Black Eyed Susan by Saturdead

So that midsummer, I put together seven types of wildflowers again

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:02):
Back when I grew up in rural Minnesota, my mother
wanted me to keep in touch with my Scandinavian roots.
We haven't lived in the Nordic countries for three generations,
but there's still a couple of things that stick around.
Behavior will quirks mostly, and a couple of traditions that
have been with our family for as long as anyone
can remember. Putting porridge out for the forest gnomes was

(00:25):
one thing. My mom used to trick me with these
dolls that she'd put in the snow and point to, saying,
don't move too fast, you'll scare them. Let's not talk
about dancing around the may pole. That stuff's just embarrassing.
For The most peculiar tradition is the one about a
midsummer night's dream. I know that's a Shakespeare title, but

(00:48):
it's also a traditional Scandinavian thing, a little something like this.
On the evening of Midsummer, you are to collect seven
kinds of wildflowers, and then you bundle them up and
put them under your pillow. If you do, you're supposed
to dream of your one true love. And I have

(01:10):
three sisters. They were all about romance and predestination, and
I couldn't have cared less if I wanted to. But
every year they'd walk hand in hand, collecting wildflowers and
putting them under their pillows. And since I was too
young to wander off my own, I had to stick around,
that is, until they decided it was my turn. It

(01:38):
was my oldest sister who made the call. She was
twelve and I just turned seven. But she figured that
earlier the better you have to tell us what she
looks like, she said, Like if she's tall or thin
or fat. I bet she's fat, said my second oldest sister. Statistically,
she's Chinese or Indian, said the other. That's where there
are most girls. I tried to ignore them, but their

(02:01):
cackling got on my nerves. They gathered up some silky
aster blue eyed grass, silver leaf, wild bergmont blue sunflowers,
and ground plum, but couldn't get a seventh one. They
looked around, but they couldn't find one. I just wanted
to go home, so I picked up the first thing
I saw sticking out next to a rusted out barrel.

(02:25):
What about this one, I said, holding up a yellow
flower with a black spot. That's a black eyed Susan said,
my oldest sister. You're gonna marry a Susan grinned another
little Susie, Who gonna love you? Who sing?

Speaker 2 (02:41):
Sang the last.

Speaker 1 (02:43):
I rolled my eyes so hard they almost popped out
of my head as they cackled and teased, pulling my
hair up in a bow. They bundled up the wild
flowers and made me sleep with them under my pillow.
And I didn't notice anything strange at first, just a

(03:04):
night like any other. You have such vivid dreams when
you're a kid, like everything just happens faster, even sleep faster.
But this was something else entirely, it wasn't just a dream.
It was an experience. And the worst part is I

(03:25):
didn't even remember it. I just remembered that it was bad,
really really bad. It was so bad that I completely
blocked it out. I don't even remember waking up. I
just remember laying in the bathtub, submerged in cold water.
I looked up at my three sisters. They they looked terrified.

(03:48):
My throat was hoarse. I was wide awake, but I
couldn't even remember going to bed. Does it hurt? My
oldest ast Her voice was different, It was oh careful,
I shook my head. No, I said, I'm okay. It

(04:08):
sounded like it hurt. She continued, like it really hurt.
I think it was a bad dream. Was it her?
Asked my youngest sister, Did you dream of her? I
couldn't tell. It was just a dark space in the

(04:30):
back of my mind that made my pulse shiver when
I thought about it, And yet I knew the answer. Yeah,
I said, it was black eyed Susan. Now, I've been

(04:52):
teased by my sisters my whole life, but they never
teased me about black eyed Susan. They'd never seen me
like that. I'd woken up screaming at the top of
my lungs, rolling around on the floor. They thought I
was having a seizure. They took me to the bathroom
while my mom called an ambulance. We didn't talk about it.
They never had me checked for epilepsy, and I was

(05:14):
perfectly healthy otherwise. They talked a little about it being
some kind of allergic reaction, but I'd never seen a
reaction like that. Over time, we came to this unspoken
conclusion that those wildflowers gave me the worst nightmare of
my life. And in that nightmare, I saw my one

