UPDATE

Hey pervs,

this update will be different than usual. But I want to do it, out of respect for you, because everything that has happened in recent months has had an impact on my creative process, and I hope that from now on everything will return to normal.

I'm a very open guy and I have no problem talking about my private life... and besides, I know people always like a little gossip.
For those who love gossip, enjoy:

It all started in mid-November. I met a girl (21 years old) at the gym—let’s call her “Gym Girl.” At the time, I was in an eight-year relationship with an amazing woman who truly gave me everything… except maybe that spark, that chemistry, which I thought had faded over time. Gym Girl and I hit it off instantly. We were drawn to each other in a powerful way. Within three weeks, we had both left our previous relationships and moved in together at my place. (Yeah, I know—I was being naïve. Lesson learned.)

From December to May, it honestly felt like I was living a dream. Everything seemed perfect—too perfect. But then the layers started peeling back. Gym Girl had a very traumatic past. She sees a therapist and a psychiatrist, and she’s now starting psychiatric medication. I know what you're thinking, but I thought : “Maybe I can be the one who finally helps her heal.” She even hit me with the classic line: “It’s different with you. No one’s ever treated me like this before.”

During that time, I was definitely less active here. While the comics still came out regularly, I was slower to respond to comments, and some translations got delayed. Most of my energy—emotional and creative—was going into her. Looking back, I think I had become emotionally dependent on her.

Then came the plot twist:
In June, she found out I hadn’t been fully honest about something. It wasn’t meant to be hurtful—I had kept it to myself thinking it was better that way. But for her, it broke something deep, and from that point on, everything started to shift.
I know I made a mistake. There had been no previous issues like that between us, and I immediately took responsibility. From that moment on, I tried to explain my reasons, to be transparent, and I apologized again and again—genuinely and constantly. But for her, that broke everything. She started oscillating between being devastated and completely cold. She said “something broke.” I understood her pain, but after three weeks of her telling me she didn’t know if she loved me anymore, I made a hard choice.
I told her, “I’m letting you go. Choose whatever makes you happy—even if that’s not me.”
We said goodbye through tears and hugs, and I thought that was the end.

Three weeks passed in total silence. Then, suddenly, she reached out again. Slowly. We practically got back together for a week—and just as suddenly, she pulled away.
She said she was in “a period of reflection.”
I gave her all the space she needed, told her I’d be here if and when she was ready.

Weeks passed again. Total silence. I was falling apart inside. So I wrote her a letter—one of the most heartfelt things I’ve ever written. I told her I understood her fears, and that if she ever wanted to try again—even slowly, even trembling—I’d be here.

She read the letter and broke down in tears. That night, she stayed over.
The next day? She vanished again.
I fell back into the cycle: hoping, hurting, waiting for just a simple “How are you?” from her.

Two more weeks passed. Finally, I messaged her and said:
“Please, if we’re really ending things, let’s at least do it face-to-face like adults. Don’t let this just fade away in silence.”

We met a few days ago and had the most honest conversation we’d ever had. She told me she had come back because she still had feelings for me, and those days together had made her happy. But then, during a session with her psychiatrist, she opened up about an old trauma—and it crushed her. She said she was terrified of men again, and that “Just being here with you tonight is a huge victory for me.”
She told me she didn’t want to enter a relationship at all—because even the slightest bit of emotional pain could send her into a downward spiral she might not recover from.
It was intense, but beautiful. We talked, held each other, kissed. She told me she would start coming back to the gym at my hours again—she had been avoiding them to not run into me.
I felt hopeful. I really thought: “We’ve finally made a step forward. We’re rebuilding something real.”

Then Monday came. She wasn’t at the gym.
Later that day, she posted an Instagram story taken by someone else—with a comment from a guy I didn’t recognize. My anxious brain went into overdrive, but my logical side said, “No way. We just talked three days ago…”

Still, something didn’t sit right. I walked by her house (don’t ask me why—I wasn’t thinking straight). Her window was open. I heard her voice… and a man’s voice.
I knocked. She shut the window.
Moments later, she came out of the building.

To keep it short:
She had been seeing another guy for a few weeks.
She spoke to me with complete coldness. No apology. Not even a “sorry” for letting me hope, for staying silent while she was happy with someone else. Nothing.
When I asked her why she didn’t just tell me the truth three days earlier—when we had that honest, emotional night together—she simply said it felt “superfluous.”
She even blamed me for waiting for her… as if I had done something wrong by holding on to hope, when she was the one who had never clearly said otherwise.
At one point, she even tried to wrap things up quickly—because she wanted to go back inside with him.

That’s the story. The rollercoaster of these past few months.

I’ve now blocked her on everything. Deleted her number.
She hasn’t tried to reach out. No call. No apology. Nothing.

And finally… I see things clearly.

Sharing this with you wasn’t easy, but it felt important—both for my own healing, and out of respect for all of you who support me.
I wanted you to understand that I haven’t been “slacking off” or losing focus for no reason. Something really heavy happened—at least, it felt heavy to me.
And while I’ve done my best to keep the content coming, I know I haven’t been as present as I wanted to be.
So… thank you. Truly. For your patience, your support, and for sticking around.
I’m slowly getting back on my feet—and I’m more motivated than ever to pour my heart into my stories again.