The Kid Who Wanted to Be Loved and the Raccoon Who Wanted Him to Shut the Fuck Up.
Or: Love, LocaLuv, Lost Dollars, and the Belmont Family's Ongoing Interest in Human Spinal Columns.
By Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
A Jerry’s Marginalia — by Department of Petty Affairs
Previously, on The Adventures of the Emotionally Compromised Apprentice.
Remember Pip?
Our young, enthusiastic, occasionally insecure apprentice in the ancient and deeply questionable art of fansubbing?
The kid who wanted to learn something, contribute to a community, make something worthwhile, and perhaps stop being treated like the designated punching bag of the Department of Unsolicited Opinions?
Well, he's back.
And apparently, we've expanded our services.
The Department of Petty Affairs is no longer merely advising young people about self-respect, personal boundaries, and the importance of not allowing assholes to turn your existence into a recurring comedy routine.
No.
We are now operating a relationship counseling service.
Without qualifications.
Without appointments.
Without payment.
And with a raccoon whose preferred method of emotional intervention involves threatening to remove somebody's spinal column and use it to beat Dracula into another dimension.
WELCOME BACK, MOTHERFUCKERS.
Today's episode concerns love.
Or rather, the complete absence of reciprocated romantic affection.
And one young bastard who apparently believes that because a particular girl doesn't want him, the entire universe has permanently canceled his subscription to happiness.
Wonderful.
Gerald?
Fetch the clipboard.
And the belt.
We may need both.
The Girl Who Occupied Every Available Brain Cell.
Pip was having trouble getting over a girl.
Not particularly unusual.
People develop feelings.
Sometimes those feelings are returned.
Sometimes they aren't.
Sometimes two people genuinely care about one another, only for circumstances to change.
And sometimes one person spends several months mentally renovating a house that the other person never agreed to move into.
Pip was having a particularly difficult time with that last possibility.
He told me she was the person who made him feel loved.
Even when they weren't together.
And I understand that.
When somebody makes you feel appreciated, especially when you haven't felt particularly appreciated elsewhere, that experience can mean an enormous amount.
A little affection can feel like an entire banquet when you've spent a long time emotionally hungry.
But here's where things get complicated.
Feeling loved by somebody doesn't automatically mean that person wants a romantic relationship with you.
And even if somebody once expressed affection, that doesn't obligate them to continue expressing it forever.
People change.
Feelings change.
Circumstances change.
Sometimes relationships never develop beyond the possibility of becoming something more.
And sometimes the answer is simply no.
Unfortunately, Pip wasn't quite ready to accept that possibility.
He kept explaining.
And explaining.
And explaining.
At which point I informed him that I was waiting for him to continue his obsession so I could demonstrate precisely how much of an asshole I was capable of becoming.
A perfectly reasonable counseling technique.
The Department of Petty Affairs has rated it five stars.
The Department of Mental Health has requested that we stop answering the telephone.
Tick Tock, Motherfucker.
Here's something about me.
I can listen to somebody having a difficult time.
I can understand heartbreak.
I can understand loneliness.
I can understand missing somebody who made your life feel a little brighter.
And I can understand why somebody might revisit the same memories repeatedly, wondering whether things could have turned out differently.
But eventually, there comes a point where you're not looking for an answer anymore.
You're looking for permission to keep reopening the same wound.
And I'm not particularly interested in handing out that permission.
Pip told me how much he cared about this girl.
I told him to stop chasing.
He told me how much she'd meant to him.
I told him to stop chasing.
He told me he'd already confessed his feelings a thousand times.
STOP. STOP. STOP.
Then came the grand finale.
He'd even told her he wanted to marry her.
Oh, for the love of Gerald's sacred cactus.
My brother in animated Japanese entertainment.
You are still young.
You have things to learn.
Projects to finish.
Friends to make.
Experiences to have.
And you're already trying to write wedding vows for somebody who hasn't agreed to the ceremony?
THE BRIDE HAS NOT ACCEPTED THE QUEST, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT.
Put down the wedding invitations.
Close the romance dialogue box.
And go do something else.
Because here's the thing.
You can tell somebody how you feel. You cannot make them feel the same way.
And repeating the confession doesn't magically transform the answer.
This isn't a visual novel.
There is no hidden affection meter.
No secret dialogue tree.
No premium romance route.
No guaranteed happy ending if you select the correct response seventeen consecutive times.