(05:36):
true love, black Eyed Susan. I wouldn't think much about
that night over the years to come. It became this
distant memory, like your first cold. But every now and then,
particularly around Midsummer, I would try to remember what that
dream had been like, and something inside me would sink

(05:58):
into the bottomless hole in my check. It teased me.
I could concentrate and i'd see it, but I didn't
want to. To have forgotten was a blessing, and I
knew better than to challenge it. But it's a weird
headspace to live in to have concepts such as true

(06:19):
love and marriage so closely associated with trauma, especially since
all other couples in my life were perfectly fine role models.
My mother and father were an extraordinary couple, and while
my sisters had some dating life drama, nothing bad ever
really happened to them. So as I got in my

(06:40):
teenage years, I didn't want to chase girls and flirt.
I didn't want to fall in love. I joked about
it a lot, but the feeling of meeting my one
true love felt like throwing my soul down an endless pit.

(07:02):
I tried to rationalize it away. It was just a
stupid phase a quirk. It became like a fun party
story to tell in my late teens. It was funny
in a way, saying I used to believe in such things,
But there was an asterisk stuck to that story every
time I told it, a little white lie. I never

(07:24):
stopped believing in it. It started to really bother me
when I was about seventeen. At that point, I'd been
in short relationships and I'd been in love, but I
couldn't stop thinking that it wasn't real, that true love
was out there, and that it was terrifying something that

(07:47):
would make my heart sink into my stomach. So I
decided to just bite the bullet and try the whole
thing again. To face my fears. At Midsummer, I put
together seven types of wild flowers again, ending with a
black Eyed Susan. As kids, we're very good at handling pain,

(08:13):
or at least we're resilient, we have time to heal.
But when you're seventeen, it hits differently. When I went
to bed that night, I had cold sweats, and I
couldn't stop thinking about what was waiting behind my closed eyes.
Would there be a reaction at all or I wasted

(08:33):
all this time being anxious about nothing. I closed my eyes.
I tried not to think about it. I counted down
from one hundred and then two hundred. I twisted on
a turn, trying to get the sweaty covers to stop
sticking to my skin. At the slightest stretch, my eyes
would pop open. I'd get this ache in my face

(08:56):
from trying to keep them closed. But after hours, something clicked.
My muscles relaxed, and I caught a whiff of the
flowers from under my pillow, and something inside me screamed
at me to turn back, to open my eyes, but
it was too late. It felt like looking at the

(09:20):
bottom of a pool, but straight ahead, a reflective shimmer,
ethereal but physical at the same time, like a night
sky that you could push your hands through. I fumbled
with my hands, trying to find something to hold on to.
There was this swirl in the back of my head,
like having a large drink on an empty stomach. Something

(09:41):
reached for me and touched my fingertips, something as hard
as fingernails. It poked and prodded me from different angles.
A strange voice seeped through me, neutral, genderless, and with
an unusual pronunciation.

Speaker 2 (09:57):
Where have you been?

Speaker 1 (10:02):
I tried to regain my footing, but there was nothing
to hold onto, just these protrusions from the dark. Finally,
I felt myself slowing down, steadiness control. Something came out
of the dark, eyes so black that their head look

(10:24):
hollow against the knight. A vaguely human skull connected to
an infinite mass, like a broken flower, growing out of
cracked concrete, muscle and vein, contracting and compounding at every angle,
ripples of flesh with every offset heartbeat spent so long,
something wrapped around my ankle, tightening come home. My eyes

(10:50):
snapped open, but I wasn't awake. I could feel her
wrapped around my ankle. I pulled away the covers and
watched my foot turn blue. It was bending, and I
felt thing. Then the bone snapped. I'd never experienced something
like that. I'd never broken a bone, and experiencing a

(11:12):
trimololar fracture in the comfort of your own bed is inhuman.
It hurts so bad you lose bladder control. And I
couldn't do anything but to fall out of bed and
writhe on the floor. But the pain wouldn't go away.
I just I screamed I tried to reach for my phone,
but it's like it refused to let me reach it.

