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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 17:12:42 GMT
I don't think I want to deciper the bitter slew of half-hearted profanity that comes to mind as a response to that. I don't know why she has to come in here and make sense like that.
I think that made sense anyway...or at least I got the gist of it.
"Both, alright? That I almost did and that I didn't...couldn't, can't..."
And fuck, did I say that out loud? I was only half-intending to say it, but I suppose it's not important. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but nothing does. And there's more to what she said that I could reply to, but that's what she wants to know so there we go.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 17:18:39 GMT
"All right. That's all I wanted to know."
This is said immediately, in a reflexive sort of 'okay, calm down' way, but on second though I'm not really sure if that actually is all I want to know. I think I might also want to know why it bothers him that he "can't" kill, but then I suppose that's just him. It bothers me when I can't cry, for heaven's sake. What kind of person wants to kill or cry?
And also... just a quick little thought here... since when is it 'can't' anyway?
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 17:25:04 GMT
"Good, I'm glad you're satisfied."
Now go away and leave me alone, leave me to brood...leave me to mourn the part that's missing. Then, like you said, we won't have to bring this up again and that'll be lovely.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 17:30:39 GMT
"Well, not entirely. I still don't... understand it." I shrug slightly. "And I still can't do anything. And I still want to know how this happened, if you're serious that you honestly can't... that you're suddenly incapable of killing. And I'm probably irritating you so I'm sorry and... right, I'll go sleep now. Or try to." I shrug again.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 17:36:41 GMT
"If I could do it, I would have done." I mutter.
My will power is...virtually non-existant, so it's not as if I would have stopped because I wanted to, if I even did want to. So I suppose maybe I could, if I could somehow force my way past the block of general guilt and self-disgust and hazy half-memories of Azkaban and suicide attempts...but I don't think I can.
"Right...go and sleep now." I agree, nodding slightly.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 17:40:40 GMT
Oh, right. Now I'll go and sleep, when he's just said out loud that he'd prefer to be a killer than not. Phrased that particular way... I don't know, there's something disturbing about it. Not just 'I can't kill' but 'I would if I could.'
"So why didn't you then?" I ask quietly. "Why can't you? Do you even have any idea?"
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 17:59:07 GMT
I don't think I meant to say that out loud, meant to just agree that she should go.
I snapped out of it. I think that's it. I snapped out of that and back into this...this half-existence that I'm in the rest of the time.
So I just shake my head mutely, tipping my head forward again so I can stare at my knees rather than the ceiling.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 18:06:34 GMT
Right... of course. Of course he doesn't reply. Maybe I should just go to bed.
"Look, I just have to say that it's mildly terrifying to hear that if you could, you'd've killed someone again. And I'm sorry if that sounds a bit self-absorbed because I'm sure that for whatever reason it's fairly upsetting and/or annoying. And... now I really am leaving."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 18:13:51 GMT
Well, how the hell do you think I feel?
If she thinks it's mildly terrifying then what the hell am I supposed to think? I'm sane right now...well, debatable, but I'm saner than I was earlier and it's not exactly nice to know that I feel that way, that I want to kill someone, but I can't help it. I can't help being that way.
I happen to find the idea of her mutilating her fingers and the thought of walking in on her trying to suffocate herself mildly terrifying, or at least disturbing and unpleasant, but I guess she can't help being that way.
"Right." I murmur under my breath.
So now she really can leave then, whether she finds me mildly terrifying or not...I really can't help it. And I don't like the idea of her leaving, thinking that, actually...so I say after a very brief pause, "I can't fucking help it, alright?" as if this makes it any better.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 18:19:56 GMT
I grimace slightly. That's true enough.
I know, I'm sorry." I shake my head. "I don't know; I just don't understand it, that's all."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 18:29:29 GMT
Ah, so that did work...a little bit, anyway. I didn't want an apology, didn't want a 'I don't understand' because I don't understand it either but I think we've already established that.
So I just half-shrug and half-shake my head again.
I half-want to tell her that I don't understand why she'd cut open her own finger so I guess we're even, but I don't really want to get into that rather ciricular argument again.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 18:38:51 GMT
Hm. I don't know if I ought to reply to that or not. But I guess we have established he's a sadist, I'm a masochist, and neither of us understands the mindset of the other.
Why in the hell have you not gone back to bed yet?
That's a very good question. I pause a moment, shrug, kiss him softly, and finally get up off the floor. But it's funny, when you're tired you really can't distinguish between sudden insight that needs to be shared and random nonsense that should be ignored. So I pause at the doorway, turning around and tilting my head thoughtfully.
"You know, I wonder if that's why we're together. You enjoy the pain of others and I'm a masochist."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 18:46:38 GMT
I consider objecting to that for a moment, because it's not as simple as enjoying pain. It's not all pain that I like, and I like some forms more than other. And it's not always the pain itself, rather the control and the games and the general...the entertainment. But there's no point in getting pedantic.
And it's not as if I enjoy her pain, if that's what she means. Not because I get some sort of perverse pleasure from her hurting herself, quite the opposite. So if she thinks I'm just being some parisitic sadist and using her to get a cheap shortcut to someone elses pain just because she's predisposed to masochism then she's wrong.
"I don't enjoy your pain, you know. I'm not comfortable with your masochism."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 18:49:18 GMT
"I didn't say you did." I shrug slightly, then shake my head. "... Never mind. Stupid thought anyway."
And it's not like I enjoy the sort of pain inherent in a relationship like ours, either. So really that statement of mine just doesn't make sense at all.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 18:54:58 GMT
I shrug. I guess I missed whatever she was trying to say then, preoccupied and self-absorbed as I am.
And she's been leaving for several minutes now and not yet managed it. I wonder if she's noticed that.
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 18:58:11 GMT
"... Dammit," I mutter after a moment for no apparent reason, shaking my head. "Look, I really am going to bed now. And... and don't... I don't know." Don't beat yourself up? Don't wander off and try to see if maybe you were wrong and you really can kill? I don't know.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 24, 2009 19:04:22 GMT
"Alright."
I don't know what she just told me not to do, but I suppose it doesn't matter. I don't have any intention of doing anything other than sit here until I get bored of it.
"Well...goodnight then."
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Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 24, 2009 19:10:04 GMT
I nod, very nearly saying something else, but there's nothing else to say and I'm pretty sure I've stood here quite long enough.
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