gone to bed

private.

[blemishezarchive-deactivated202]

it was easier with roy, in some ways. as horrible as he was, the guilt that came with leaving him behind didn’t measure up to the guilt she feels now. she wishes she could say adam was horrible to her, that he was deserving of the heartache, but that’s never been the case. he was good to her, he was perfect. it would be easier to hate him rather than miss him.

“it does feel that way sometimes.” despite the empty pit in her stomach, alice finds her appetite waning. every bite she takes feels too forced; she worries if she continues, it might make its way back up her throat. “it wasn’t him. i was the one who got frightened. he was patient with me. he was perfect.”

[formourned]

connie understands, she really does. after matthew left she felt like she would always be in the dark abyss that was dug up for her. she fell into it and became accompanied with the soil, but soon a planter's hand came to peel her out. benjamin was her solitude, her happy ending. she will admit she was scared of it at first, but knew that's what she deserved. "alice, that's why you should go back to him. don't let him scare you away."

she notices alice's discomfort creeping up her throat so she reaches out her hand to pull her plate away by the smallest bit. she doesn't have to finish eating and that's okay. "that's how you know you're doing the right thing. it takes time, i know."

[blemishezarchive-deactivated202]

“it wasn’t anything like before - he wasn’t like roy,” a sour taste sits on her tongue as she speaks. she hates saying his name, just as she’s sure connie hates saying matthew’s. there are some things connie understands better than anyone else.

“i don’t know. he was nice to me. i liked him.” her gaze falls back down to her plate as she starts picking off bites of toast again. “i just don’t think it was good for me to be in his life. i don’t think i was right for him.”

[formourned]

even hearing the name of someone she cares about can make her wince. she doesn't even need to hear matthew's name to feel that sinking feeling because with ease, she knows how it feels. it almost makes her sick thinking of beings with so much hurt within them that they have to hurt others.

"sometimes it feels like a trick, hm?" being treated in a kinder way than before, in a way the body doesn't recognize and it panics. there's a small smile pulling at the corner of connie's mouth as she listens. she doesn't think alice is wrong, but there's no possibility that anything that went wrong is her fault. "i don't think he knew what to do with you, alice. you are good for anyone's life. maybe he got frightened."

[formourned]

in another world, he could have kept her alive.

[blemishezarchive-deactivated202]

there’s a smile, albeit a nervous one. she knows there will be no judgement from connie - who liked her long before she was special or important - yet the feeling remains. alice chews tentatively, before placing the toast back down.

she takes a second. “there was a guy. for a little while, anyways.” it almost feels shameful, even when it isn’t. “i just can’t really stand being in the same city as him right now.”

[formourned]

somehow, she knows that story. not necessarily from any of alice's past stories, but one she's also living right now. connie doesn't take another bite of her breakfast while alice tells her story. it's her way of showing she's listening and understanding every word she has to say.

when she concludes, only then do her eyes go back down to her plate forking some scrambled egg onto her fork. "i know what you mean, alice," it's reassuring at the least. her old lover lives just a few blocks away from her, connie just doesn't have the means to move away. she would in a heartbeat if given the opportunity. "you say right now. are you going to go back to him when you're ready?"

[blemishezarchive-deactivated202]

she is reminded once again that they’re different sort of people. connie stayed in one place, while alice never stopped moving. the brief moments when they’re in the same place at the same time are comforting; a minute of normalcy amidst her usual dysfunction.

“you’d hate it anyways,” a weary sigh. she takes a piece of toast and starts pulling at it, taking small bites. “i guess i should probably tell you why i’m running away.”

[formourned]

"i don't think i'd hate it. it's just different for me." connie always will love the little parts in places that she doesn't even see herself in. the crevices between broken walls and in the concrete under her shoes is the world she lives in. what else does she have to do other than to deal with it and love it in ways she can find.

the woman is no stranger to running away, it's all she's ever done and will ever know. she knows the story all too well. "i'd love to know," she is piqued, comfort in such a familiar place.

[formourned]

blemishez​.