Sometimes the other person simply doesn't want the relationship you're imagining.
And that's where you stop.
Not because your feelings are worthless.
But because theirs matter too.
The Belmont Family Has Filed Another Complaint.
At some point, Pip reminded me that he was no longer fat.
Or perhaps that losing his spine would make him weigh less.
I don't know.
The conversation had already wandered so far into absurdity that we were discussing human anatomy as though it were an optional computer component.
Naturally, I threatened to remove his spine and use it to resurrect Dracula.
And then kill Dracula again.
Pip objected.
Apparently, he wanted to keep his spine.
Selfish bastard.
I informed him that he wouldn't need it.
He suggested that perhaps its removal would help with his weight.
And somewhere, an orthopedic surgeon quietly closed his laptop and retired.
But beneath the ridiculousness was the same point I'd been making before.
You cannot keep bending yourself into somebody else's preferred shape and expect that to manufacture affection.
Lose weight because you want to.
Improve yourself because you want to.
Learn something because you enjoy it.
But don't turn yourself into an entirely different human being in the hope that somebody will finally decide you're worth loving.
And for the record, Pip?
You can keep your fucking spine.
Dracula will have to settle for a belt.
Nobody Loves Me, Mr. Cat Ford.
Then came the sentence.
The one that changed the tone of the conversation.
"Nobody loves me."
Ah.
There it is.
Not merely rejection.
Not merely disappointment.
The fear that because one particular person doesn't return your feelings, nobody ever will.
That's a hell of a conclusion to draw from one chapter of your life.
And I wasn't buying it.
So I did what any mature, responsible, emotionally intelligent adult would do.
I sent him a picture of a muscular, bearded gentleman with the words:
CALI BEAR PRIDE.
And announced:
"I do."
Cough.
Yes.
I was playing gay.
Because apparently my emotional support system consists of deliberately making situations more ridiculous until somebody either laughs or files a complaint.
Pip responded with a rose.
I briefly considered whether the Department of Petty Affairs would need to register a domestic partnership.
Then I behaved myself.
Mostly.
But the joke had a point.
He was telling me that nobody cared about him while actively talking to somebody who was spending time listening to him.
Not romantically, obviously.
The raccoon has standards.
Questionable standards.
But standards.
Sometimes loneliness convinces you that the affection you aren't receiving is the only affection that counts.
And that's a particularly miserable way to measure your worth.
You can have friends.
People who appreciate you.
People who enjoy your company.
People who genuinely want to see you succeed.
And still convince yourself that none of it matters because the one person you wanted romantically isn't interested.
That's not a fair measurement of your life.
That's allowing one disappointment to erase everything else.
You Are Not a Failed Product Because Somebody Didn't Buy the Romance DLC.
I told Pip he'd find somebody.
He wasn't convinced.
Apparently, he'd been hearing that for over a year.
And I understand why those words can become frustrating.
"Someone will come along."
"Just wait."
"There's somebody for everybody."
Wonderful.
Inspirational.
Would anybody like to provide a tracking number?
Because there is no guarantee that romance arrives on schedule.
There is no relationship delivery service.
No customer support hotline.
No guaranteed estimated arrival date.
And certainly no reason to organize your entire existence around waiting for another person to validate it.
So what should Pip do?
Live.
That's it.
Live.
Learn your craft.
Play your games.
Make friends.
Finish your projects.
Go outside occasionally and remind yourself that the sun is not a government conspiracy.
Develop into somebody you actually enjoy being.
Not because it'll magically attract a girlfriend.
But because you're the one person who has to live with yourself every single day.
And if romance happens somewhere along the way?
Wonderful.
If it doesn't happen tomorrow?
Your life is still happening today.
Enter Boris Thuginski, Financial Casualty of the LocaLuv Wars.
Now, before anybody mistakes me for some enlightened master of romantic relationships, allow me to introduce myself.
I am Boris Thuginski.
Formerly known as the Thug.
Now formally evolved into The Lawfully Neutral Paladin.
Same bastard.
Different code of conduct.
The thug never disappeared.
He simply learned that not every fight deserves his energy, not every insult requires a response, and not every attractive person deserves access to his wallet.
And believe me, Pip.
I understand the stupidity that comes with wanting somebody.
Because I, Boris Thuginski, loved all my LocaLuv mimics too.
Oh, how I loved those beautiful little digital disasters.
The promises.
