In three days, I will have 7 years clean from opiates including heroin. I've actually been talking about it quite a bit on Tildes recently due to a lot of mental health threads popping up, but outside of this forum, I don't really think or talk about my previous life very often. For me, putting that life in the rearview and disengaging from the recovery community was the best way to stay clean.

However, around anniversaries, I usually take a bit of time to reflect. I consider where I was, where I am now, how I got there, and how I got here. I think about how different my life is now that I have an amazing career, a house, a wife, and a beautiful infant son.

This anniversary, I've been thinking about the Siren's song, the Faustian bargain, the devil in a dress. In other words, I've been thinking about how enticing false promises can be.

I think back to when I had my hydrocodone prescription for a knee injury right around the time I started partying pretty hard - toward the end of high school and early college. The people I started hanging out with were incredible to me. They were early in their addictions, so they were on top of the world. They had jobs, cars, unlimited drugs, and were surrounded by attractive women. They had zero side effects from their drug use and were living a crazy lifestyle that looked more fun than anything I'd ever imagined. They worked all day to pay the bills and sold small amounts of drugs to fund their own habits - use half, sell half at a party. Easy. This was when I started incorporating hydrocodone into my partying routine. I knew I liked opiates, but I didn't know you could be high all the time with zero consequences. (Spoiler alert, you can't. You all know where this is going).

Soon after, I became the guy I thought I wanted to be. I was the one who was carrying around a pharmacy in my backpack and was able to get my hands on any drug you can think of. I had a hundred friends and a million buddies. I was dating and having sex with women who I felt were "out of my league." I was getting my degree, and I was having a ton of fun pretty much every single day and night. When I look back at photos from this time in my life, I still have a hard time believing it was real. I have stories for days. Insane, amazing, hilarious stories. These were some of the best times of my life in many ways. At the time, I wanted it to last forever and thought maybe it could. This was the Siren's song working its magic. I was trapped by this point.

This lasted longer than you'd think. But eventually, I started experiencing withdrawal when I wasn't high. Then I had to start going on more and more "side quests" to get money for drugs since I could no longer satiate the craving by selling half and keeping half. I noticed that the people I once looked up to weren't doing so hot. A few of them overdosed, a few of them got arrested, and a few packed their bags to get away and get clean. My friends either got into drugs with me or distanced themselves.

Things started getting really dark after college. Now I was getting high alone most of the time and the parties were fewer and farther between. Things got really really dark when I was doing crazy shit like driving from NY to Texas without sleeping and buying black tar heroin. I often found myself in the open-air drug market in my city buying drugs at 4 in the morning from people with guns, found myself stealing pills from loved ones, started selling my belongings, crashed two cars, lost three jobs, etc. You get the picture.

If anyone has ever wondered why addicts go to such great lengths to get high, it's mostly because withdrawal is the most unpleasant thing you could ever imagine. Movies and TV don't even begin to show how unbearable it really is. Imagine a full body flu, kicking, shaking, puking and wishing you were dead. But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that your brain literally can't produce happy chemicals, so you can't feel a sliver of happiness or optimism. You can't even remain logical about the situation. Your brain is telling you that life is meaningless and without joy for now and for always unless you get high. Between that and the physical symptoms (both of which last weeks/months) it's way too easy to use the panic button and take a hit, which instantly makes everything beautiful and wonderful again.

I look at my life now and I cannot believe how fortunate I was/am. I managed to escape that hell with no felonies, no diseases, and few long-term consequences. This good luck allowed me to move on and build a better life with fewer obstacles than most. I feel immense sadness for the many others who weren't so fortunate. I can name 10 people I knew personally from those years that ended up losing their lives to fentanyl. I can name many more who have criminal records that make them hard to employ. I know that, of those of us who got clean, there are at least a handful that will continue to struggle, relapse, and possibly die. It's hard to imagine how something that makes you feel so unbelievably good can leave a pile of bodies in its wake.

I tell this story because I have been thinking about three interesting memories/concepts lately:

1. The Siren's Song - something that seemed pure and beautiful was the worst thing to ever happen to me.

2. The incubation period of addiction - this early phase where you found something you love and you want everyone to experience it. This is when addicts are the most dangerous I think. This is when they hook their friends and loved ones by demonstrating to others that they too can manage this amazing life just fine with no consequences. Like a virus, I was already infected and contagious, but since I wasn't showing symptoms, people didn't know to stay away from me.

3. A conversation I had with my drug counselor when I first got clean. I was beating myself up, telling her I blamed myself because I knew better than to get hooked on drugs. She got very serious and said to me, "Stop. Don't ever say that again. You didn't know. You might have heard, but you didn't know. I've seen hundreds of addicts, and none of you knew what you were getting into. If you had known, you wouldn't have done it. Simple as that."

I don't have any deep insights or points to make - just reflecting and wanted to open the floor for discussion. Have any of you ever had any experiences with a Siren's song?

I'm 23 years old. I live a life of luxury—as far as a child is concerned, at least: free to do as I wish, see whom I wish, eat what I wish; play and dance with little material worry. In truth I am rather serious, far from carefree, and not landed or established, but I have designed my life for ease. As I said: a child's dream.

I seem to feel myself slipping. I have regrets now. Several. I believe I have eroded my ethos, my morality; whether consciously or not, I am not exactly sure. I think I am losing something of myself but I don't know what or how. It is as if every day I forget who I am and transform, an atom at a time, into a man I once specifically sought not to become: someone careless, distant, and self-centered.

An outside observer would say that I have had a generally profitable and worthwhile year, and I can't dispute that. However, I think I am spiritually lost, or emotionally lost, and certainly romantically lost, though I have never not been romantically lost. I'm writing now because I am ill, literally and physically but mostly interpersonally, and I have failed to make an appearance in my social circles for the better part of a month, excepting for a few disasters. I do have a professional counselor, but we haven't spoken in weeks. I've reached the point where I've lost both motivation and literal energy to do even the simplest exercise, I cannot cook anything beyond the absolute bare minimum, I feel my work has suffered, I have been almost bedridden for several days, my purpose seems unclear. I am very lovely when I have visitors, but it has strained me recently, and unfortunately I will have more very soon. I am as lovely as I can be when I must leave my home. I will also have to reappear socially in less than a day, which I am dreading.

I can only really talk about my emotions if I lay them out in anecdotes, real experiences but their form taking whatever mood I am in, so here are a few. What do I do here?

In the summer I was whisked to a faraway place, somewhere I had never been. Greener, quieter, hillier, more remote. By the sea; a place with history, but not mine. I was a guest, well-honored, and I found the fine gentlemen and ladies of the court—as it were—to take great interest in me. Flattered, complimented, pampered, invited, smiled upon, oh! So young in this society of elders, so lauded, so respected: I was golden, awash in warmth and welcome, though ego also. I smiled back, I laughed courteously, I bowed politely and nodded, I danced when it was suitable, and I dined and drank respectably.

