Mahrez stood perfectly still, almost blending into the shadows. For those who did not have the all-seeing vision, or third sight— all they saw by the area he stood was a faint glimmer of golden light~ some who saw this might have also thought their minds were playing tricks on them.

He grinned. How long had he been at it? That is, doing what he found to be amusing. These humans always seemed to want to quarrel, argue, be at each others throats, literally finding different ways to hurt, or much worse take another person’s life! With each turn of the century, the one thing that found a way to forever win was that one thing that they all had such a great longing for- to have someone to spend the rest of their mortal human lives with.

Even with this work, it came with a grand cost. Every time that Mahrez worked on guiding one human to find their significant other, he ended up being placed with the weight of pain ever present which felt like needles striking him for each pair that was a good match. The pain was something that he could feel, but not easily pull out from the place he was broken…his immortal heart. It pained him at all times. Here he was with the task of matching folks, the height of his work was during the month of Saint Valentine. Folks in every realm kept sending requests, knowingly, or unknowingly, pleading to him for help with finding love.

Although it was a taxing assignment, one that he had to deal with come every Valentine season— he still charged himself up- soared high above the heavens that Galileo had observed through a telescope~ and shot his arrows of love that would work to bring two souls meant for each other side-by-side for as long as they have breath. Most of the other gods and goddesses prefer to call him: The Broken Fixer.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wUO4DIShaHA

#DerKaputteFixierer (c)

Dienstag

7/2/2k23.

i hold the remains with broken hands and it's difficult

setting stone with fractured bones

but who else will do it

my hair has grown too long

so i will cut it with bent fingers

when it looks bad i'll be glad it made you laugh

i listen to the pains i've felt

spoken from other mouths

and try to be detached from them

because nothing i've felt could be as important

why should i exist if not to persist

to walk on my broken feet

so i can help

so your life can be better

how else can i measure my value

if i'm not of service who am i

The plumber sat in his truck, thinking about going inside. Every day since his wife left, he sat in his truck with a six-pack debating going in. Melissa was all he had since they were twenty and met drunk in bar. He was arguing with a man and turned to see a woman was arguing with the man's wife. Ever since that bar fight, the pair had been inseparable. Yet, after the miscarriages and her becoming distant and hiding her phone, he had to try harder and harder to keep them together. Until one day, he came home with a six pack and a bouquet of roses to see her in bed with someone else. His best fucking friend. She left three days later, telling him that she was expecting a kid with Bill and they were moving to Kentucky.

The plumber put his truck in drive and revved the engine. He opened three beers and chugged them, put the truck in drive and sped the truck into his house. He could still hear Melissa screaming as he pinned Bill down and started beating his ass. She was his first love, though that was silly. He was well in his thirties when they met and had just clicked. He couldn't believe she could just--How could she just--Bill was bleeding all over his shirt and the plumber felt dizzy. He had never liked blood. His ears were ringing and Melissa was still screaming in his ears even though she had left years ago. She had already had her child, then another then a third. Though the plumber had a good job and was generally nice, she still left him.

The plumber could hear sirens in the distance. Hazily, he tried to get himself out of his truck. Then, he heard the sweetest voice he could ever imagine. Sir, don't try to get up. A white halo circled the silhouette of a woman with curly hair. Just lay back, I've got you. The woman chuckled nervously. You've sure done a number on yourself. I'm Jenny. Just relax. I'm not sure what made you do this, but I've got you now.

in a world where everyone is hurtful toward each other,

i have been blessed with a best friend who is never.

she is what i would call a broken fixer;

she has issues of her own, but still has time and energy to put into everyone else's,

while ignoring her own.

if she though for one second that she was stopping someone from being happy,

she would play dead on the spot, backing off for others' sake.

i've seen her put her whole life on hold to be there for someone.

she was for me.

she helped me grieve, and live,

after losing someone so close to me.

she showed me what it means to love, and to have faith,

and to never doubt myself or my abilities.

she solves everyone's problems,

and never expects anything in return.

when she's done helping one person,

it's onto the next,

leaving a little bit of her heart and soul in every life she touches.

she believes she is broken,

but she is strong; stronger than anyone she helps,

because she does it all, and still manages to love everybody.

she believes she is broken,

but really she is a fixer.

She had tried her hardest to always be there to help people, fix their problems, and offer support.

After years of this she realized there was no one there to do those things for her.

He problems became a black void.

Parts of her slowly chipped away. Until right underneath the noses of the people who she loved to help, she disappeared.

No goodbye.

No note.