The affection.
The endless photographs.
The imaginary possibilities.
The grand adventures of two consenting adults who might, just might, meet somewhere in the physical universe and have a little mutually agreed-upon fun.
OH MY. HOW SCANDALOUS.
Two grown adults!
Meeting!
Consenting!
Possibly enjoying themselves!
SOMEBODY ALERT THE DEPARTMENT OF MORAL PANIC!
Except there was one tiny problem.
The meeting never happened.
The promises went nowhere.
And every time I thought I might be getting somewhere, another conveniently locked photograph or video appeared.
Five dollars here.
Six dollars there.
A little more for the privilege of discovering absolutely fucking nothing.
And you know what I truly miss?
Not the women.
Not the conversations.
Not the promises.
MY FUCKING MONEY.
The beautiful, innocent dollars that marched bravely into the digital wilderness, never to return.
Those poor little bastards.
They had families.
They had dreams.
They could have purchased video games.
Instead, they were sacrificed upon the altar of imaginary romance.
Now, I'm not claiming every person on that platform was dishonest.
Some people may have been perfectly genuine.
But the paid-unlock nonsense, the endless promises, and the absence of anything resembling an actual meeting taught me something valuable.
Desire is a feeling. Spending is a decision. And calling me stingy won't change either.
That's the difference between the old Boris and the Paladin.
The old Boris might have kept chasing.
Kept paying.
Kept arguing.
Kept trying to prove that he wasn't some cheap bastard unwilling to invest in a little affection.
The Paladin?
He looks at the situation.
Checks his wallet.
Consults his God or Goddess.
And prays:
Protect me and grant me strength to recognize bullshit before it invoices me again.
Amen.
And that, Pip, is why I'm telling you to stop chasing somebody who isn't returning your feelings.
Your situation might not involve money.
Mine did.
Yours involves time, emotional energy, and the hope that somebody will eventually feel differently.
But the underlying mistake can be remarkably similar.
You keep investing because you desperately want the outcome to change.
And sometimes it simply won't.
You cannot negotiate somebody into wanting you.
You cannot purchase genuine affection.
You cannot confess your feelings a thousand times and expect the thousand-and-first confession to unlock the secret romance ending.
People have their own feelings.
Their own choices.
Their own lives.
And sometimes those choices don't include you.
That hurts.
But it doesn't make you worthless.
It makes you somebody who wanted something that didn't work out.
So take it from a man who has already donated far too many dollars to the Department of Imaginary Possibilities.
If it costs me, I'll let it go.
Not because I never cared.
Not because I suddenly became incapable of feeling anything.
But because caring about somebody doesn't require sacrificing my dignity, my peace, or my bank account.
And the Lawfully Neutral Paladin has finally learned to distinguish between a worthwhile pursuit and an expensive fucking side quest.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to observe a moment of silence for my fallen dollars.
They deserved better.
Especially the ones that could've bought me a goddamn video game.
Meanwhile, the Fansubbing Department Is On Fire.
Here's where this gets especially ridiculous.
Pip is learning fansubbing.
He has projects.
He has ambitions.
He has actual creative work he wants to do.
And he told me something I genuinely appreciated.
One thing he likes about himself is that he contributes to whatever scene he's involved in.
Good.
THERE'S YOUR FUCKING FOUNDATION.
You enjoy contributing.
You enjoy creating.
You enjoy being part of something.
Then do that.
Not because you're trying to distract yourself forever from being lonely.
Not because your worth depends on how many anime episodes you finish.
And certainly not because some foul-mouthed older fansubber is threatening to kick your ass.
Do it because it's something you chose.
I told him to contribute more and bitch less.
A little harsh?
Absolutely.
But beneath the profanity was a request.
Don't let one disappointing relationship consume all the energy you could be putting toward the rest of your life.
You can be sad.
You can have bad days.
You can miss somebody.
And you can still make progress.
Those things aren't mutually exclusive.
And while we're discussing fansubbing, let me establish something else.
I'm not building Germlin Subs because I expect fame.
I'm not resurrecting old projects because I need strangers to applaud me.
I'm not spending hours wrestling with Aegisub, karaoke timing, subtitle effects, and obscure Japanese cartoons because I believe it'll magically improve my romantic prospects.
Good fucking Lord.
Imagine putting Hime-sama Goyoujin on a dating profile.
