|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 16:47:07 GMT
I really do hate choices. Especially choices that shouldn't be choices at all, choices that should never've come into existence. Like choosing who to love, who to believe, who to have faith in. You can't actually choose any of the above - it isn't possible - but you have to make yourself pretend that you can. Because you can't have both, just like you can't be on both sides. Sooner or later, one of the sides will choose for you by calling you a traitor. If both of them call you a traitor, then you're really screwed, but even if you're lucky and one side understands, you still don't get all that you want because you want the other side to accept your support as well. Or what you really want is to have everybody play nice together, but certainly that doesn't work.
And of course it's even worse when you're choosing who to love - or choosing who to be with, more accurately, which includes figuring out who you love. But not choosing. Never choosing. It just doesn't work that way.
And sometimes, that's the easy part. Sometimes, if you let yourself actually think about it, you realize you were an idiot to ever think that it was love in the first place. Maybe it's a form or love, stirred into confusion due to a childish crush, longtime affection, and pity, but it's not the real thing and now you're just a fickle, heartbreaking whore who really should have known better instead of messing two people about. Sure, there was still a choice involved, but you were also a bit of an idiot to think it was so difficult. How can it be hard to decide between mutual love that's doomed to failure versus unrequited love that maybe would work out in theory but because it's unrequited probably not?
So that was all stupid. It was all just a mess primarily of your own making... and now, as your punishment, you get stuck in a new mess that isn't your fault. Because it turns out it's harder to choose between two people that you know you genuinely do love. And then you keep on thinking that it's actually fucked up to think of it as a choice... but really, that's what it is. A choice of who you want to be with; a choice of who you love more. No matter what you do, it's a choice.
And I really, really hate choices, I think, closing my eyes tightly and then taking a sip of tea without opening them. It's all because of Travis, of course, all because he had to show up just when things were finally settling down again. All because I had to kiss him, because it wasn't exactly my choice to have him go off and pretend to be dead for three and a half years, most of which I spent just missing him so badly that I really didn't think I'd ever have this sort of problem. For most of the time since he's been gone, I'd have welcomed him back with no questions asked except how the fuck could you do that to me?
But now there's a problem with that sort of scenario - a few more questions to ask. In addition to 'how could you do that to me?' there's also, 'why in the hell did you have to wait this long?' and finally, 'you're not terribly bothered, are you, by the fact there's someone else who lives here now, taking your place?'
I set down the tea to iron my face, wanting more than anything right now to just say fuck it, fake my own death, and disappear for a while. It's the only way I can avoid this particular choice.
((Gah, kind of rambly and technically I don't know if Destiny is cool with me skipping ahead... but it wouldn't leave my mind so there you go.))
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 20:12:19 GMT
It's strange...pretty remarkable actually, how a high will irrevocably follow a low. The further down the low seems to be, the quicker the high seems to follow but also the shorter it lasts. Or maybe that's just in my case. And it's only recently, really, that I've had highs and lows at all. Before that it was mostly consistent, generally bored with the occasional blip of something good or bad that never really altered anything at all.
But now it's all highs and lows and up's and down's and nothing's consistent and everything is constantly changing and mutating, and the sort of mood I'm in today dictates that I don't care, that I'm just observing that I'm on the sort of high which cancels out a lot of worry, but also a lot of feeling in general. So maybe that's a low. Fuck, it really doesn't matter.
Because not feeling is nice, especially after the very near-break down the other night and all the confusing mess of sadism on my part and masochism on Arden's and whatever else I'm supposed to be concerned about right now. Not feeling is really rather good, really rather calm and serene and probably as close to at peace as I'm going to get. But still, it's nice and that's the point.
And I have no idea what's wrong with me today or what's put me under this somewhat selective emotional anaesthetic, but I'm just not going to question it in case it goes away too soon, because I'm not ready for another low just yet.
Although apparently I don't have a choice about it, don't get to say when I get my lows and when I get my highs and just when I have to crash and the anaesthetic wears off, because when I let myself in and head idly through to the kitchen due to a lack of better alternatives of where to go, I don't really even need to ask. Something's wrong, judging by Arden's expression...so I don't have to ask, already primed for another low as I am, but I do anyway because it always helps to know exactly what's bloody wrong this time. "Hey...you alright?"
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 20:22:32 GMT
I look up, startled, when Logan speaks to me, because I didn't hear him come in. Or else he was already here and I didn't notice that. Either way, I have a split second of something near panic, or worry, or maybe a mix of the two, as I wonder what I've done to prompt concern.
But then I realize that's pretty ridiculous. If I was him I'd certainly be worried, what with the whole chopping-fingers incident - it's crusting up nicely and starting to heal by now - and then the recent... pensive vacantness and vague affection on my part. Looking back on my behavior over the last week, I'd be priming for a suicide attempt if I was in his shoes, and so it's actually surprising he hasn't asked earlier. Not that he hasn't got issues of his own to think about. So there's really no need to be startled.
