It started when he said we need to talk, next thing I knew he said it's not you its me, and then he packed up and moved out. Some wounds can't be healed by a stimpak. Pictured here, the moment he broke my heart. https://imgur.com/a/BaZwHwf
Edit The whole story: I had just set up my camp above the Watoga power substation. I heard a terrifying roar and when I looked below I saw a deathclaw, the deathclaw, my deathclaw, tearing some giant ants apart. I was enraptured watching him disembowel and then feast upon the critters. He had caught my eye, and against all odds I caught his.
He sauntered over with a confident gait that exuded raw masculinity. He asked if I wanted some ant meet, I was shy but I managed to squeek out something about being a herbivore. I thought that would scare him away but he persisted. He asked if i lived around here and I told him I'd just moved in. He let me know that he'd lived here since 2018. I invited him up but he said he couldn't go up stairs. I told him it was easy but he said something about how his pathing wouldn't allow it. His vulnerability in that moment struck me, sure he was 10 feet tall and made to kill but the truth is that the only thing he was slaying was my heart.
I moved my camp to ground level and invited him in, he was only planning to stay for a bit, but he ended up staying the whole night, and the next, and the next. As we lay down in my heart adorned bed, i told him he would be my first, that i never found anything to love in my life in the vault. He told me I would be hist first too, then we melted into each other. It was as if we were opening the secrets of the universe as we opened our bodies to one another. It was a whirlwind of flesh and scales, lust and passion, sex and sensuality. I was covered in claw marks, they burned, I burned but deathclaw and I burned together. I'm not ashamed to admit that the protectrons in Watoga must have had to check their sensors because the sounds me and deathclaw made were unearthly.
Looking back at it now I suppose the game was rigged from the start. My friends all saw it, Sophia, Wanderer even the Forager hated my new found love. When they were at my camp they would go so far as to try to kill him. But I was blind and insisted that they leave, I wouldn't let them get between me and my love. But they must have known he would break my heart. I should have known too. When I found him with vendor Phoenix, when he stayed out all hours of the night, when he came home late and smashed my turrets and when he gave me the woopsies. The evidence was there but he always had an excuse, and I always wanted to believe me. He'd put one of his big talons up to my lips and assure me that I was the only one for him. My brain knew I was being conned, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
And then, one day it was over. It seems like something that shatters your world should come with sound and fury. A tempest that breaks open a dam and envelops you, but no, the world can change on a dime, on a day like any other. He sat me down, told me that he'd always love what we had together. That word, had, past tense not have but had, it was over, we were over, he'd used that word had. I never imagined three letters could hurt so much, but they did he broke me with three letters, H-A-D. The picture above captures it all, his hand on my knee, looking into my eyes as I gazed back at his. That image, a heart breaking, my heart breaking. And then he was gone, he took his things and left. It was all so… quick and yet so permanent.
It makes me sad, … my Deathclaw being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my love.
I suppose I've moved on some, I moved my camp, the old one had too many memories. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't go back to Watoga every now and then, stroll past the substation and hope to catch a glimpse of him. I never do. I'm not sure where he went but hes gone, though when I see a slaughtered brahmin I like to think it was his lunch. I still care, I won't tell you I don't. It hurts to care, but I suppose that hurt is all I have left of him, I'd rather have the hurt he left me than nothing at all. I know its messed up, but this whole thing was messed up and yet it was also so very right. I have the hurt he gave me I suppose that will have to be enough. I don't regret it, I hold onto those memories, they are sacred to me, special, they can't be tarnished. But those memories are like a nuke blast, you can't look at them directly, so I tuck them away until the creep back into my consciousness and I relive all of it again. I’ve learned to love that pain. So I guess in a way I still have the love he gave me. Some wounds cant be healed by a stimpak, and others, like these scars I bear, shouldn't be healed at all.
The next time you see a deathclaw, I know you'll shoot it, I have no illusions to the contrary. But after you down it, once its gone, spare a moment, say a prayer, the deathclaw you just killed, may be the deathclaw that stole my heart and if it is, don’t tell me, because even after all I’ve been through, I still like to image the world as one with him in it.
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