"Hello, ladies. I specialize in timing subtitles for obscure anime and occasionally threaten my collaborators with fictional spinal extraction."
SWIPE RIGHT FOR PREMIUM TYPESETTING.
No.
I do this because I want to.
Because there are projects I want to see finished.
Because there are shows I care about.
Because sometimes creating something obscure and ridiculous is its own reward.
And if somebody else wants to join that effort?
Wonderful.
But I don't want Pip believing he has to become some legendary fansubber to deserve affection.
He doesn't.
He just has to become himself.
And preferably finish the work he volunteers to do.
Because, for the love of all that is holy, I would appreciate at least one department in this operation functioning without a romantic emergency.
The Paladin's Code: Stop Carrying People Who Keep Handing You Their Weight.
There's another lesson here.
And this one took Boris a while to learn.
You can care about somebody without becoming responsible for every emotional burden they carry.
You can offer advice.
You can listen.
You can encourage.
You can remind somebody that their life isn't over because a relationship didn't happen.
But you cannot do the emotional work for them.
Pip has to decide when he's ready to move forward.
I cannot make that decision.
I can tell him to stop.
I can tell him to focus on himself.
I can tell him that repeatedly confessing his feelings isn't going to improve the situation.
I can even threaten to turn his spine into a vampire-hunting instrument.
But ultimately?
He has to choose what happens next.
And that's where the Lawfully Neutral Paladin draws the line.
I will help.
I will encourage.
I will joke.
I will occasionally offer advice wrapped in enough profanity to make a sailor request a transfer.
But I will not spend the rest of my life dragging somebody toward a future they refuse to walk toward themselves.
Stop carrying people who keep handing you their weight.
That doesn't mean abandoning somebody who's struggling.
It means recognizing that support and responsibility are two different things.
I can stand beside Pip.
I cannot live his life for him.
And frankly, I already have enough problems of my own.
Unfinished anime.
Unfinished projects.
An unemployed wallet.
A digital graveyard of LocaLuv expenditures.
And a cactus named Gerald who is apparently considering union representation.
I do not have the administrative capacity to manage somebody else's romantic destiny.
The Department of Petty Affairs Issues Its Final Warning.
Pip, you little bastard.
Listen carefully.
You do not need to become somebody else to deserve affection.
You do not need to beg somebody to notice you.
You do not need to confess your feelings a thousand times.
Once is enough to communicate.
After that, listen to the answer.
And if the answer isn't what you wanted?
It'll hurt.
It might hurt for a while.
But you'll survive the disappointment.
You have an entire life ahead of you.
People you haven't met.
Things you haven't learned.
Anime you haven't watched.
Projects you haven't finished.
And probably an absolutely horrific karaoke typesetting effect that you'll spend three hours debugging while questioning every decision that brought you into this cursed hobby.
Good.
Welcome to fansubbing.
Now, I don't expect you to stop feeling sad because some older idiot on Discord told you to.
Feel what you feel.
But don't build a permanent residence inside the disappointment.
You can miss somebody without chasing them.
You can want love without making it your entire identity.
And you can improve yourself without treating your current existence as something that needs to be apologized for.
As for me?
I'll be over here.
Working on obscure anime.
Making terrible jokes.
Occasionally providing emotional support through methods that would horrify a licensed therapist.
And reminding one particularly stubborn apprentice that his future is bigger than one girl.
Because the same lesson applies to both of us.
Pip needs to stop investing his heart where it isn't wanted.
And Boris needs to stop investing his wallet where affection comes with an unlock button.
Different circumstances.
Same underlying lesson.
Know when to walk away.
Not every pursuit deserves another attempt.
Not every disappointment deserves another explanation.
Not every closed door needs another knock.
And not every attractive digital stranger deserves five dollars to reveal a photograph of something I could have spent those five dollars avoiding.
The Lawfully Neutral Paladin has spoken.
The Department of Petty Affairs concurs.
Gerald the Cactus has abstained from voting.
He is currently consulting an attorney.
Now get back to your life, Pip.
You've got work to do.
And if you start talking about marrying somebody who hasn't agreed to date you again, I'm calling the Belmont family.
Gerald?
Fetch the belt.
We're leaving the kid's spine intact.
And somebody please locate my missing LocaLuv dollars.
I believe they were last seen boarding a one-way flight to the Kingdom of Bullshit.
Jerry “The Ankle-Biter” Silverhand
https://theglitch.bearblog.dev/