"I can't go back. If I go back, nothing will be...well. I won't...I won't be well. I won't be me. The me that was made out here. And that unwellness that I feel, I feel it so deeply in my bones."
This is Lottie’s mental health finally being given the depth and gravity it deserves. Lottie’s mental illness has often been treated as a punchline this season, but this moment finally gives proper weight to how deeply painful, complex, and real it is. This is Lottie’s recognition of what awaits her in the real world: a life of being sedated, controlled, and institutionalized. Lottie knows deep down that she is “unwell.” Lottie is spiraling out there, she’s suffering from intense psychosis and she needs help, but it is also the only time she has ever felt free and authentically herself after years of suppression.
It breaks my heart knowing how right Lottie is here, because the moment she gets back she is locked in a psych ward, heavily medicated, and forced to undergo electroshock therapy instead of getting the help she really needs. And even after she gets out, she will spend the rest of her life being afraid of her own mind, constantly at war with herself.
how long can we be a sad song? (till we are too far gone to bring back to life)
modern day high school au
// your girlfriend lottie has always made it clear soccer is her main priority. when nationals near and she begins ignoring you, your final straw seems to be when she lashes out at you. //
warnings: angst but kinda fluffy at the end, breakups, asshole!lottie, jock!lottie, she’s mean for like a minute lol
you let out a quiet sigh as you sit on the bleachers and watch your girlfriend and laura lee continue to practice on the soccer field. even though practice ended an hour ago. finally, laura lee announces she needs to get home, and she waves at you as she makes her way off the field. you look over at lottie who’s offering you a smile. it’s way too late to go and watch that movie in town you wanted to see, so you know now your only option is hanging out at one of your houses.
you stand up, making your way down the bleachers and over to your girlfriend. “did you still want to hang out?” lottie asks, “i’m a bit tired, maybe we can just catch the movie tomorrow?” lottie offers and you feel your entire mood sour even more than it already was. “i just waited two hours to hang out with you.” you point out, and the raven haired girl frowns. “i never asked you to wait. i told you i have to really focus on nationals.” lottie states sternly, and you nod. “i know that. i know nationals is super important to you… but you’ve blown me off for three weeks now because of it. i just thought… i don’t know, you’d make a little time for me too.” your voice is quiet, and soft. you don’t sound angry but you sound disappointed.
lottie feels a wave of guilt wash over her. “i’m sorry. tomorrow i’ll leave as soon as coach ben ends practice. promise.” she insists, sounding so sincere you actually believe her. your dismal expression is quickly replaced by a happy one. you nod, “okay. can you meet me at my place tomorrow after practice? i have a piano lesson at my house so i can’t watch you practice.” you admit and she nods, flashing you the same smile you fell in love with. “of course, babe. come on, i’ll drive you home.” she offers kindly, and your heart skips a beat as she reaches for your hand, interlocking her fingers with yours.
the next day at school you spent the entire day eager for it to end. you couldn’t wait to see the barbie movie, and you had been going on and on about how excited you were about it. you even missed going with your friends, in order to see it with lottie because she promised. after school, you give lottie a kiss goodbye and made your way to your sisters car.
what you expect after your piano lesson is lottie to text you that she’s outside and waiting for you. but what happens is you get ready for your date, and you end up waiting two hours. two hours and not a single text or call from lottie. you don’t even bother texting her more than once because you feel so emotionally exhausted. she’s been putting you aside all year for soccer, and sure, at first you understood. this could get her a scholarship… but she’s rich! she could afford to get into any school, and play on any college team…
maybe she just doesn’t want to hang out with me.
“honey, why are you all dolled up? you have plans?” your mother asks you, walking out of the kitchen wearing an apron that’s stained with some sort of red sauce. “no. not anymore. i was supposed to hang out with lottie today, but… she canceled for soccer practice again.” you confess hesitantly and your mother nods. “that girls gonna burn herself out with all the practice she does.” she comments jokingly, but you’re not in the mood to laugh. your mother realizes something is wrong right away.