"... Fine," I shrug vaguely after a moment, then look away to get back to my circular thoughts and the awful pained feeling that won't go away. I really hate choices.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 20:44:57 GMT
"Ah...are you sure? You've been acting a little...off." And I only noticed just now, preoccupied with myself as I've been all this time, but she's been a little vague and out of it for a while now...hasn't she? So maybe that means something and maybe I should be a little bit more aware. She probably could have slipped all sorts of self-harm evidence past me and I wouldn't have noticed. She could be planning anything and I wouldn't know, considering how unobservant I've been. I really should work on that, as well as everything else I'm supposed to be working on.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 20:51:20 GMT
Oh... well, yes I have. But that's only because I'm being a fickle whore again and this time I really might leave you, so I've been trying to figure that out while simultaneously trying to make it up to you or something, in case I really do decide I love him more than you.
"I'm fine," I shrug again, focusing back on him. "What about you?" Been all right since your discovery you like being a sadist?
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 21:06:47 GMT
"I'm..." Fine, alright, good...was, anyway, until I realised how unobservant I am and how something is evidentally...fucked, but apparently you're not going to tell me what it is. "...Fine." Pause while I consider how ridiculous that was with a hesitation between the words and how much I hate not knowing things. I don't know why she has to skirt around things for so long like this before she comes clean, but I do know it tends to drive me crazy.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 21:11:58 GMT
I raise my eyebrows at that disbelievingly, because really, could he have paused any longer before settling on that? Though maybe I'm just being paranoid. "All right." I shrug again. "Good to know we're both fine." And I love you. I love you so much it hurts. And why in the hell am I pretending like this? I think it was because I don't want to hurt him unless I know it's necessary. I don't want to tell him he's on trial until/unless I rule against him. Especially because he'd be well within his rights to just give up and leave, not putting up with it anymore.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 21:28:42 GMT
"Yeah, lovely." I reply with a faint shrug, leaning back against the counter. I should probably just go, rather than stand here and either try and pry it out of her or wait until she tells me or whatever else, but I guess sticking around here to try and attempt a conversation is some sort of atonement for a total failure to notice anything over the past few days.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 21:31:49 GMT
"Mm," I agree, nodding faintly before shrugging, getting up, and moving over to where he's standing so I can kiss him briefly. "I love you, by the way. I don't think I say it often enough."
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 21:48:49 GMT
"I love you too." I kiss her back briefly, moving my arms around her waist because I'm okay with contact today and want her to be close...especially because I don't know what's happened...or is happening and it's making me uneasy. "You say it often enough. I...you're freaking me out, a little bit, just so you know. What's wrong?" So maybe it's a sign that's something very wrong if that makes me so uneasy, but it feels somewhat final. Like an 'I love you, but...' or something.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 21:53:38 GMT
"Nothing," I say again, moving my arms around his neck and shaking my head. I can't meet his eyes thou, because it's feeling more and more like a lie with each repetition. "Just... at least I hope so. I don't know." There, that's a bit more truthful I suppose.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 22:02:16 GMT
"Well, that's...something..." I shrug slightly, "Not really nothing..." If it's an 'I hope so. I don't know' it's something. But I can wait, I suppose. I really don't want to force it, especially when she's not even looking at me as it is.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 22:10:06 GMT
"True, but I just... I don't want to hurt you again." I shrug, enjoying the proximity despite the conversational topic. "And there's... probably, hopefully, no reason you should be, but I just want to be sure of this before I say anything." This is dancing rather close to the truth... perhaps dangerously so. Maybe I should just learn to be a better liar.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 22:29:46 GMT
I raise an eyebrow after a split second, sort of alarmed at that. "Ah...and now, I think you should explain that in full." I'd rather be hurt than this uneasy. The truth tends to not be as bad as what sort of thing I'll be inclined to imagine, which is why I'm carefully avoiding making any guesses.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 22:38:24 GMT
He's probably right about that, honestly. And hey, if he does decide that's it, that he doesn't want to wait around while I'm being indecisive again... well, at least it'll make my decision for me, right? I kiss him briefly once more before pulling away, just in case that is how he reacts, and then take a deep breath and cross my arms, looking at the floor. "You know the dead ex-boyfriend that I secretly compare you to much of the time, hence the dissatisfaction and kissing Riley and such?" I ask, not waiting for an answer or pausing to consider whether that was a bad way to phrase things or not. "... He... he showed up here, the other day. Kind of... not dead."