Many friends though I had, none were there; though some there were those I knew, none were friends; a rare few came close, still they were strangers yet. But ha! My reputation preceded me! A young man I had met once, my equal (and, now, as I know, my greater), learning of my arrival, took it upon himself to show me the ropes of the ship and keep me in good company of her officers and crew, especially those as young as me. We chatted of fine things, snickered of less fine things; we drank very much, we toiled in our work at court; and, oh, I had made a dear friend. A gentleman truly; gentle indeed, kind, thoughtful; soft-spoken, a voice calming and delightful, a presence safe and trustworthy. An angel of this land I strayed into, though he reserved that term for another (he, too, is an angel). Surely I would have survived without his guidance, but he made it worthwhile.

One eve in society I espied a young woman about my age. She too was a guest, well-honored, and found that all the fine gentlemen and ladies of the court were pleased with her. But how could this be? I had been introduced to everyone in the palace. I knew of my contemporaries, their kingdoms and lands, their titles and pedigree and accolades! Who was this woman, unknown but clearly so skillful? I watched as she entertained the whole attendance, laser-focused, dexterous and determined. I was in awe.

Hair almost black as night with perfectly rounded brows; smiling always, brightly expressive: a face so beautiful you could not contain yourself. She dressed quaintly but boldly, observing tradition but disregarding convention. Upon her bronze cheeks there lay the most intense dimples I had ever seen. O Father in Heaven! A gift to me! She was uncommonly striking, and not just because she was a stranger. I was surprised; I restrained my infatuation. I must speak to her, I thought. I would like another friend.

• I, nobly: "You were wonderful tonight. I enjoyed watching you before the court."
• She, politely: "I enjoyed watching you as well."

We stood in the earshot of her appointed guides, and within that of mine, and so we knew to keep our spark civil. For now.

Time passed and we continued to meet, always visible, always on good behavior. She was from my home country, a beacon in this foreign land, metropolitan in taste like me but rather a country girl at heart. She was older than me, by several years, but I was unbothered. One evening, my dear friend the young man proposed an airing throughout the gardens and toward the new wharf, where there were no fishermen (long gone) but still many things of note. His suggestion was amenable to our whole party, all of whom were eager to feel the salt air and, in the case of moi et ma chère, speak beyond the confines of the court, where we would be free.

• I, intimately: "You might find yourself welcome in my quarters after our reprieve."
• She, dutifully: "Kind sir, that I might, but we have matters to attend to, no? We are here, well-honored, for a purpose."
• I, reassuringly: "Of course, ma chère, we are obliged. But after your performance, after my speech, there is a haven. Our time here comes to an end soon and watchful eyes will look away."
• She, demurely: "If so you say, mon cher. I must see to my education, you know, and my career; it is this world, this court. You can escape petty politics by your good manners, your network, your renown; but I cannot draw on such repute. You come here on wide recommendation and accomplishment, I on determination and fortune."

My friend the young man said later to me: "What of ta chère, my friend? What is she to you, and you to her? Your time dwindles." I said to him, "I have hope. What of yours, dear friend? Your angel; he awaits your beckon as well." We talked as good friends do, and in our brotherhood found solidarity in the nature of our respective romances. I was empowered, and he too, for our lives were brighter when we had such unerring and unassailable friendship.

On the evening before our departure she came to our soirée, which had grown half-private beyond our cohort to include those members of society we deemed engaging, and any who stumbled across us. Across the room she placed herself, our eyes locking every now and then, not too often as to be noticed by others, though I'm sure my friend the young man observed all. Silently transmitting suggestive looks, open-ended messages, we grew more restless, until an excuse was made for her to depart. Some minutes later, oh, by coincidence, I must as well. Ta!

It was all I had hoped and more. This woman was unbelievably attractive in character and feature. We had a chemistry I had rarely seen. She confided in me beforehand her reluctance because I was young. But she was young too! I thought her my peer. It's not like this was new to me. She had found me the object of her desires this whole season, obsessed just as I had, but on her better judgment refrained just as I had from exhibiting too much outward favoritism. I assured her that I wanted her and only her in this moment; she reiterated the same. She had been withholding an intense physical attraction. She wanted me and only me in this moment; she was ravenous, all but insatiable, full of life and love, and wanted me to control her. We were a pair; it was exhilarating, ecstatic, exhausting; dynamic and visceral and incredible. She was very gratified by the end, I too. But then it was over and we returned to our home castles.

Not many weeks after our goodbye, we had occasion to say hello again, fleetingly and unexpectedly. It was just as before: she was so beautiful; we were enraptured. I bought us a room and we slept together: she gave me a gift. I was touched and felt ashamed that I had not thought to bring her one. I resolved to purchase an equal trinket for her, a fine necklace to match her earrings. I have since obtained her gift.

But what did I find myself doing? Nothing. Very little contact; incapable of making my true feelings known, I have made little effort to connect. She was from my home country, yes, but it is a large place, and we could not possibly see each other except when nature or fortune brings us near. At least that is what I have told myself. Is that true? Either way, now I think it is too late. Just days ago I reached out, hoping that we could arrange a visit, but I had done few favors for myself. Though apparently excited to talk to me, she found reason for this to be impossible. I am no fool. If she had wanted it to happen, she knew that I would go to great lengths; and she could too. After our flings I think she sees me as just that: a fling. I worry that I can no longer give her my gift, the necklace, which was not just a trinket but a thank-you and an object of remembrance. But it seems that I am the one left now with remembrance, or at least with the object; two such objects and not one. Soon I fear she will forget me, and perhaps I will forget her, piece by piece until there is nothing left but a wisp of a memory. That would pain me.

In the springtime I had taken to a western retreat, a cabin in a woodland far from my home, by a small lake. I was with others, in society of a kind, but with much privacy.

I met someone there, unexpectedly. She dressed in complicated colors and dyed her hair; her demeanor a startling departure from the personalities I had expected here. She was interesting to me. I could not classify her; but she seemed to know my friends. First I overheard, then we talked: she had been a performer, a teacher, smart and industrious, but here was a learner. So was I. She knew her cocktails and wines and liquors and obscure beers, her philosophy, her history, and all the great works. I admitted a certain attraction to her unusual mannerisms; her unabashed, refreshing brusqueness, her contentedness with whom she was as a human being; that she was simply unlike any person I had known, and different from me as well. Yet despite that difference I felt that we could commune. She was older—I could not tell exactly by how much from her person, though it was significant, and from her preferred company I guessed ten or fifteen years. (I did not dare to ask.) One night we looked out at the stars, at the water, and made a connection. We brought it back to the sanctuary of the interior and from then on were linked.

She revealed very soon after in passing that she was autistic. The way she said it suggested she thought I already knew. That possibility had not even entered my mind. I am generally not unobservant. This was a surprise. I almost didn't believe her. I thought, "How? Why consider such things, use such categories? You are just the way you are. I don't care." But I did not say that. I said, "Oh."