“mom, do you think… do you think lottie likes soccer more than she likes me?” you question, your voice laced with insecurity. your mother laughs as if you’ve said the funniest thing on the planet. “that’s absurd, mija (sweetheart), that girl once walked all the way here just to give you flowers.” your mother reminds and you feel a pang of hurt hit your heart. “she… she just doesn’t do those things anymore. she’s always been so serious about soccer but this year? god, she’s been a nightmare. did i tell you allie broke her leg during a practice scrimmage? that’s how serious they’re taking this…” you trail off and the older woman’s eyes widen a bit at the revelation.
“she’s just a different person these days. it doesn’t feel like she likes me very much anymore.” you admit sadly, and your mother frowns. “have you talked to her about this?” she inquires uncertainly, and you nod. “not all of it, but i have told her i feel like she puts soccer before me and our relationship a lot.” you explain, “she always says it’s just in my head, and that she loves me… but she stood me up again after promising she wouldn’t and i—“ your voice cracks and your mother rushes over to you. “honey, no. this— this isn’t right. you need to talk to her about this. all of it.” the older woman says sternly, and you sniffle as you wipe a tear away. you’ve always been so sensitive and this entire situation was getting to you.
“what if— what if we break up? or what if she confirms that she does think soccer is more important? i… i don’t know if i can handle that.” you whisper the last part and the raven haired woman shakes her head. “well you’re going to have to, because the longer you let this fester, the worse you’re going to feel.” she comments stringently, causing you to look up at her with sad eyes. “y-you’re right. i’ll talk to her tomorrow.” you assure her, and just as your mother is about to respond, your phone starts vibrating.
the screen lights up with texts from lottie, and you look at your mom. “it’s her.” you say, and she shrugs. “don’t respond for a few hours. come help me with dinner, it’ll get your mind off her.” she suggests, and you press your lips together. “isn’t ignoring her just as bad?” you question and she shakes her head, “you’re just giving her a taste of her own medicine. come on; leave the phone there and come help me.” your mother insists, helping you off the couch and gesturing your towards the kitchen.
all your mother let you do was chop up some zucchini, and set the table. still, talking with her about other things than lottie was nice. and talking about lottie definitely gave you some perspective. you were definitely going to talk to your girlfriend about this, and you were going to put your foot down. you weren’t going to make her choose between you and soccer; you’d never even consider doing that. you just wanted a little time, and to maybe be prioritized a little better.
after dinner you end up going upstairs, taking a shower, washing your face, and brushing your teeth. you wander around your bedroom, nirvana blasting on your speaker as you dry your hair. your phone chimes again, signaling you got another text.
(7;56 p.m) lottie: tai made us practice late again, i’m sorry. can we reschedule?
(7;57 p.m) lottie: this saturday is all yours! i promise!
(8;12 p.m) lottie: hello?
(8;15 p.m) lottie: my texts are delivering, so i know your phones on.
(8;20 p.m) lottie: i’m really sorry about the movie
(9;33 p.m) lottie: no phone call tonight?
(9;35 p.m) you: hey, i got caught up with piano practice, and helping my mom with dinner, and then being stood up by my girlfriend
you know your response is petty, and unlike you, but you were still upset. lottie has never just pushed you aside like this, and to do it so consistently all of a sudden made you feel so bad. especially about yourself. it made you wonder if she was losing interest. if maybe she was only using soccer as an excuse to stop hanging out with you.
(9;38 p.m) lottie: well, i’m glad you’re alive. i didn’t stand you up, you know how tai gets when she decides something. i have to take nationals seriously.
you scoff at her response, and quickly get to typing.
(9;40 p.m) you: i understand that. but you’ve promised me four different times about this movie, and at this point i don’t even want to go anymore.
(9;42 p.m) lottie: i know you’re upset and i’m sorry. but if i want to win nationals i have to practice really hard. harder than usual. right now that’s my main concern
you toss your phone onto your bed, not even bothering to respond. it was like talking to a brick wall. tomorrow you’d have to face her and talk about this in person. the thought alone causes a nauseous feeling to settle in the pit of your stomach. there was this wave of dread that washes over you, and for the first time in your relationship with lottie, you feel as though you two aren’t on the same page.
the next day at school was hell for lottie. you barely spoke to her; you didn’t sit with her and the team during lunch. she knew you were upset but she didn’t think you were this upset. you’ve always been so understanding about her passion for soccer, and you’ve never acted this way before. but… then again, lottie has never taken practice this serious. she just doesn’t want to let her team down, and she can see how much the girls want this. she wants it too, but she knows they have more on the line. tai wants a scholarship, and going to nationals will look great on a college application.