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 22:58:00 GMT
I fold my arms over my chest when she pulls away, to have something to do with them, but then end up just looking at the floor anyway. No I don't really know the dead ex-boyfriend and I wasn't aware of the comparison, or not entirely. I hadn't considered a dead man a rival to be honest, more focused on Riley as a competitor anyway. So what am I supposed to say to that? 'Well then, see you around' or 'Good luck to you both'. But I suppose she didn't say I don't have a chance this time, although I most likely don't...just that he showed up here. So I just mutter, "Right," to acknowledge that I heard and took that in. I don't think there's anything to say at all, not until she elaborates a little bit.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 23:08:27 GMT
"... So... that's it then," I say after a moment when he doesn't say anything more. "That's all I have to say, 'cause... I don't know. And if you don't want to wait around while I'm being an idiot whore, I'll understand. You shouldn't have to. And that's why I didn't want to tell you." I shrug slightly. It really should not be a question, but somehow it is anyway.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 27, 2009 23:32:16 GMT
"...Right." I say again. First thought is 'how the hell could you intend to keep that from me?' I'd rather know in advance, rather than suddenly have it thrown at me when she does make up her mind. Or would I? Because the second thought is 'No, I don't want to bloody wait around again'. And I don't but for fuck's sake, if I've hung around for this long and I've bothered putting up with all of this shit...then I don't want to leave either. And at the risk of saying any of that, or perhaps somehow worsening the situation, I'm just going to keep my mouth shut.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 27, 2009 23:41:06 GMT
Oh, that was helpful. I shrug yet again instead of saying this, feeling like an idiot because obviously I want to be with Logan so I should have kept my mouth shut because now he's been hurt for no reason. But I also know I certainly wasn't thinking that when Travis was here. Dammit. "... If it helps, I'm not exactly thrilled with him for letting me think he was dead for so long," I say eventually. I think I'd like Logan to argue his case... or at least just go ahead and tell me that he's leaving. Anything but just "... Right."
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 28, 2009 0:01:27 GMT
"Yeah, that really fucking helps, Arden." That was borderline snappish, and clearly a mistake because now I'm not sure if I can stop being snappish and whatever...high or almost-good mood I was in earlier has dissipated. Fuck, I know I'm barely human and I know I probably deserve everything I get, but I'm getting sick of this. There shouldn't be a choice, shouldn't be a long drawn out decision making process like there always is. It's something she should know, like I know that I love her more than I've ever even given a shit about Ruby, or anyone for that matter, and I know that instantly. But there's always a choice, always a long drawn out decision making process and it's not fair. And so she picked me over Riley, whoever she picks out of me and the not-dead boyfriend is just going to have to put up with another choice a few weeks or months down the line, because who knows who's going to turn up not-dead or whatever then? "I'm sorry, but I'm not waiting around."
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 28, 2009 0:10:03 GMT
And even though I expected that, even though I deserve that as much as or more than this cut on my finger... it still feels like I've been kicked in the chest and all the air and blood and everything has decided to... evaporate... so there isn't anything there and it all has to implode now. But I'm going to try not to break down, because I know he hates me crying and for once, just once, I ought to be unselfish enough to at least do that. So I bite my lip hard, hard enough to draw tears on its own even though it's preventing the emotional ones, and look down and away while I nod. It takes several tries, several swallows, before I can speak. "... That - that's understandable." I nod again, voice shaking slightly but at least I'm not crying. And I hope you can be happy, or at least as bloody close as you ever get. I intend to say that second part out loud as well, but I'm not sure I can manage.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 28, 2009 0:33:24 GMT
That can't be right, surely. That it feels this bad but there still manages to be a slither of relief mixed in with it. And she shouldn't look quite as distressed as she does, even though she's not actually crying, because I'm making this easier for her. If there's no choice then it's easier, up until the next time she decides to be fickle and fucks around with his head. At least it won't be my head and at least it's not my problem anymore. Even though that doesn't feel right either. I don't even know his fucking name. But I guess now I have to be practical, get it together and actually leave...without it feeling too abrupt...so I feel like I should say something, but there's nothing. Just more fucking silence, so I shake my head briefly and keep it that way for a few more seconds. "I do love you...I just..." can't put up with this, yet again.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 28, 2009 0:38:32 GMT
"I love you, too," I manage to get out before I have to bite harder on the inside of my cheek. I almost hope he leaves soon, because I don't think I can keep from breaking down for very much longer. You complete fucking idiot. There never really was a choice, was there? You would have stayed with him. But you just have to make everything so difficult, so complicated. And now you've gone and lost him because you're an idiot.
|
|
|
Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 28, 2009 0:56:04 GMT
"See you, then." I say finally, shaking my head faintly, despite the rather anti-climatic sort of last words. And now I really have to get out of here, really have to leave, before I change my mind or just end up standing here and not saying or doing anything for any longer. So I head past her fairly quickly and out of the kitchen. Ah, freedom then, I guess.
|
|
|
Post by Arden Patricks on Apr 28, 2009 1:02:06 GMT
I don't know if he's out of the house yet before I collapse back into the chair I was sitting in to begin with, put my head in my hands and just sob. He's out of the kitchen anyway, and therefore... he's actually gone. It really is over. The inevitable failure finally showed up, except maybe it wasn't actually inevitable at all and it was all my fucking fault.
|
|