So my name is Joey White and I’m a very pasty pale British white guy at uni overseas. So I was introducing myself and this guy from Nigeria goes “Hi, I’m Joseph” so I said, “I’m a Joseph too! Joseph White.” Then he looked me in the eye and said in a dead serious tone “I’m Joseph Brown” and we nearly died.
oh dear god
It wasn’t until a week after the funeral, when she was back on a recovering Berk, and Drago was defeated by a furious Toothless, and Stoick, and Berk and herself (absolutely, herself). It wasn’t until days after the unanticipated screaming fit she threw, and after her throat finally cleared and her breathing eased and her eyes were no longer in that uncomfortable too-dry/too-wet state, that Astrid smelled it.
I want people to pay attention to me and comfort me when I need it, yet I can never make myself open up or accept comfort. All I want is a hug or to snuggle with someone and tell them everything, but I never can bring myself to do it for fear of them betraying me.
And never once has any one of my friends or family members asked what’s going on or offered me any form of comfort. They seem to have gotten used to me shutting myself away that they won’t try comforting me again; thus reinforcing my thinking of keeping to myself.