(11:33):
A neighbor heard me, help came. It would take time
for the leg to heal, but bones men all the time,
but true love doesn't. I pushed the thought of love

(11:54):
and marriage out of my life for over a decade.
I'd shy away from coy smiles and flowery laughing or
Some people thought that I had a problem with my sexuality.
Others thought I was under some kind of religious repression.
I tried to explain that relationships just weren't my thing,
but it's hard to explain that reason. If I was

(12:16):
really pressed about it, I'd say it was a childhood trauma.
That usually stopped the questions. I'd do this for years,
a string of short term relationships where I kept hoping
and praying that I wouldn't fall in love, anything to
keep me away from that dark space. I couldn't tell

(12:37):
what was going to happen if I met someone who'd
make me feel things, real things. But life isn't so simple.
It would take me years. But when I turned thirty one,

(13:00):
I met her. Lila hit me in like a summer's breeze.
The first time I talked to her, it was a
birthday party and she was invited by a mutual friend
of ours. Lila had been working overtime and forgotten all
about the party, so she joined at the last minute,
and she showed up in an oversized hoodie and yesterday's jeans,

(13:24):
spending most of the night at the snack table looking
at her phone. Her enthusiasm started and stopped at bobbing
her head with the music. When I saw they were
out of pretzels. I went up to talk to her,
looking for snacks. I asked, your mom's a snack. She
snapped back, all right, yeah, but I was talking about

(13:46):
the pretzels. She looked at me like I struck gold.
She'd been so hell bent on the idea that I
was coming up to hit on her that it never
even crossed her mind that she'd eaten a full bowl
of salty pretzels. She snort laughed, apologized, and I felt

(14:09):
my heart skip a beat. I knew it was trouble.

Speaker 2 (14:17):
I liked her.

Speaker 1 (14:21):
Lilah was a work from home back end developer. She
spent most of her days trying to steer her team
through rough deadlines and absurd last minute changes. She explained
it as trying to teach cats algebra while falling out
of an airplane. She cycled through periods of insane stress,
two weeks of coasting, which she'd made into an absurd routine,

(14:42):
clearly something she couldn't keep up forever. We didn't start
dating right away. We chatted a bit and found out
that we had a lot in common. She'd been dating
this one guy since she was fourteen years old and
had only recently turned single, so she wasn't eager to
get back on the market. She didn't mind my vague trauma.
She just liked being around me. I think our friends

(15:07):
realized we were dating long before Lilah or I did.
We just spent time together until one day when we
didn't want it to stop. Still, I couldn't help but
think of Black Eyed Susan. No matter how soothing Lilah's
snores were, I could still lay awake at night. There's

(15:32):
a warmth in my chest as I imagine the smell
of wild flowers from my pillow, an ache in my
leg where I could touch the scars if I, if
I were to truly fall in love, what would happen

(15:55):
those nights? Came more often, from once every six months
or so to every every week, and after having dated
for about a year, Lila was eager to help me
get over the whole thing. She knew it was a trauma,
and she knew I didn't want to talk about it,
but she couldn't let it go.

Speaker 2 (16:13):
And of course.

Speaker 1 (16:15):
She couldn't. She was in a loving relationship with a
man who couldn't say he loved her, and all she
knew was that something had happened. It got to a
point where it was driving a wedge between us. She
wanted to help, and I wanted her to understand, and

(16:36):
I could only think of one way to show her.

Speaker 2 (16:42):
I had to.

Speaker 1 (16:43):
Do it again. On Midsummer, we went outside to pick flowers.
Lila was excited, but her smile faded when she felt
how serious I was. I did what I'd done every
other time. I picked six types, and a final flower

(17:04):
would pop out of nowhere, and of course it would
be the black Eyed Susan. I bundled them up. I
could feel a phantom pain cutting into my leg, which
gave me a limp.

Speaker 2 (17:22):
So what are these for?

Speaker 1 (17:24):
She asked? For sleep, I said, and I'm gonna need
your help. Sure, Yeah, whatever you need. If it looks bad,
I need you to wake me up. How do I
know if it's bad? I shook my head and I
took her by the hand.

Speaker 2 (17:43):
Still know.

