Love in Dark Settings

So here I am, publishing stories about the propensity of a certain character in The Eternal Dungeon to self-destruct, and meanwhile, I'm trying to convince a close friend not to kill himself.

This is an on-going crisis; it started several months ago and is likely to last for many more months, because my friend's external circumstances are so bad. I'm not the only one involved in trying to keep my friend from killing himself - among other things, a professional counselor is involved - but I'm one of my friend's main sources of emotional support.

The worst part about this is that my friend (who is a member of the fanfic community, by the way) is an outstanding person. When people learn of our connection, they babble on to me about how wonderful he is. Even Doug (who is not easily impressed by my friends) speaks of how intelligent and engaging my friend is.

My friend says, "They just don't know the real me. They wouldn't like me if they did."

As an eyewitness to his "real me," I don't believe this for a single moment, but I wonder how many people inwardly feel that? How many people feel that their real self is icky, so that they need to hide their reality under a surface show of acceptability that will make them popular?

I know that I did. For years, I wouldn't allow myself to bring to the surface the icky stuff that was lurking under the surface, for fear that people would turn away from me.

Then the day finally came when I decided I had to bring it into view. And thus was The Eternal Dungeon written.