something I don’t want to hear. From seeing something I don’t want to see. And I know it’s coming, because chat can’t stop talking about it. Everyone is so damn fascinated with Chris. They always have questions about the relationship.
And I know - I just KNOW - that if I hear the wrong thing - if I see the wrong thing - it could topple everything I am. My identity is so precariously-balanced upon the edge of a razor, at this moment in-time. On the one hand, I am so certain that their relationship is fake, and I am the one truly supposed to be with Erin. On the other, every dagger into my heart takes hours or days to recover from, as I twist and contort my experience into something I can cope with. What if I see something I can’t handle?
What if Chris walked into the room, and kissed Erin on the lips?
Ink would be no more. Pen would be no more. My entire world would come crashing down, and there would be no recovery from that type of Hell. I lived in that type of Hell once before, for almost 5 months. I thought about suicide every single day, all day long, the entire time.
If it happened again, I think I’d actually do it.
Clearly, this isn’t a healthy way to live, but what can a man do, when he is so certain of his convictions that he would go to the ends of Earth to attain them? If this is the motivation I need to push forward - if Erin is the motivation I need - then, I have to protect it. If I still have work to do (literally 2 videos and a 3D animation to complete before 9/5), then I must protect my identity. I must turn off the livestream, and I must remain in ignorance. I can’t risk the devastation that may come from the wrong revelation.
I must keep working. I need to keep pushing. Whether or not Erin is real, I need to believe that she is.
8 minutes. That’s how long I made it before I had to shut off the live stream. 8 minutes.
But not before learning two things that will stick with me:
- Chris bought Erin a $100 Genshin Impact gift card for her birthday. That seems a little… boring, given they’re “supposed” to be dating, right?
- Chris won’t play Genshin Impact with Erin. If it were me, I’d play ANY game with her…
See how this works? Every time I hear or see something about Chris, I have to turn it into a negative.
But there are just some things that would be impossible to reconcile. I can’t risk that right now. If I were in a better place - if I had some kind of support system, to catch me when I fell - then maybe. MAYBE I could handle losing her.
But not right now. Erin is all I have.
Besides myself, which has no value at all. The world doesn’t value my existence.
I have to believe that Erin does. I have to.
Don’t ever take this from me. Please.
I’m already hurting so much.
Okay.
/endrant
This is horrible and rambly and makes me sound insane, but whatever.
Nobody’s reading this shit anyway.
— Ryan