Speaker 1 (17:47):
I did some preparations. I had gauze and painkillers. Bilo
was prepared to call for help if necessary. She still
had no idea what was going on, but I could
tell she was nervous, and again so was I. The
problem was I couldn't sleep. I just lay there and
she watched me. After about an hour, she crawled up
next to me. She knew it was something that happened

(18:10):
when I slept, but she wanted to calm me down.
You need to see this, I said, it's okay. She whispered,
go to sleep. Promise you'll keep watch. I promise. I
didn't turn my head to look. I trusted her, so

(18:32):
I closed my eyes. I let my breathing slow, and
I felt my head fill with the smell of wildflowers.
It was like waking up again, A mild tingle covering
my body, like being draped in spiderwebs. I blinked and blinked,

(18:57):
but it was it was all black. A long, drawn
out breath echoed like a field of sighing flowers, beautiful,
a growth coming out of the dark, translucent like living
glass hardening into soft marble. A woman dragging her legs

(19:20):
through the night. When she was trudging through a swamp,
she grabbed me by the hand, pulling me along. Felt
like I was carried through a current. I got to
see the bedroom from above. I lay there and Lilah
was sitting next to me. I can't really explain what
it felt like, sort of like watching your reflection blink.

(19:43):
I could see her struggling to stay awake, nodding on
and off. She was trying so hard. Is that what
beautiful looks like? Black eyed Susan asked, I don't even
know who you are. I said, of course, of course
you do. She said, I am your one true love.

(20:06):
The words slithered, drawn out, s poisoned the air. I
tried not to look at her. It was like the
opposite of staring into a sun, the light in your
eyes beginning to die, and you could feel yourself grow colder, slower.
You can't be I said, that's impossible, but I am.
She said, you love me. She turned her attention to

(20:30):
the room, hovering in front of us. I could see
little tendrils creep under the furniture, reaching for Lila and me.
Long fingerlike limbs in layered scales, bending in painful angles.
One pulled down her phone, another moved a chair. Two
of them struggled to move the bed. What are you doing,
I asked, passing the time. One of the tendrils crossed

(20:55):
around my stomach. There was pressure, like someone tightening a belt.
It cut into my hips. Before the pain, I could
feel a slight pop. If you love me, why are
you hurting me? I asked, How else are you going
to get used to it? She asked back, get used
to what? She turned to me, breath reeking of ammonia

(21:17):
with every spit of a word us. A hand crossed
her on my neck. My eyes flung open. I couldn't breathe,
I couldn't feel my legs. I flailed with my arms,
reaching for Lilah. She got out of bed, only to
find that her phone was gone. What's wrong, she asked.
What happened? She had to cover her mouth When she
saw my neck. She grabbed my arm, but the moment
she did, something took hold of her. In the corner

(21:38):
of my eye, I saw her getting pulled into the
other room. Clawing at the carpet with a terrified shriek,
my left arm rose out of the bed, as if
carried by an unseen string. Two of my fingers popped
out of their sockets like a painful countdown. I couldn't scream,
I could barely think no oxygen. Elilah came running back
and grabbed me. She pulled on my arm and something

(21:59):
like oh. I fell out of bed, gasping for air.
She cradled my head in her arms. I could see
color returning to my hands as two fingers turned purple.
I didn't feel a thing, but I would in a
couple of seconds. Hold on, Islah said, hold on. Her
phone was gone. She bandaged my fingers and tried to

(22:24):
keep them straight. I'm sorry, I gasped, I'm so sorry.
She just shook her head, trying to process what had happened.
There were no words. We just stayed there on the floor,
but you could see something in the corners of the room,
like little quirks and shades. Something was waiting for me

(22:49):
to let my guard down. What's hurting you, she asked,
What is it? Something broke in me as I swallowed
my words.

Speaker 2 (23:01):
But that Lilah deserved the truth. I think she loves me.

