bleakberries.
she used to think jack was such an unattainable idea. he was for awhile, at best he was a thin piece of gauze to hold onto, webbing full of holes. there was safety in that; teddy always liked him best when he wasn’t hers.
something about the way his hand nearly reaches across the table, only to pull back makes her throat close tight. he pulls back, like he’s still afraid to commit to even a small gesture as that. or just afraid of her. but an unfamiliar instinct pulses beneath her passive veil—to grab a hold of that frail hand, dig her claws in, tear into it. it’s as if all the rage has been tucked away so well, she didn’t realize it was ever there. teddy bites the inside of cheek, focusing on the skin between her teeth instead. she shouldn’t think deeply of it at all really, when she hadn’t bothered before. jack never made so much of an effort to be worth missing in the first place. hating him would require some amount of an imprint. her own fingers have grown tense and have curled inwards to her palm, blunt nails in the flesh. she still imagines grabbing hold, pulling him under the dirty bathwater too if he wants to be soft. she won’t, but she might.
they are doomed to run around in this circle over and over. always needing each other, but never at the same times. they’ve already had this conversation before, more than once, but she never thought he was sincere until that last time.
jack wears the same look he had then—wide eyed and breathy desperation. it makes him look younger than he is. that boyish menace fades into boyish weakness and he’s that skinny boy from the house across the street again. she wonders sometimes, if he remembers it all the same way she does, or if she changed parts of it in her head. as if that even matters anymore. it seems so silly now to see how things have reversed. she’d laugh if it didn’t sting.
she made the subconscious decision to only want the things she could not have, and never seek the ones she could. teddy sits stiff and unmoved, yet finds her eyes wandering away from jack as if he might just see too much. “i don’t even know what i want—” it comes out sounding choked, almost like laughter, if not for that unfamiliar trace of nerves. teddy knows how it must appear, with a voice that hardly sounds like her own anymore, but for once it feels like a honest sentence. she’s used up all her other lies.
“but i feel like … i never understand what you want either. you were gone and you came back just to say that.” she is so careful with her choice of words, stepping around each beat with hesitance. “why’d you take so long then?”
likewise, jack has now come to a stray road. going straight down, but never knowing what will become of the end. does that mean she reciprocates what he’s brought to the table? or is it her odd way of turning it around and pushing it back into his face? for a while, jack continues to look at her. there’s never a clear hint at what she wants, what she might say, or what she might do. jack takes a wild guess and assumes she wants to give it a try.
is that all that should come of two people loving each other? a want seems selfish. jack never gave it a thought, but as he sits there at the table now, he ponders the question. though, impulsivity is too tempting and the thought is rushed away and he’s brought back to the conversation. an anchor he’s become to this chair.
“ why don’t we give it a try? figure it out. “ in his head he repeats the sentence. together. it doesn’t sound appealing to him. years upon years only doing so much as a one night stand or a casual hookup always meant more to him than a lifelong partner to go down life’s journey together. it’s foreign to him and he’s reluctant to touch it, even as he’s spewing this all out onto teddy.
finally, he breaks his gaze on her. his head suddenly falls to his lap and he considers why he left. there is no forward answer to a question like that. “ it’s different. “ different than anyone else who suddenly disappears. he may never have an answer for her. “ but i realized this isn’t the shit i want. “ he’s speaking to his hands that lay lifeless in his lap. again, he doesn’t know what he wants besides what the night has to give him.
hand goes to his pocket. as he reaches inside, he grabs onto the box of cigarettes there as his leg start to bounce. “ but i want you. “