Next I saw her, she had expectations. I did not expect anything, at least not romantically, though not for any fault of hers. Not intending to bother anyone in particular, I sought out the romances I desired and accepted the ones I found agreeable, and at the moment we ran into each other, ours was not one of them. I failed, completely and utterly, to communicate my transient and impermanent and superficial nature; my intentions with another woman or more than one. Not only this, but it was obvious; I was not being subtle, for I was drunk on the affection of a particularly sharp woman whom I respected, or I was literally drunk. It was a stark and awkward difference from our interactions before. I was aware of this the whole time but somehow did not detect, or did not care (I am not sure: as I say, I am losing myself) that a boundary had been crossed. One day, as we stood in a field by the mountains, she became very emotional, not contemptuous but upset and extremely critical for reasons I had not anticipated (being so caught up in my own endeavors) but immediately recognized and understood. For an hour, maybe two hours, perhaps more, she explained to me how she was not mad but disappointed, how communication in relationships should work; interrogated me on my behavior and my tendencies; and reminded me what begets trauma. I felt that I was being lectured.

If I am being uncharitable with my phrasing, I ought to reiterate: I deserved a dressing-down. But I did apologize, several times, and I did mean it, resolving to do better, to not seek out such complications among my friends, and to graciously rebuff hopes of complications from others. But I have since failed to do even that; I have only managed to entrap myself in further relationships, further emotional turmoil, and it has all been my fault.

I cannot describe this anecdote. It's not painful (well, not to me), it's just so hopelessly strange, absurd, surreal, ridiculous, narcissistic, and maybe even misogynistic that I can't explain the details. It involves three separate women whom I admire very much and who are also undeniably beautiful, and a lot more emotions than I was prepared for. My role was cartoonishly hedonistic, and I would typically consider it out of character, but after some of what has happened this year... is it out of character anymore? Or am I a different person now?

I don't even know what I'm asking. I just seem to fall into relationship and relationship, none of them ever serious; in some cases I really do try to take it seriously, then it doesn't work out, and I become disillusioned and give up on love again. It's worse in the case (and there are many) that I am the one left behind, rather than it being a truly mutual feeling. I will always respect the wishes of my partner, but wow, does being dumped, ignored, or de-prioritized ever reinforce my tendency toward superficial flings. Where I'm at right now, it just seems so hopeless to consider these things. I am still functional—this is not a cloud of depression that prevents me from cleaning my home or going to work—but the broader reason for cultivating and maintaining relationships has begun to disintegrate.

I see the obvious hypocrisy in wishing for commitment and refusing to provide it myself. As I say, I am slowly turning into a person I despise. This is not supposed to be a whiny thread, and I am not bitter about not getting something I "deserve" (for I deserve nothing), but I am sad that despite all the great fun I can have for a couple days, or even a couple weeks, I cannot create a meaningful lasting romance. What I regret the most is not that things do not work for me, but that I leave a wake of destruction for others as I sail across the water. Every time I engage with someone, they seem to acquire some of my problems, and that makes me feel terrible.

What are your thoughts on romance in RPGs? I'm using the word "romance" here because it's usually what the topic is called. But I think it's too specific and has unwanted connotations with cheeziness. I would prefer the term "attraction", which can also refer to more challenging relationships that might not include sex or even happy endings.

The recent news that Starfield will only feature 4 romance options has fans debating, and before Starfield it was Cyberpunk, Mass Effect, Dragon Age, Skyrim, etc. Each of these games took a slightly different approach to romance and each had their fans and critics. On the one hand, the Witcher 3 had a defined player-character and very few romance options, but the writing was excellent and the romances fairly believable. And then there was Skyrim, where you created your own character and had lots of romance options, but all you needed to do was a fetch quest for your belle/beau and then give them a necklace before living a happily married life of fighting bandits, adopting children and saying the same things to each other ad nauseam every day for eternity. But even Skyrim's romance had a certain charm to it. At least you got to live with your partner, build a house, have a family and go hunting together...

I fully understand the viewpoint that gamers would rather have fewer options if they are deep than more numerous janky options. We're yet to see what Starfield's execution will be like, but even if they have done a good job with it, I can't help feeling a little disappointed that there are so few options in such a massive game. I fully understand how difficult it would be to have more options and still make the romances compelling, but I think this should be strived for, rather than just given up as too hard.

Of all the big entertainment media (movies, TV, books, etc.), games are understandably way behind when it comes to romance. It's either rarely implemented or implemented poorly because technically it is very difficult. Yet it's often a major part of storytelling and virtually omnipresent in other media. Sometimes it's the main story; other times it's a side story within the main one. But it's quite rare for it never to feature at all in mass entertainment media. Of course, it's often shoehorned in because it's what the viewers/readers want and expect, but you can also argue that attraction to someone else is just a fundamental human emotion and maybe even unavoidable, especially in an epic or heroic scenario like an RPG. I'm sure someone with professional experience in this field could probably speak more to this point, but I'm thinking here of those intense emotional feelings you get from stressful situations, which could lead to crushes and attraction for those in the same situation, or to rescuers and caregivers (Nightingale syndrome), or even to abductors (Stockholm syndrome) and the opposite (Lima syndrome).

And the fact that it's a fundamental human trait that plays such a major role in our lives (for better or worse) is why I think gaming companies should not ignore romance and should strive to create truly compelling attraction stories. It's an area ripe for innovation and could really make a game stand out from the rest. It's time to move on from the stereotype that gaming is for teenage boys and all they want is to shoot things and maybe have sex with big-titted avatars. Gaming is now for everyone, for all ages and for all sexualities (including asexuals), and I'm sure there's a market for mature stories to reflect what drives many people's decisions and behaviours.

The RPG genre in particular seems to be the best fit for romance (outside of dating sims, which I know nothing about). The beauty of role-playing is that you get to be who you want to be, which includes exploring attraction and your sexuality. It's incredibly challenging and maybe even impossible to create a game that would please everyone, but I certainly don't think the idea of compelling attraction gameplay should be given up because previous attempts have felt so inauthentic.

Going back to Starfield, I'm really excited to go out exploring the stars, fighting space pirates, upgrading my ship, and acquiring cool abilities. I love all these things about RPGs. But I'm also a sucker for a great story and experiencing a genuine human journey. For me, this includes relationships, both platonic and sexual, because it would be unavoidable when spending so much time with people on my ship, and exploring the galaxy. The importance of attraction in games will vary between gamers, but as other mass entertainment media has shown us, it's massively popular when done well, probably because it speaks to something so fundamental within us as humans.

These are just some of my musings and ramblings. What are your thoughts?

• Is it a waste of dev time and resources because it's too hard to do well?
• Is it an aspect you particularly enjoy or hate in RPGs?
• Which game did it best?
• What would you like to see in RPGs of the future with AI possibly being used?

I'm 21 years old. I'm studying for a bachelor's degree at a very selective institution. I have a high-paying job lined up after I graduate in the spring. I'm physically active and in good health. I see my friends and family regularly. I'm able to do most of my hobbies often, and I enjoy them. I've been in therapy for a long time for no specific reason and making little specific progress.

I apologize if this is in the wrong section. I've been unable to stop writing for the past several hours and I must stop. This is where I feel it belongs the most.

When I was 18, I noticed that I was going out of my way to make female friends, but not male friends. It may have been because I thought women were more attractive or likable, but my college dorm was mostly full of women, so maybe it was just statistics. In either case, my best friends were all men. We liked to do manly things, like drinking hard liquor, lifting heavy weights, and beating each other in wrestling matches. Over the next few years, I developed a very masculine, muscular body, which I took pride in both aesthetically and sexually. Women validated my physicality and spirit in speech and action. Acquaintances referred to me as a paragon of non-toxic masculinity.