you’ll get over it. lottie tells herself. that day she sees you waiting for her by the bleachers; there’s an unrecognizable expression drawn onto your features. she just finished changing into her practice clothes and cleats, and she tries to smile at you, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “hey.” she says as she leans in to kiss you, but you tilt your head to the side in order for her lips to land on your cheek. “hi… we should talk. i’ll make it quick.” you promise and she nods uncertainly, a feeling of unease creeping up on her. “i don’t really like the way i’ve been feeling lately…” you start, and she opens her mouth to talk but you stop her.
“… i’ve always felt like you and i have been on the same page, but lately i just feel like your mind is strictly on soccer. for the entire year you’ve been spending extra time practicing, and you barely talk to me about anything other than it. you blow me off for practice and you’ve missed all of our date nights for the last three months.” you point out, and lottie shakes her head. “y/n, do you understand what’s at stake here? not just my future, but all of my teammates. i’m not just working this hard for me, it’s for my team. i’m sorry if you’re feeling a little ignored and craving attention, but until nationals are over, you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.” she states, sounding a bit frustrated.
you look shocked with her words; she’s never been that blunt and cruel. here you were telling her how you felt and she was being like this. lottie can see the look on your face, you look as though you’re about to cry. though she’s much too stressed to care, so instead of deciding to apologize like she normally would, she scoffs. “i don’t have time for this. every day is another problem with you. it’s getting annoying.” lottie snaps, and you try to blink away the tears as you clench your jaw. she sounds so much like her father (who she hates), it nearly makes you laugh.
“well, i’m sorry for wanting to spend some time with you. i’m sorry i actually believed you when you promised me you’d make time and put in the slightest bit of effort for me. that was clearly my mistake. don’t worry, matthews, i promise i won’t be a problem for you anymore.” you hiss, tears in your eyes as you sound angry and hurt. lottie watches you leave and she stands there, feeling like a complete asshole. before she can even consider chasing after you, coach ben blows his whistle, signaling for all the girls to get on the field.
so here’s the thing, when you promised lottie you wouldn’t be a ‘problem’ anymore, she wasn’t exactly sure what you meant. but the next day, you came to school with a small box of her things in your hands. you march right up to her, there was nothing but determination on your face. lottie wasn’t stupid; she knew what this meant and it causes her heart rate to pick up anxiously. “the rest of your stuff you can come pick up whenever. it was too big to bring to school.” you say, keeping your voice quiet so no one can hear. lottie looks like a kicked puppy, “wh-what do you mean?“ you almost feel bad about the clear fear in her tone as she realizes she’s losing you.
“it didn’t fit in the box, so you can come and pick it up whenever.” you repeat more clearly, as if you hadn’t been clear as day the first time. “i know that… i just mean— why are you giving me my stuff back?” she asks, completely afraid of the answer. you don’t respond, and the silence tells her everything. “you’re breaking up with me over a fight?” she asks a bit angrily, and you shake your head; your poker face faltering. “i’m breaking up with you because you act like you don’t want to be with me! i’m not asking you to stop prioritizing soccer, i just wanted a little effort, lottie. you couldn’t even give me that.” you point out, pushing the box into her arms.
“like i said, you can pick up your other stuff whenever you’re not too busy.” you practically hiss at her, before you turn around and leave her standing there. lottie feels as though she’s been slapped in the face. the one person she had figured would always be there, was now walking away from her and disappearing into the hoard of bustling students. natalie, who had been watching the entire ordeal from her locker, walks up to lottie. “what was that about? it looked serious…” natalie starts cautiously, trying to make sure her best friend is okay. lottie looks worse than when becky martin started telling the entire school about lottie being schizophrenic. but you were there for her throughout all of that; never caring about her diagnosis or thinking of her any differently. she was always your lottie. but now she wasn’t your anything.
lottie starts to tear up, and natalie’s eyes widen at the sight of the broken-hearted girl. “she dumped me.” lottie admits in a frail tone, a tone natalie has never heard from the raven haired girl. “shit… seriously? what happened?” natalie asks, and lottie proceeds to tell her best friend everything. she tells her all about how she began neglecting you at the begin of the year, and you being you, always let it slide. yet as she became more and more emotionally and physically unavailable, she began leaving you alone.
she tells natalie about how these last few weeks she was a total nightmare. she even forgot to text you some days. natalie looks shocked at this revelation; you two always seemed like such a great couple. you hadn’t even let anyone know there was trouble in paradise. the bell rings, and natalie clasps lottie’s wrists and begins to lead her towards the schools exit. natalie knew the last thing her friend needed was to be surrounded by a bunch of annoying students in class.
as soon as they get to the bottom of the bleachers, natalie flashes her a stern look.