Speaker 1 (23:15):
Over the coming weeks, I tried my best to explain.
Lilah was terrified. She'd never seen anything like it, and
there was no explanation that could settle her nerves. It's
one thing to know someone you care about has trauma,
but it's another thing entirely to experience something impossible that

(23:36):
can make or break you. But Lilah didn't break. She
started asking questions, why was I targeted? What was this thing?
What did it want? But things were getting strange. It's
as if thinking about Black Eyed Susan brought her closer

(23:56):
to us in a physical, literal way, like we were
built towards something. Oh, it's about movement in the shadows.
I noticed furniture out of place and hear creaking doors
in the middle of the night, and of course it
had to be her.

Speaker 2 (24:11):
She was playing with me.

Speaker 1 (24:14):
Lila would stay up at night reading about various Scandinavian traditions,
the cast iron, scissors under the pillow, the midsummer pole,
the year walk, trolls, elves, dwarfs, gnomes. She gave me
lists of things to ask my parents about to see
if our family had been targeted by something ancient or evil.

(24:36):
But weeks would come and go, and we wouldn't be
anywhere closer to an answer, and the shadows would grow longer,
things would disappear, and every night, when I closed my eyes,
I would catch a whiff of earthly wildflowers. Things would

(24:59):
quickly progress beyond tricks and shadows. At one point I
was tripped while walking down a flight of stairs. By
the other times something pressed down on the gas pedal,
sending me straight through a red light. It's a miracle
no one was hurt. Bilo wouldn't go unscathed. Either, electronics
would break or go missing. Odd sounds would wake her
up in the night. She told me that sometimes she'd

(25:21):
see a silhouette outside the window, as if someone was
trying to catch a peak of us. Every time she
looked closer, it would turn out to be fallen leaves
or a peculiar branch. It was stressful, but there wasn't
really an option. What else could we do to stick

(25:43):
together and love one another? I I don't remember the
moment we moved in together just made sense. We spent
all of our time together anyway, She just moved more
and more of her stuff in, and all of a
sudden your place was pretty much empty. So, yeah, we
lived together. Wasn't really a conscious decision. Lila had a

(26:08):
couple of rough ideas about what that thing might be
God a binder with ideas ranging from Arthurian mythology to
jin and some kind of Polish demon bird. None of
them fit perfectly though. Frankly, it was just such an
odd thing for it all to be tied to this
one ancient tradition. How could this thing be my true love?

(26:32):
What was I missing? We figured it had to be
something connected to that very first night, back when I
was a kid, when they had to put me in
the bathtub to wake me up. For a full year,
all we did was try to make it to the
next day. It affected pretty much every aspect of our lives.

(26:52):
The way we slept at night, the way we cooked,
the way we did a laundry. There'd always be something
messing up the rhythm of the day. It has exhausted us,
not just mentally and physically, but socially. We stopped going out. Hell,
we barely even talked, as said, We kept our heads down.
We tried not to think about it too much, silently

(27:13):
hoping for the problem to solve itself as Lilah's binder
gathered dust. Once the next Midsummer came around, there was
a difficult discussion to be had. Can't live like this?
She sat me down at the kitchen table. The light
bulb it burned out somehow, despite only being two weeks old.

(27:37):
I'm sorry, I said, I wouldn't blame you if I'm
not going anywhere. She said, you know that, So what
do we do? She looked around. The kitchen faucet was
leaking again. Suppose we ought to try something, she said,
got any suggestions? She could kill us. I said, we

(28:01):
can't go there. Maybe we don't have a choice. I
just sat there in the dark, counting the seconds. She
was right, of course, but that didn't mean I had
to like it. As summer came, we decided that we
would do this together. We got a single large pillow

(28:24):
and gathered the flowers together. Didn't say a word. We
just walked along the wildflowers as low rumbles lingered on
the horizon. A damp taste in the air is a
storm brewed. But to me, all I could see was
the woman I loved how she carefully brushed her hands
against the tall grass. Even now she could find something

(28:46):
to appreciate. Tradition, ritual, myth be damned. At that moment,
there wasn't a force in the world that can convince
me that she was anything but my actual true love.
We rounded out our wildflowers with a black eyed Susan.

(29:08):
It was hidden next to a rusted old barrel, as
if trying best to hide. But like every other year
I'd done this, I'd find one. With all seven wildflowers
in hand, we bundled them up and wandered home. Hand
in hand. We hugged each other tight as we went

(29:28):
to bed. Some Way, somehow, we would make it through
the night.