But I felt increasingly uncomfortable in male-dominated spaces, and I remember wishing that I could introduce myself as (she/her) rather than (he/him), even though that didn't really match who I was or how I felt. I enjoyed participating in activities that were full of women. I read Judith Butler and attended feminist lectures. I even took some classes at a women's college by way of a consortium. I did not cross-dress. I did not take hormones. I did not reject my identity as a man. I couldn't; I was and am decidedly male. I was reluctant to associate with men not because I felt disparate from the male psyche, but because I did not like men.

The incongruity of my supposedly virtuous masculinity and my disdain for men is striking.

When I was 19, I fell hopelessly in love with a girl at school. We discovered by chance that we very much enjoyed each other's company. We spent a great deal of time together. One evening she invited me to her bedroom to study. I had a lot of work. I painstakingly notated Hume for three hours. At midnight, as I stood in the doorway to leave, she asked me if I wanted to stay for the evening. Par for the course. I did, but I couldn't say it. I became extremely conscious of the over-neutrality of my facial expression. It turned into something approaching a pained grimace. My core contracted intensely and I spoke slowly: "I'd really like to, but I can't." I left.

We saw each other the next day. I stayed over this time. We did not have sex, but I did kiss her.

Another day passed. I invited her over this time. We tried to have sex. It didn't work.

Some number of weeks passed. We saw each other occasionally. She'd lost interest in me. I was absolutely head over heels.

Some number of months passed as we went home for the winter. I thought about her every single day. I struggled to sleep. I was listless and anxious.

We reunited in February. She was taken with me. I'd stopped thinking about her constantly, just often. We spent more time together. She would brush up against me as we walked. She would speak to me with interest and excitement. We would dance at parties. We would look into each other's eyes and smile. My affection toward her grew beyond the realm of friendship again. Then a virus struck the Eastern Seaboard with a ferocity I'd never have expected within my lifetime. Our school announced its closure. We met the night before departing to say goodbye. I wanted desperately for her to stay with me forever. As she stood up to leave, I pulled her into an embrace and, my eyes tearing up and my voice nearly breaking, whispered, "I don't want you to go." She left.

We texted over the next few months. We grew very close; closer than we'd been in person. My life was comprised of misery, separation, and apathy. I couldn't stand to be in my home any longer. I couldn't stand to be in my city any longer; I found it endlessly oppressive. I did not like being observed. I was always, always being observed. I wanted to be alone. I was never truly alone. I wanted to be with one person. I was never with her. I could not work. I could not sleep. I could not socialize. I could not breathe.

The virus found its way to her. I was very concerned. She was fine. She could not smell. She was in good spirits. I escaped. I traveled to her. We met in a hotel. We spent several days together. I returned to my prison. I stepped foot inside and fell back into the crater I'd carved for myself.

Some number of months passed. I had to see her again. I scrambled out of my crater and broke free of the cell. We met in another hotel. We spent several days together. We went on an adventure. I became lost within myself. I needed to be near her. I could barely speak to her. She wanted me to leave. She would not say it. I could see it. I could read it. I did read it. In the middle of the night, I felt an overpowering, overwhelming, push to GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. It put the fear of God into my soul. I could not disobey, or I would die. I tried not to wake her. She heard me putting on my boots. She asked where I was going. I said that I needed to take a walk. I left as fast as my body allowed. I went out and forward. I had no destination; I just needed to depart immediately. I found a lake. It had a path nearby. The path continued into the woods, away from the water, windy and very dark. I walked along it for hours, hours, hours, hours, hours. The air was freezing. I was walking so vigorously that I had to take off my jacket. I could see the outlines of houses at some places along the path. The windows were dark. There were cars in the driveways. I intended to walk until I reached a town. I would look for a church, or a bar. Anywhere that would take me. It was cold again. I continued walking. There was no town. I continued walking. There was still no town. I continued walking. I saw lights in the distance. I continued walking. There was a lake. I approached. It was the lake I had found before. I halted and stood in place for ten minutes. I did not understand how this had happened or could happen. I sat down on a bench. I looked at the water. Across the lake, I saw a man walking alone. He took that path I had taken and disappeared into the darkness. I sat still for a very long time. Thoughts raced through my mind. I decided what I had to say to her. I went inside. A woman or man stood in the lobby. They took the elevator upstairs with me. I asked what floor. They gave some sort of answer. I pressed the button. We reached the floor I'd selected. They did not get out. I asked if this was their floor. They said no. I waited for the doors to close. We stood there in silence. The elevator brought us to our floor. I walked out. They followed me. They asked for a cigarette. I did not have any. I explained that I had to go to sleep. I walked quickly to my room. I entered. I closed the door behind me. I walked past the bed. She was awake. She asked how my walk was. I did not say anything. I could not look at her. I undressed and got into the bed. She made further conversation. I did not know what to say. She asked if I was feeling alright. I said that I was not. She asked why. My face tightened. My core tightened. I could not speak. I said, "My mind often takes me places." I paused for a long moment. "It gets anxious about people. Because I've been with you all this time, it's getting anxious about you." She said that that sounded like "normal social anxiety." I said, "No, it's..." I did not finish. I did not know how.

We have not spoken in months. I think about her every day. At many moments I feel as though I have never wanted to see someone again more. At other moments I forget her completely, if only briefly. Then the loneliness comes back.

Some weeks ago, I found myself in a distant place full of strangers. I made the acquaintance of a woman there. I liked her. She was older than me. She was very beautiful. She looked much younger than she really was. We drank wine and danced romantically at a party. Tango, waltz; whatever we could manage. She was the most attractive person there, and everyone knew it. She moved with a special mastery of her own body that I rarely saw in anyone. She was funny, and she could make really good drinks. Her friends commented on her beauty with pangs of jealousy. My heart fluttered when she entered the room, and I was drawn toward her. We spent more time together. People observed, but did not pry. She was confused or insecure about why I liked her. I offered kisses and flattery. The feeling was genuine; she had beauty beyond measure, and I felt remarkably comfortable in her presence. We had sex five times. We parted ways with a very heartfelt kiss. My mind returns now, uncontrollably, to two women.

The incongruity of the deep affection I feel and my inability to express it is striking.

TW. When I was 20, I lived far away from my friends. I spoke to my acquaintances cordially. Many of them looked up to me. I drank far too much alcohol. I saw a counselor. She spoke to me very candidly. I felt less alone.

A girl down the hall, fresh out of high school, begged me to take her virginity. She was very intoxicated. I refused. She sat on my lap and kissed me. I froze. I thought of my woman from before. She put her hand on my crotch. I gently moved her off. She asked me again. I said no. I couldn't bear to have anyone witness this. I took her outside. We walked along the road, into the darkness. She asked if we could do it tomorrow instead, and I said no again. I explained that I could not sleep with her. She did not understand. We sat down on a bench. I was exasperated. She sat on my lap and kissed me again. She asked me to squeeze her ass. I resisted. She begged. I gave up for a moment and complied, and she tried to pull me in closer. I moved her off me and stood up. We walked back home. I made sure she went to her room. I turned to go to bed. I could hear her crying through her door.