“alright matthews, you screwed up, but i’m gonna help you fix it.” lottie looks shocked at natalie’s declaration, and she shakes her head. “why? why do you wanna help me?” she questions, and natalie shrugs. “you’re my best friend. plus y/n is a good person who actually gives a shit about you. you’re never gonna forgive yourself if you don’t fix it.” natalie’s voice is stern, and lottie nods in agreement.
“what should i do?” the yellowjackets sweeper asks uncertainly, and natalie offers her a mischievous smirk. “i have an idea that could work.” natalie admits, as she begins to give lottie a list of ways she could romance you. lottie listens, clearly very interested.
that weekend is the hardest. lottie has never gone longer than a day without hearing your beautiful voice. you two never really fought throughout your relationship; you learned pretty early into your friendship with lottie that her home life was mean and harsh enough. you never dared add any hurt to her life. when lottie was upset she quickly realized she could talk to you about anything; you were so easy to open up to, and no matter what you were doing you always made time for her.
the entire weekend lottie feels like trash. she realizes that she doesn’t even know how you’re doing. you two barely broke up, yet it feels like she hasn’t truly talked to you for months. god, maybe she was a terrible girlfriend. she put soccer before you, and now she doesn’t even feel like going to practice. though she knows she has to. she has an obligation to her friends and team… but she can’t help but feel like she let you down, and you didn’t know it but you were one of the most important people in her life.
now she fears that if none of natalie’s ideas work, she’ll lose you for sure. she’s tried to text you nearly every day since the breakup on friday, but you refuse to answer any of her texts. she even tried calling you on saturday night, but you didn’t pick up. when monday rolls around lottie comes to school with a huge bouquet of sunflowers and red roses. your two favorites. she hasn’t felt this nervous since she first asked you to be her girlfriend, except right now she knew you didn’t want to talk to her or even see her.
everyone looks at the raven haired girl as soon as she walks into school. surely everyone knows about your breakup by now, because mari is your best friend and she also seems to have the biggest mouth. not to mention she had been glaring at lottie all throughout practice on friday evening. she could tell you told mari everything and by the looks she was receiving she could tell everyone else knew now too.
as soon as she sees you standing by your locker talking to mari and akilah, mari’s eyes zero in on the tall raven haired girl making her way up to you. your best friend taps on you, and nods in lottie’s direction. you turn your head, and instead of your eyes lighting up at the sight of her and the bouquet, your large orbs fill with dread. her step falters a bit but she keeps her head high as she approaches you. “y/n… these are for you. i’m really sorry.” lottie’s voice is small, and you shake your head.
“they’re beautiful, but they aren’t going to fix anything.” you deadpan and lottie frowns. “i know that. but i thought maybe they could be the first step to fixing things?” she suggests and you glance at akilah and mari. you reach for lottie’s free hand and lead her to a secluded spot in the hall. “why are you doing this here? in front of everyone?” you ask her with supplicating eyes, and she knits her brows together. “because you won’t return my calls, and i haven’t stopped thinking about you. y/n, if you’d hear me out, i know i could fix this.” she pleads with you, and those eyes nearly make you cave.
you quickly remind yourself how you both ended up here, causing you to shut your eyes and take a breath. when you open them, lottie has a hopeful expression etched onto her features. “i gave you plenty of chances to fix it when we were together. for the last two months i’ve given you nothing but chances. you told me time and time again that soccer was your priority, and i respect that. so please respect my decision and leave me alone.” you whisper the last part a bit harshly as you turn around and storm away.
lottie stands there, heartbroken and ashamed. she looks at the flowers that seem to be taunting her. she crushes the stems in her hand as she approaches the nearest trash bin, tossing them in. so much for flowers and a heartfelt apology. lottie feels like a fool for even trying.
a week goes by and lottie is practically a walking zombie. she’s barely been eating or sleeping. she was so used to falling asleep on facetime with you, or falling asleep texting you… now she can barely get a wink of sleep. all she can think about is how mean to you she was the day before you two broke up. god, she can’t get that sad, puppy dog expression you flashed her out of her head.