Speaker 2 (29:36):
We had to.

Speaker 1 (29:40):
When I opened my eyes, something felt different. I thought
I was standing in sand, but it was more like
a fine concrete dust. The moon covered most of the
night sky, but I couldn't see any stars. There were
black trees in the distance, leafless and skeletonized by years
of thirst. Along the horizon was a single large tree,

(30:03):
tall enough to almost reach the moon itself, and apocalyptic
vision of anything. Who are you? Some melodic voice, kind
but unsure. I turned around. Lilah My first thought was
that she looked taller, but that wasn't it. She was

(30:27):
the same as always. It was me that had gotten shorter.
My hands were smaller. I looked down at the seven
year old version of myself, still dressed in my most
comfortable childhood jammies. Lilah didn't really sound any different, but
the child's ears hear things in other ways. She she

(30:50):
had the most beautiful voice. It's me, I said, somehow,
you're really cute, she smiled. But I don't get it.
I don't either. Maybe maybe we're not supposed to. Maybe
We wandered down a trail hand in hand. There was

(31:13):
no one around, no wind blowing through dead planes, no
birds in the sky, no chirping cicadas, and no rustling leaves,
just feet on dust. There's no one here, I said,
this can't be it. Did we do it wrong? She asked,
I don't think so. She's usually here by now. Lilah blinked,

(31:37):
looking around. Then something dark settled over her eyes. What
if she is? She let go of me and brushed
her arms up and down in a self hug, something
she usually did when stressed. Who wandered around for what
felt like hours, nothing happened, No one came to disturb us.

(32:02):
It was just her, me and nothingness, no black eyed
Susan and nothing to tear us apart. Does this mean
you're my true love? She asked, I mean I am
dreaming of you. That would make you mind too, I smiled.

(32:27):
I thought that was occupied. I thought so too, But
there was no one there to challenge that claim. We
just smiled at one another. That had to be it.
Despite it all, something good had to come out of this.

(32:50):
But no matter where we went, though for how long
nothing happened, we started to worry. We weren't waking up.
We didn't get hungry or thirsty or tired. It was
just this complete stage of emptiness. We had walked down
forgotten paths for what felt like hours, strolling past sand,
burnt concrete ruins. I don't know how much time passed.

(33:12):
It might have been days, it might have been months.
It was impossible to tell. And Lila always had this
amazing ability to make every moment.

Speaker 2 (33:19):
Pass by in a flash.

Speaker 1 (33:22):
She was impossible not to love. Even then. Even there,
we'd make jokes and laugh, and though I couldn't get
over the feeling of being stuck in my younger self.
You don't realize how much you've changed until you step
back into old shoes like that. And then then I

(33:42):
noticed something, A flicker of yellow. Right there behind a
rusted out barrel was a black eyed Susan, the same
yellow flower I'd found on that fateful midsummer night as
a kid. I don't know how I recognized it, but

(34:04):
I did. It was the same flower. It had to be.
I picked it up and showed it to Lilah. Strange. Huh,
I said, only one of these I've seen around. I
wonder what it does? She said, you think it means?

(34:26):
Her voice cut out. The light warped in front of me,
blurring like I was watching through a thin layer of
rushing water. I could feel a tingle in my eyes.
Lilah looked different further away. Don't go, she called out,
What are you doing. I'm not. I just picked up this.
I held it out and dropped it, giving her one

(34:49):
last flower. We drifted apart. Something shifted I had rolled back,
and I felt this intense heat settling into my head.
Then a coolness, someone trying to lower my temperature. Young voices, terrified,
Lilah drifting further away, screaming at me to stay with her.