I felt that I had to leave that space. I could not. I lived there for six more months. I told no one. I avoided the girl down the hall. She and her friends always ate in the room near mine. It was hard for me to leave without being seen. I could say nothing. I pretended as though all was well with my other acquaintances. When I saw my friends, I did not tell them either. I distracted myself and moved on.

The incongruity of my unbelievable narcissism and my pitifully diffident response to unconsensual sexual acts is striking.

I'm 21 years old. Good or bad, all of that is behind me now. But it really isn't. I'm left with impressions in my mind that cannot be removed. I will never, ever forget these people; not by choice, but by imposition. I must accept this reality. In doing so I will allow myself to forget the worst parts, and so diminish the accursed reminders I presently face.

If you read all of this, thank you.

I've spoken about my personal journey over the past six months in comments a few times, but I felt the need to make a post about it, mostly as catharsis for myself, but if it helps other people out, that would be cool too. Also, I may be doxxing myself a bit here, which is a little unavoidable if I want to tell this story accurately. I'd appreciate not being stalked.

I'd like to detail my journey of what is, so far, the most difficult time in my life, what I've been doing to cope, how I'm doing now, and what the future may hold for me. This may be a little long and detailed, but I'll try to hit the high points.
Lets start at the beginning here.
I'm a 34 year old part time military officer in the US. I met my ex wife years ago, in high school originally. We were casual acquaintances back then. We had a couple of classes together, and I would tease her a little bit (I was immature when I was young, and totally unable to communicate well with girls). We went to prom together, but mostly lost touch after high school.

After college, I came back to my home town, started developing my career in IT, hanging out with friends and coworkers. One of the people I worked with happened to be dating a girl who was good friends with my ex wife, and we started all hanging out, and reconnecting. My ex confessed that she always had a crush on me, and started actively perusing me. It started out as a casual relationship that I didn't see going anywhere, but it lasted. Eventually, I fell deeply in love with her, and we moved in together a short while later.

I was so devoted to this woman. We were so alike in so many ways. We shared the same interests, the same type of humor, we developed our own language and style of communication. I had never really seriously considered wanting kids, and over time and a bunch of thought, I decided that I didn't really agree with the institution of marriage. In my mind, when two people love each other, that should be enough, and either party should be free to walk away at any time without any legal burdens or extra hoops to jump through, because I wouldn't want someone to be obligated to stay with me for even one minute.

Both things were really important to her however, and we almost broke up over it. Eventually, after spending time with kids, and some deep introspection on my own part, I came around on kids, and coming around on kids almost necessitates coming around on marriage. You don't need to be married to have kids, of course, but it certainly provides a more stable environment and smooths out a lot of practical, logistical concerns. I asked her to marry me shortly after that, after five years together, in 2016.

What followed were the happiest couple of years of my life. My wife had worked her way up in an accounting firm, she was managing a department, on track to become a partner in a few years. She had so much determination, ambition, and grit. It made me glassy eyed to think about how proud I was of her, all the personal growth and progress she'd made since I knew that girl in high school. I was developing a successful career in network engineering as well, and frequently flying out for short stints and conferences and design meetings. We were still best friends, and always wondered about people in unhappy marriages. Why couldn't they just be like us? Why were we so good at this?

We took trips together, we watched shows together on the couch, I couldn't get enough of her.

Her job had always been stressful, but some time around 2018, the stress had come to a head. She was frequently working until 10pm on week nights during her busy season, then she'd come home, down a few glasses of wine, go to bed after me, and wake up far too late, continuing the cycle of stress. This continued on for a few months. I tried to be there for her, prepare meals, support her however I could, but to little avail. She was angry, stressed out, upset all the time. She'd cry from the stress frequently, and was totally unable to cope.

One day, she came to me with a proposal. She would quit her job and start her own business. I always knew that she wanted to do that eventually, but I had hoped it would be after she had amassed significant savings to do it. Her business idea was to start a tabletop gaming cafe. We had gotten pretty deep into board games and TTRPGs, and she thought that with her business sense and accounting knowledge, she'd be a perfect fit to do this job. I agreed with her, but a significant part of me thought that it was a massive risk, and financially, we were on the cusp of being truly independent. This would set us back a few years in the best possible scenario. She was my wife though, and I saw what this job was doing to her, so I agreed.
She would work six more months while planning, save her money, and then quit to start this venture.

As everyone told us it would, it did not exactly go according to plan. Securing a location and funding was far more difficult than she anticipated. She was stuck waiting for 8 months for a location that didn't pan out. She wasn't used to having to push people and follow up and annoy people to get them to do what they'd say they did, all of that was new for her. No one would extend a small business loan to an unproven entrepreneur with a fairly novel business plan. All in all, between the location, and the build out, and delays with licensing and permits, she mostly waited around for two years. In this time, I could see she was spiraling. She'd wake up at noon and do puzzles or binge watch tv all day. At night, she would go out drinking with her friends. I would join sometimes, but I couldn't, and didn't want to most of the time because I was just exhausted from work.

Around this time, I discussed with my ex wife, and took a new position in the military, and got word that I would be deploying in 2020. I'm a leader of about 150 people, and preparing for this kind of thing is extremely involved, so I was working a lot. Meanwhile, my ex wife was going out constantly, 3-4 times a week, and coming home absolutely wasted. Sometimes she ubered, but other times she drove. In late 2019, I told her that I was concerned about how much she was drinking, that I thought it was unsafe. This was a bit of a wakeup call for her, as she had struggles with alcoholism in the past. She told me she was going to stop drinking and start going back to AA. I told her that if she thought that was what she needed to do, I would support her. She started her sobriety journey, and things started improving. She still was in limbo with her business, but construction was at least starting, she could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

In spring of 2020, I left for my deployment in the middle east, hopeful and optimistic. Her business was coming along nicely, I was taking this fairly prestigious position, and I was excited. We were sad to be apart, and it was heartbreaking to say good bye, but I'd see her again in ten short months.

The deployment was stressful, but rewarding. I accomplished a lot of things I'm very proud of while I was out there, and about halfway through, my wife finally opened her business! This is where things started taking a turn. She was unable to secure funding still, so she basically dumped all of her debts on my lap. She never directly asked me for the money, but she worded it in such a way that I couldn't really refused. "Hey... so the contractors are asking for their 60k... I don't have any way to pay them... so... I need to figure something out". Of course, she was my wife, I had the money, why would I say no? I had always been very good at saving, and had a decent amount in investments. All in all, I spent about $160k directly funding her business. It was an emotional, somewhat sickening feeling parting with that much money. My life savings more or less. This wasn't part of the plan, and I was upset at her for putting me in this position.
I told myself that it was ok. This was an investment in us. She'd make that back eventually, and what's hers is mine and what's mine is hers. Besides, this was my wife, and above all else, I wanted her to be happy. I stuffed those feelings of pain and resentment down, and continued with the deployment.