“come on, lottie! where’s your head at!?” tai snaps in the middle of a scrimmage. lottie had been paying less attention to anything that didn’t have to do with you these days. it’s ironic, it took her losing you to realize what she had. her notes for her classes were empty lately, her parents didn’t even notice she was barely saying a word at home, and practice was the worst. lottie was so used to seeing you in the bleachers during most of her practices; you’d be watching her with this big smile on your face, or doing homework. you always looked so pretty. now you weren’t there and lottie never realized how happy seeing you sitting on those bleachers made her. how important she felt that you spent time watching her practice because you didn’t want to be away from her.
lottie doesn’t get her head in the game even after being yelled at by tai. in the locker room, its worse. “what the hell, lottie?? we’re this close to winning nationals and you choose now to start slacking??” tai asks harshly, natalie steps in before lottie can respond. “hey, leave her alone she’s had a shitty week.” natalie states sternly and tai rolls her eyes. “so have all of us! newsflash, the world doesn’t stop because lottie matthews is going through a breakup. we’re a team, meaning you need to get your mind together and focus on the game.” tai’s voice is angry and demanding.
lottie feels a surge of rage wash over her. “not everything is about soccer!” she snaps back loudly, taking the curly haired girl and most of the girls by surprise. “god, you’re all so worked up over this fucking game next week that we’ve all been nightmares! jackie, you and shauna have been at each offers throats for weeks, tai you’ve barely talked to van about anything other than nationals, laura lee has been praying to god for nothing but us winning, mar’s been a bigger cunt than usual, natalie is stress drinking again, and my girlfriend dumped me because i was ignoring her for months! for a sport i used to have fun playing, with a team who used to actually give a shit about each other!” lottie lets it all pour out like a leaky faucet, and everyone stands there dumbfounded by the outburst.
“lottie—“ tai starts but lottie slams her locker shut. “fuck this.” she hisses as she swings her nike duffle bag over her shoulder and storms out of the locker room. she doesn’t even bother changing out of her uniform. lottie’s blood is boiling and her teeth are gritting all the way to her car. she feels as though in a week her entire life has spiraled downhill. she’s been downhill more times than she can count, but she’s never been there without you. this sucks.
she seems to be so upset that she doesn’t even realize she’s driving in the direction of your house. she feels so lost, and it seems she ended up where she feels the safest. with you. lottie aimlessly approaches your door; she’s still in her soccer uniform and her hair is in loose pigtails. the way you always said made her look undeniably cute. she knocks on the door and looks down at her dirty cleats. she thinks about how unhappy you’re probably going to look to see her; she isn’t used to that. she hates it.
her eyes well up with tears and she sniffles, the door swings open before she can think to cover up the fact that she was crying. you had seen her through the peephole, putting on your best angry face before you answered the door. but as soon as you saw the broken girl in front of you, and you heard the sad little sniffle, your face softens immediately. “are you okay?” even though you know it’s a dumb question, you still ask because you don’t want to sound harsh. she doesn’t look like she needs anymore of that.
“i— i didn’t know where else to go.” she admits lowly, roughly wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. you give in quickly, stepping aside for her to come in. “what happened?” you ask her as she steps inside, taking her shoes off politely in a way that makes you smile. even in her sad state, she still remembers your mothers rules. “i got into a fight with tai… you were right, lately we’ve all been terrible. i’ve been terrible. to you especially. i’m really sorry, y/n.” she sounds sincere and sad, you can see her staring hopelessly at you; waiting for you to say something.
you press your lips together before letting out a sigh, turning your head away from her. “it’s okay. i understand. nationals are a lot of pressure, and i just think maybe right now it’s better if we’re just friends. i want a normal relationship, and i want my girlfriend to be as excited about prom as i am. i want to be able to go to the movies and have date nights without worrying about getting in the way of your schedule. i just think we want different things now.” you explain, trying to keep your voice light but she can hear the sadness laced through your tone clear as day.
lottie shakes her head rapidly, standing up and inching towards you. “i want those things too. i love our date nights, and you never get in the way of my schedule. i promise. i am excited about prom— at least i was… when i knew i was going with you.” lottie’s response is quiet and low, making you frown. “you never even asked me to prom, lot. it’s next month!” you point out and lottie flashes you those puppy eyes you could never resist when you were together. why does she have to be so cute?
