Hi, this is the fic rec anon again. I’m torn between thanking you for reading the story and apologizing for putting it in your orbit. Like the other anon said, this can be an isolating headspace to be in.

In that vein, I wanted to ask you for something, and I’m struggling to say it right. Would you, if/when you have time, read my follow-up story? It’s not nearly as skillful as Shelter Us, it’s my first fiction story. I wrote it in a furor of - idk - obsession, terror, self-preservation, and bleak determination to wrench myself back from the emotional cliff. I think I did alright, but they’re big footsteps to walk in.

It’s really uncomfortable asking. Obviously, there’s the addictive gratification of an artist gaining approval that seems both universal and shameful. But more than that, so much deeper than that, there’s a raw plea for people to tell me the hope I clawed back from the jaws of this story isn’t just a self indulgent fantasy. That a story of healing can be as real as the destruction that preceded it.

And perhaps most intimidating of all, I like to imagine that maybe my hope can be shared. We feel like we’re alone but we’re not. We can’t see each other in the dark, but we’re there.

I want to reach out and grab someone’s hand, offering and taking strength. But how on earth do I do that when my means of expressing myself is wrapped in so many layers of obscurity and horror?

It’s not like I’m going to be able to sit Work Bestie down and say, first we’re going to watch a show where murder and cannibalism are metaphors for love. Then I’m going to explain the HEU and how a mediocre movie is somehow the best portrayal of the emotional isolation that comes from being forced to mask in exchange for affection. Then an even more mediocre movie where the best part is the antagonist who appears for a grand total of seven minutes. Then you’re going to read a gut punch of a story where the characters I’ve asked you to love and empathize with all brutalize each other. THEN you’ll be ready to understand what I’m trying to tell you about my emotional state.

How the hell?

But you’ve gotten to step 4 out of 5. I don’t have to pull you into my world, you got here on your own, and I am starved to the bone for company.

You don’t know me, you don’t owe me anything. Just getting this far is a lot to invest emotionally on the word of an internet stranger. But I have to ask. I have to ask every time I get a chance like this. Maybe the fear of asking is part of the work. I don’t know. I’m still just stumbling forward.

Either way, thank you again.

Please, never feel ashamed to ask validation on your art. It’s something we all crave. I read it. I found your ending much more satisfying. The ending of the original story made me sick to my stomach, even though it is the more “realistic” one, unfortunately. So thank you for rewriting it in my head, something had been haunting me, but it has been replaced with your story <3.