During the whole time I was gone, I would get messages from her about how hard it was being alone, how difficult taking care of the dog and business was, how lonely she felt, how much she missed me and she couldn't bare it anymore. I felt truly awful, but there was very little I could do 10,000 miles away. I texted with her often (the signal wasn't so good for live video or audio calls). We would sext a bit, exchange nudes to try to tide each other over, but I could tell she was struggling in that area as well.
About five months in, that kind of thing abruptly stopped. At the time, I thought she was learning coping strategies and adjusting to life with me gone. How little did I know.
This winter, I came home finally. Stepping off that plane into the terminal, a few hundred yards away from my wife was the most excited I've ever been in my life. I was giddy, there was a huge smile on my face as I walked down the concourse in my uniform, and the first glimpse I got of her standing there, my god, it was like being in the desert and stumbling upon a pristine oasis. She had requested that my parents not be there, so against my better judgement, I told them that they were not to come, but I didn't think about that at all. She was standing there in a ratty sweatshirt and jeans, but she was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I went up and hugged her tightly, kissed her, and told her how much I loved her. Having her in my arms after so long was just such an amazing feeling.
We went back to her car, and things quickly became much more... 'clinical', I'd say. Instead of feeling like we hadn't seen each other for ten months, it was like we were just hanging out on the couch after a long weekend, talking about practical things very quickly. It didn't really strike me as odd at the time, only now looking back on it.

We went home, had sex, I got a burger, we were content. The next week or so, that same 'clinical' feeling persisted. She took one day off of work, then went back, saying that because the business was so new she couldn't take much time off. Fine. I stopped by the shop often, but every time I was there, I got a cold feeling from her and her employees, like I wasn't truly welcome. She would come home late each night and we'd watch something or have sex, but I didn't really see her much. I really wanted to go do a trip together, spend some quality time together, but it didn't pan out. I spent my time fixing up the house which she'd let fall into disrepair or playing video games to relax.

One night, a week later (February 9th), I'm up late waiting for her to get home. 12:30 rolls around, no word from her. 1:00, nothing. Finally I message her, ask her when she's going to be home. She said she got caught up at work, and would be staying over her friends house for the night. A bit odd as her friend lives maybe 1/2 mile down the road, but whatever, she told me she'd been staying with this friend a lot while I was gone to stave off loneliness, so maybe she just misses that. I go to bed alone disappointed.

The next day, she comes home at 10, I'm on the computer. She sits down on the couch, and doesn't say anything. I can tell she's upset, so I ask her what's wrong. No answer. I turn the computer off and walk over, and ask her again.

She blurts it out. "I want a divorce".

This didn't even register for me. I didn't even hear her at first. After a few seconds, I just immediately assumed she was joking. It was a frequent joke of ours "You don't like this movie? We're getting a divorce!" it was one of many things we did to mess around.
I smiled a little, then it vanished. "Wait... you're serious?"

My head fell into my hands. "I don't understand... why?"

The reasons she gave me made no sense. I wasn't affectionate enough. I wasn't outgoing or social enough. She didn't like the nicknames I gave her. Stuff that had never come up before, and besides, I'd just been gone for close to a year, why are these suddenly issues now?

I thought, easy, I can fix all of that stuff no problem. We'll go to couples counseling. No, I'm tired of counseling (We never did any form of counseling together).

Okay, lets take that trip, lets work on the marriage. No, I'm tired of fighting.

None of it made any sense. She had to run some errands, I asked if I could come, I just needed to spend time with her and get to the bottom of this. She went to work. I stopped by, tried to get some clarity. She reiterated the same points, said that we don't communicate well. Referenced a fight we had at a party 3 years ago where we didn't talk for a day. I barely even remember what the argument was about. I hugged her, whispered to her that I can't lose her. She responded "Wellllll.....". That night, she told me she was staying at her mom's.

I talked to a friend of mine who is a divorce attorney a couple of days later. He told me that he hates to bring this up, but 99% of the time in situations like this, the wife is cheating. I hadn't done any snooping until then, but she had an old phone at the house. I opened it up. There it was in black and white. She'd been having an affair with one of the regular customers at her store for six months. "I love you baby" "I can't wait for us to be together" "You make me so happy".

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to break things. I wanted to murder this guy. I wanted my wife back. I felt so much rage, confusion, sadness, worthlessness. I couldn't bring myself to be mad at her though. When I read it, I was on the phone on my friend, and exclaimed "That fucking BITCH!", but I didn't really mean it. Not my beautiful wife. It was the guy's fault. He corrupted her. He was insistent and wore her defenses down. He turned my wife against me.

I contacted a divorce attorney that day. The marriage was over, I knew that now. What followed were the worst two months of my life. So much self loathing and depression. Anxiety. Panic attacks. How could I have not seen this? Where did I go wrong? Why did I go on that deployment? Why didn't I call and text my wife more? What did this guy have that I didn't? My friends and family helped, but some advice was better than others. "Just don't think about her" is not good advice, FYI.

I enrolled in therapy for the first time in my life. It helped a little, not a lot though. I kept up with my gym routine, which did help. I spent a lot of time walking my dog.

Eventually, I called my ex, and I told her "I want to do this quickly and with as little emotion as possible. I have a lot of things I'm feeling right now but I'm not going to bring them up because I want this to go smoothly." I never told her that I knew about the affair. My lawyer said it could only hurt things. Eventually we came to a settlement. I'd keep the house, my dog, my investments, etc. She'd keep her business, including the bulk of the capital I'd spent on it. The lawyer said this was a good deal. I still felt like I was getting fucked. I gave her that money less than a month before she started cheating on me. It was a complete slap in the face.

I spent a lot of time curled up in a ball crying. Prior to this, I hadn't cried in fifteen years. Little things would trigger me. A text from her about finances. Someone telling me about her shop. A smell that reminded me of her.

Two months after our separation, I started dating again. I met a wonderful woman, she sold exotic plants for a living. Empathetic, kind, beautiful, smart. It didn't work out. She needed someone in a more stable place. Looking back it was too soon.

I kept up with therapy and the gym, they both helped a little. I've gone on a couple more dates since then, nothing has really stuck. I'm still struggling with feelings of self confidence/attractiveness.

All in all, I DO feel better than I did, but I still don't feel great. I've been trying to expand my hobbies, I'm playing kickball now, I've picked up surfing. I'm trying to force myself to be a little more outgoing and social. I'd like to make new friends also, but not a ton of luck there yet. I do still cry sometimes. The other day, I was driving home from a bar, taking a route I used to take with my ex when we came from the movies. I remembered how happy I was with her by my side back then and started crying on the way home. I really hope that happens less. It's really unpleasant.

I have lately been feeling like I'm in a little bit of a rut. It's been six months and each week flies by with me doing much of the same thing. Video games at night, work during the day, gym in the afternoon, maybe a date here or there. I wouldn't mind maybe moving to a new city, but the thought of that and all the work that's involved, and having no friends is frankly terrifying to me. I do know that I don't want to live life like groundhog day. I want to experience more new experiences.