“please go to prom with me.” she insists and before you can decline, and goes on. “i want to prove to you we still want the same things! if you still don’t want to be with me after prom… okay. i’ll respect your decision. but you have to let me try. please.” lottie sounds desperate, and she’s borderline begging. you let out sharp exhale, “fine. fine. i’ll go to prom with you, matthews. but i swear to god if you mess this up again, we’re done.” you warn her and she nods eagerly, reaching for your hands.
“i promise! i’m not gonna let you down this time!” she swears as she leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. “this times gonna be different.” she assures you, and you allow her to pull you in for a hug. you melt into her embrace, and you hesitantly wrap your arms around her. you can’t hope but help she’s telling you the truth this time. you suppose the only thing you can do is wait and see.
Why do you fall in love? Nothing could be more complex: because it is winter, because it is summer; from overwork, from too much leisure; from weakness, from strength, from the need for security, from the love of danger, from desperation, from hope. Because someone doesn't love you. Because someone does love you.
Simone de Beauvoir, Quand toutes les femmes du monde
Virginia Woolf, Vita Sackville-West and two dogs sitting on a grass bank. Monk’s House (Rodmell, England), 1933.
“I try to invent you for myself, but find I really have only 2 twigs and 3 straws to do it with. I can get the sensation of seeing you—hair, lips, colour, height, even, now and then, the eyes and hands, but I find you going off, to walk in the garden, to play tennis, to dig, to sit smoking and talking, and then I cant invent a thing you say—This proves, what I could write reams about—how little we know anyone, only movements and gestures, nothing connected, continuous, profound. But give me a hint I implore.”
– Virginia Woolf in a letter to Vita Sackville-West
It's been raining all day. I'm not old yet but I'm not young either- stranded in a limbo of young adult. All my friends are cities away, and I'm wondering who I am. My friends are photos and texts. My friends are video calls on Friday nights, most anyways. My friends are one call away but my bones remember the miles between us, hundreds- even thousands. I'm not old yet, but my shoulders bear the weight of countless goodbyes. I'm not young either. I can place a call but I stare at the rain. I can send a text but I write a stupid poem.
mary ruefle // richard siken, “the language of the birds” // heather christle, “then we are in agreement” // the epic of gilgamesh— trans. danny p jackson // jack campbell // laura alaina //
Most of the time, most days, I feel nothing. I don't feel anything. It is so boring. I wake up and I think, again, really? I have to do this again? And what I really don't understand is how come everyone else isn't screaming with, with boredom, too, and I try to find ways to make myself feel something. More, and more, and more, but it doesn't make any difference. No matter what I do, I don't feel anything. I hurt myself; it doesn't hurt. I buy what I want; I don't want it. I do what I like; I don't like it. I'm just so bored.
"What to say? That the end of love is a haunting / A haunting of dreams / A haunting of silence / Haunted by ghosts it is easy to become a ghost..."
"I've seen a lot of ghosts.
Just not the way you think.
A ghost can be a lot of things.
A memory, a daydream, a secret.
Grief, anger, guilt.
But, in my experience, most times they're just what we want to see.
Most times, a ghost is a wish."
"If nobody has died, why do I grieve? / How do I dress the body I will not meet? / How do I dress the body I cannot love?"
nature is a haunted house. but art is a house that tries to be haunted.
two ghosts, harry styles / byron eggenschwiler / the scientist, coldplay / the haunting of hill house / spirit hold, holly warburton / big god, florence and the machine / a metamorfose dos pássaros (the metamorphosis of birds) / the naomi letters, rachel mennies / ars poetica, aracelis girmay and final quote by emily dickinson
gamechangershow
vaporwave
romaincrisis
titsay
kianamaiart
areudirty
ellievsbear
pixelskylines