(35:12):
Her voice goes from beautiful to desperate to to something else.
She would scream how much she loved me, and then
scream at how much she hated me. And I would
leave her in that place for what would equate to eternities,
for her to twist and turn, in place where she'd

(35:33):
have nothing but her thoughts and regrets, where a starless
sky would seep into her, whispering things to do, ways
she would play whenever I returned, her head spinning with
tails of shin and mares and demons. It would just
be seconds passing as I felt her disappear. But in
those seconds there would be eons long enough for a

(35:58):
body to forget what human and looked like, for a
mind to forget what love is supposed to be, for
a word or phrase to change true love. An ammonia
reeking scream reflected off a fractured space as she reached

(36:18):
for me, trying to pull me back through the breaking light,
a hand so warm that it burned my face. How
could I be so cruel as to leave her for
endless time to suffer? How could I be so selfish?

Speaker 3 (36:33):
Clat kite Susan Lilah, my one true love. And then
I woke up.

Speaker 1 (36:52):
My head burst through the water as I looked out
at my three sisters. I was seven years old, still
in my Jammy's submerged in the bathroom of my childhood home,
and as healthy young minds do, my memories healed themselves,
sealing away a trauma for me to uncover. Years down
the line, life would turn out the same way, awkward

(37:15):
teenage years, short relationships. I'd come back to the broken
place time and time again, and she would play her games,
reminding me of the betrayals she felt, and I wouldn't understand.
That is until one night when I woke up alone.
We'd gone to bed together, but only one had made

(37:37):
it back. I'd live the life twice and I hadn't
even realized it. I stumbled in the shower, set at
the cold and collapsed. I could think of one thing
to say, I'm sorry, I'm so so another view of

(38:06):
the world from behind a shimmer, be it warm tears
or running water. Today I'm forty seven, never married, no
serious dating. I go back to Lila every year, hoping

(38:29):
I can find something to remind her of what she
used to be. I've tried bringing things along, something to
bring her back with me, have yet to find anything useful.
It doesn't work like that. Sometimes I try to stay
a little longer, but the pain is unbearable. I suspect

(38:51):
one day she'll kill me and I won't come back.
I suppose that's the only way this can end. I
try not to think about it, but when I do,
I try to convince myself that I'll end up the
same way as her. Maybe we could find solace in

(39:13):
our madness. Maybe we'll live together in a paradise of dust,
strange moons.

Speaker 2 (39:21):
I don't know.

Speaker 1 (39:24):
I don't think that old traditions just show you true love.
I think it'll take you to a place where you
can meet. But perhaps that place isn't what it used
to be. Maybe there used to be more flowers dancing.
I asked my sisters about what they've seen, the times
they've done this, and all they tell me about is

(39:45):
a handsome man blue skies. Yes, we don't not go
to the same place. And after all, true love isn't
the same for everyone. If the truly is someone for everyone,
well then must face some hard facts. They could live
across the world, They could have passed away, and maybe

(40:10):
they're just not what you expected. But the older I get,
the less I worry.

Speaker 2 (40:22):
Maybe I'll wake up.

Speaker 1 (40:22):
In that bathtub a third time years from now, and
if not, then at least I get to see her again.
There must be something of Lilah left in Black Eyed Susan.
There has to be hor else she wouldn't still be

(40:47):
my one true love. Whither kids, It's me, mister Greepasta,
and I just wanted to thank you so much for
watching tonight's video or for listening to tonight's episode of
the podcast once again. My book is available on Amazon.
It is Creepypasta Collections, Volume one and Volume two. They're

(41:09):
always available if you guys want to check those out.
Some of my favorite authors that I've worked with over
my career are published in this book. I've curated all
of it as well as written the forward. I hope
you guys enjoy it. Check it out. It's in the
link in the description down below if you ever want
to find out more. And as always, I want to
give a very big thank you to everybody who supports
me over at patreons patreon dot com slash mister Creepypasta.

(41:30):
I cannot thank you guys enough. Thank you guys so
much for being supporters. That goes for everybody who is
down in the description as well as Ascid System, Ball Arms,
the Rat, Bake, Ratler, Random, Mendoza, Renna Crow, Brimstone, Panemonium, Caltuna, Shame,
Smoker Dealer, Chicago head Man, Corey Kenshin, Crown Up by
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(41:51):
Jerry Hour Minute, Second Time, Jay Keams, Jettis, Pat Jordan Humble,
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guys so much for being here, thank you for listening,
thank you for watching. In sweet Dreams