As far as I know, my ex wife has gone public with her relationship with the guy she left me for. By all outside accounts she seems happy, but who knows, I don't really keep tabs on her much and only communicate with her regarding a payment she owes me from the marriage. I've come to redirect most of the anger I had towards the guy at her instead. I am extremely bitter towards her and what she did, and I probably always will be. I don't see forgiveness in my future any time soon. I wrote her a letter after the divorce was finalized detailing that I knew everything she'd been doing, and assuring her that what she did was irredeemable, and no matter how she justified it in her head, it was not ok. I don't know if she ever even read it. She's still never apologized for what she did, and I doubt she ever will.

As for me, I'd like to get to a place where I'm happy by myself. That'll be a long road I think, as even before I met my ex, I wasn't happy alone. I'd like to go amass new experiences; see the world, live in new places, do things I've never done before. I feel like I'm getting old, and I haven't done the things I want to do yet.

I'd also like to find someone to fall in love with again. I love having a partner around and I'd be sad if I couldn't find someone to connect with like that again. I've been doing online dating, but man, it's really rough out there. I far prefer meeting people the way I met my ex, but you can't force that.

I hope that I continue to get better. It feels like a kind of plateau right now. If I compare how I feel now to the happiest moments of my life with my ex as a 10, and the month right after the separation as a 1, I would say I'm at around a 5. Not horrible, but not very good either. I hope that number steadily increases, with or without another person.

One "gift" that this whole experience has given me is self awareness of my emotional state. I feel a lot more in tune with the way I feel. I know when I'm having a bad day, and I usually know if I'm feeling bad just because I'm tired, or because I haven't had caffeine, or because something triggered me.

I also feel a lot more deeply now. I cry during emotional scenes in TV shows, I have highs and lows, whereas before I remember even telling my ex that emotionally, I felt a little numb. That could be a good thing depending on how you look at it.

Anyway, I know it was a little long, and if you read it, thank you. If you've got any questions or comments, feel free to leave them, and if this is inappropriate for this board, please feel free to let me know and I'll remove it.

hey everyone!

i don't usually post a lot in general, and when i do its mostly poetry.

but i'm looking for an excuse to procrastinate, and we've got a big emo rap discussion in the 2019 predictions thread going, so I was inspired (and caffeinated) enough to share my top 10 emo rap tracks of 2018 with you all!

enjoy

10. "Get Dressed" x Cold Hart

Music Video

Lyrics

if there's one phrase, brand, collective, namesake that you should be expecting to hear time-and-again over the next few years, it's the "GothBoiClique". the musical collective that brought us Lil Peep is absolutely filled-to-the-brim of other creative, first-moving, and prolific emo-inspired rappers, like our man here, Cold Hart.

where as a good number of popular emo rap songs (XXXTentacion's "Jocelyn Flores" or Juice WRLD's "Lucid Dreams" come to mind) are particularly more sad, sombre, and dark - Cold Hart is a consistent reminder that there is still joy to be found in dark times.

his music typically more inspired by the alternative rock and emo music of the early 2000s, and all the while touching on some sad topics, is more often than not found to be using his music to celebrate life, love, friendship, and the alternative subculture.

"Get Dressed" is a modern emo anthem, and a perfect song to rally the troops of the GothBoiClique. a cute, uplifting song about a guy with a crush, produced by other GBC members Fish Narc and Yawns, and references to Lil Peep's "Hellboy" album is a perfect reflection of where emo is in 2018, and a reminder that GBC is on the rise.

9. "EVERYTHING IS FINE" x scarlxrd

Lyrics Video

Lyrics

this new single from the British up-and-comer "scarlxrd" has been making big rounds in the underground - and been doing great work to hype-up his coming 2019 album, "Infinity."

we've seen screamed vocals begin to make their way into the modern rap scene - most popularly exemplified in songs like "GUMMO" x 6ix9ine, or "Ultimate" x Denzel Curry. scarlxrd has adopted this style, and been one of the biggest proponents of screamed vocals in the underground.

this song shows scar reflecting on a previous relationship, and the current state of his mental health - dripping in emo lyricism, and heavily metal-inspired lyrics

8. "Nike Just Do It" x Bladee

Music Video (your volume is fine - there's just silence at the beginning)

Lyrics

alright, so let's talk about this album really quick.

the name of the artist might sound familiar.

that's because the album that this song was on is Anthony Fantano's #5 worst album of 2018.

give the first 30-60 seconds a listen, and come back. odds are you'll agree - and i really can't argue with that, hahaha.

but - hear me out, because this song is actually pretty important.

Bladee is one of two frontrunners of an emo rap collective in Sweden - most commonly referred to as "Drain Gang". this collective is made up of a few members - Bladee of course, Thaiboy Digital, Ecco2k, Yung Sherm, and a guy named Yung Lean.

the last name might sound a bit familiar, because little Leandoer was actually one of the first people to bring attention to cloud rap, vaporwave aesthetics, and modern emo rap with his releases in 2013 like "Ginseng Strip 2002".

his style and delivery has greatly influenced Bladee, and definitely shows in the cloudy delivery, and emo-influenced lyrics.

i like this song for the same reason that i like the previous one from Cold Hart. yes, it touches on tough subjects. where Cold Hart's track touched on unrequited love from a crush, this track from Bladee touches on deathwishes, drugs, money, and suicide.

but - you pair these themes, the supremely cloudy acid-rap beat, and the lightheared air with which it's all put together - and what you have is a depression-aesthetic song meant to help people just get by, catch a vibe, and have a good time.

what i'm saying, is that this song is the musical equivalent of all of the depression and suicide memes of 2018. things suck, people are broke, people are sad, but damnit life does go on, and we gotta keep on waking up - so we might as well laugh off our own struggle whenever we can.

7. "PPL THT I LUV THE MOST" x 93FEETOFSMOKE

Song

Lyrics

this song was a big surprise to me - and almost nearly didn't come across my ears to make this list! i'd just discovered both this song, and 93FEETOFSMOKE himself a month ago - but on my first listen, i was hooked.

the raw, sad lyrics are painted on top of relatively simple music - almost as a way to make you focus onto what's being said, and how it's being delivered. the half-screamed quarter-sang quarted-spoken-word lyrics are reminiscent of the hardcore rock scene, and bring me memories of songs like "Such Small Hands" x La Dispute and "I Am In Great Pain, Please Help Me" x Crywank

it's songs like this, and a number of others on this list, that give me confidence in the future of emo rap - not solely because of the subgenre's commercial success, or the quick rise in popularity of some of it's more popular artists, but because of how well the essence of emo rock is captured, and exactly how many different areas of emo are drawn from across different artists, albums, and
singles.

6. "Will He" x Joji

from the same man that brought us:

Hair cake (warning: Gross)

Pink Guy - "STFU"

and the Harlem Shake

we have the first major single from rising emo rap artist - Joji.

Music Video

Lyrics

this song is a muted, solemn message to a former lover - peppered with regret, mystery, melancholy, and suicide.

we see the song somehow very bluntly, yet very smoothly pay it's respects to the bi-polar nature of breakups, and the need to take care of oneself, whilst also wanting to still take care of your former partner, the anxiety of wondering if they're in good hands, and the pain of knowing that you cannot ask - that these questions are to remain unanswered.

the music video seems to show the aftermath of a house party gone wrong - a woman in a blood-stained cupid costume on the floor, someone in a panda costume passed out, and Joji - fading and nodding in a bathtub full of blood. in my own interpretation - I would take this to signify the feelings of withdrawal after an important relationship has come to a close.

5. "Lucid Dreams" x Juice WRLD

Music Video

Lyrics

by far the most popular emo rap song of the year, i have to mention Lucid Dreams for it's commercial success, and it's introduction of emo rap to millions of new listeners.

even though it can be an eye-roller, given how much this song gets played at parties, on the radio, in your Spotify recommendeds (you really should get Premium) - this song does deserve attention as being one of the more well-written emo rap songs of the year.

within the realm of emo music, it's very easy to fall into the trap of #imfourteenandthisisdeep as we struggle to find the right words to describe loneliness, anxiety, depression, loss, and the other complex topics that we may find ourselves in the midst in.

one of the reasons this song was so successful, i feel, is because of how absolutely blunt, clear, and to-the-point the lyrics were. it takes no second of meditation to understand lines like

I still see your shadows in my room

I take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay

and

Who knew evil girls had the prettiest face?

these lyrics make the song inherently biting, direct, and most importantly, digestible as the mass market starts to put their headphones on. this was a song written to be inherently relatable, expressed the emotions behind emo music in a modern package, and helped to cement the place of emo rap in the current musical zeitgeist.

4. "In Providence" x Wicca Phase Springs Eternal

Music Video

Lyrics

on the same idea as the previous entry about 93FEETOFSMOKE - this is a track (and an artist as a whole) that very much draws from the emo and metal days of yore.

(fun fact - this song was originally #6 on the list, but my bit of extra research and writeup changed my heart for the better.)

Wicca Phase Springs Eternal, founding member of the aforementioned GothBoiClique, and previous founding member and vocalist of the late 2000s emo band Tiger's Jaw draws very heavily on the emo and gothic superstars of the early 2000s - often referring to groups like Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance as major musical influences.

this has led Wicca, throughout his emo rap career, to be a cornerstone of the gothic, and more subtle edges of the alternative. whereas for some, the word "emo" is an aesthetic, with Wicca, it's a lifestyle - the style of which, i feel like, is perfectly captured within this song and it's video.

this song speaks on themes that i feel like we can all relate to (or at least i very much can) - capturing the feeling of a loss of an important relationship, and the feeling of insecurity and concern as you walk about the city in which you both live, carrying about your life, though always looking over your shoulder for unfriendly faces and bad memories.

whether this song will shine as one of the most important emo rap tracks after the genre dies, i'm unsure. however, i think this song very well captures the spirit of emo - both emotionally and musically, and well deserves to be mentioned when we discuss the progression of emo in the future.

3. "Leanin'" x Lil Peep

Song

Lyrics

as we come to close a year of emo rap - it's hard not to mention Lil Peep.

after Gustav's death in late 2017, his fans were nearly foaming at the mouth for unreleased material, and in November, they got their wish with the release of his first posthumous album, Come Over When You're Sober, Pt. 2

this album features a lot of fantastic tracks from peep - such as "Falling Down" ft. XXXTentacion, the more-optimistic-than-usual "Life Is Beautiful", and my personal favorite from the album, "Broken Smile".

however - in light of his passing, none of these songs seem to be quite as harrowing as "Leanin'"

the lyrics feature Peep nodding (the feeling of euphoria and disorientation you may experience on opiates) in his seat, reflecting on someone he misses, and the current state of his life.

peppered with bi-polar lyrics about sex and wanting to scream when you hear someone's name -

and the absolutely chilling verse

Woke up surprised
Am I really alive?
I was tryin' to die last night, survived suicide last night

makes this song a hallmark of the year for me - highlighting the struggle that Peeper felt, how risky he new his lifestyle was, and how much he was ready to give up if it meant him finally being free of the pain he felt.

Rest easy, Gus.

2. "Peach Scone" x Hobo Johnson

NPR Tiny Desk Contest Submission - (Music Video)

Lyrics (the intro changes with every performance. i think it's a cute concept.)

breakout emo rap star Hobo Johnson has had a really big year, with the release of this single, and the growth of attention to his other more-popular tracks "Romeo and Juliet", and "Father" (i'm the new Will Smith!)

our man Frank has seen himself come up on a rise in the underground, as his creative lyricism, inventive instrumentals, and fresh/interesting vocal delivery have gotten the attention of a lot of people inside and outside of the emo rap community. (this aided by the fact that his otherwise bright, bubbly personality has led him to become a bit of a prettyboy in the scene, causing his concerts to be full of sad dudes and girls fawning trying to get a good pic for Instagram. can't say i blame them. he's a cute fella.)

but on the important musical side of things, i love the fact that his lyrics seem to be striking and raw, without being hyper-simplistic. his delivery comes across as raw and pained - without being aggressive or dark. and most importantly, he touches on topics and feelings of anxiety that i feel like we all experience every now and then - but as we grow older, have come to ignore or simply accept as a "part of life" or a "part of the way the world works". with peach scone, we see Frank finding himself smitten with a girl already in a happy, committed relationship - and his struggles of smiling and offering her support, whilst also trying to hide the face that any time he sees this girl,

he's absolutely

smitten

and then the courage builds up inside of him and he cant help but turn to her and admit the fact

that he

loves

...
.

...peach scones.

1. "Train food" x XXXTentacion

and here at number one - we have my personal favorite track off of Jahseh's first posthumous album, "Skins".

Song

Lyrics

this was a very interesting song. and, in the same vein of the song from Peep, very harrowing as it looks forward heavily discussing the topic of death, and it's inevitable nature.

this is not a recanting of a moment in Jahseh's life, or a metaphor expressing some deeper ideas of life/death/pain.

rather, this is a bit of a concept song, meant to tell a story of a boy walking home, as he comes nearby a train track, and meets a man who turns out to be Death.

the delivery, style, and message of the song are very reminiscent of his earlier song "I spoke to the devil in miami, he said everything would be fine" (Song/Lyrics)

this song shows X walking home with his head down as he comes across a man - presumed to be Satan, who stops him for a quick chat.

wanting to avoid confrontation and not wanting to talk, X changes directions, only to be cornered by the weaponless man around every corner. there was no escape.

they begin to "talk" as X is reminded of his history of self-harm, and the life of hardship he'd lead until his recent acquisition of an audience, a change of heart, and financial success.

then we hear X attacked, and bound to the rails of a train track - calling out to God for help and hearing nothing, feeling abandoned, as he knows death inevitably waits around the corner.

almost as if he could see the murder coming just months in the future.

not only is this track absolutely chilling, but it's also a phenomenal use of music to tell a compelling story. we've seen that X has the capacity to create the mindless/empty trap bangers like "Look At Me!" or "#ImSippinTeaInYoHood" - but he instead chooses to use his platform to push the boundaries of what today's rap fans listen to, using his influence to open his fans up to the idea of concept-music and musical storytelling, and to show that he was, above all else, an artist looking for a platform, looking for self-expression, and looking to lose himself in his art.

Long Live Jahseh.

(oof)

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