@formourned

she wakes up face down on connie’s couch; her temporary home for an indefinite period of time. it’s morning. eerily quiet. none of the familiar city sounds; screeching tires, police sirens, shouting, car radios. dreadful silence.

“i hate new york,” she says to connie at breakfast, “come back with me.”

    “oh, goodness!”    she exclaims with some bread chewed up and stored into her cheek. a plate of a few more slices of toast is positioned in between them on the table as she takes a seat across from alice. she missed her friend; connie never stopped thinking about her.

    “i’m afraid i’ll kill me. these days i can’t handle a being around more than two people.”

[memetaped]

mermaids taken from the 1986 patty dann book.

stop that and sit down.

would you like me to fix you some food?

you’re so full of baloney.

please talk to me.

have you been having nightmares again? you look tired.

i’ve been as bad as i can be.

you want me to tuck you in?

i don’t give a goddamn where you go.

oh, christ.

it will be all right, baby, don’t worry.

where on earth have you been?

nothing would make me happier.

you’re nobody special.

who needs them.

jesus christ, look at me, will you?

not yet, baby, we’ll go to the store later.

i worry. i really do.

you’re going to get in trouble.

makes me want to cry into my goddamn baseball glove.

well, i hate you, i really do.

you’re always welcome to come and talk if you have anything on your mind.

it’s time you got some normal shoes.

you should grow up to be free. do you understand me? free.

don’t forget these.

more hot chocolate?

there are four kinds of people in the world, just like the seasons.  

religion weighs me down.

you’re going to get arrested.

[auteuriste]

smiles of a summer night, 1955 (dir. ingmar bergman)   ida, 2013 (dir. paweł pawlikowski)

[holyfilaments]

[holyfilaments]

[holyfilaments]

[holyfilaments]

[formourned]

uuuhhh ......

[formourned]

❝ well i’m the romantic type. ❞

    she sways about the room  ,  hair dancing from one shoulder to the other and soon to be grappled by hands and brought over her shoulders.    gleefully she sighs as she spins around to face sam.    upon her lips  ,  a welcoming smile unwilling to break.     ❛      if  it’s  anyone  that’s  good  at  being  a  romantic  ,  it’s  you.      ❜    and he can tell she means it because the way it flows languidly from her mouth can only land softly upon the ears that listen.

       ❛      now  ,  come.      ❜    she reaches a hand out for him to take.    do what he will with it.     ❛      show  me  romance.      ❜    now she fawns  ,  a hint of playfulness in her words.

[formourned]

“it’ll help to bring the fever down.”

     ❛      i’m  fine.      ❜    she reassures with a breathless chortle.    isn’t she supposed to be the one to care for those she’s close to  ?   those alike in her struggles  ?    despite her defiance  ,  her head is far too warm for the average human and the color from her face has drained.    whatever color was left  ,  that is.    she may as well be a ghost now as she is reclined in bed  ,  resisting under blankets.

    a hefty sigh can be heard along the tail of a wheeze.    sometimes she forgets that her lungs are plagued with asthma  ,  but it has subsided enough that she hasn’t needed to touch an inhaler in year.     ❛      how  are  you  feeling  ?    i  don’t  want  you  around  just  for  you  to  get  sick  too.      ❜

[formourned]

“it’s the fog. it plays tricks on you.”

    the woman is no strange to tricks.    the walls like to close in just until she can no longer bare another breath in  ,  then do they release and become walls again.    there is a constant whispering in every corner of her head that tells her words of falsities.    with this incapability to make it all stop  ,  this fogginess isn’t any worse than what she experience.    there’s no telling if she can ignore it.

     ❛      how  can  i  make  it  stop  ,  then  ?      ❜    she looks to danny with an intense stare that dares to break away if she gets distracted only by a little.    the fear of what could happen if she isn’t grounded shows in heavy bags under her eyes.    disheveled hair draped over her glance can only suffice as protection for so long.     ❛      when  will  it  go  away  ?      ❜

[rocknmeme]

masque of sapphire by deana james violence mention.  

“it’s the fog. it plays tricks on you.” 

“can you eat it yourself?” 

“i’ve brought you some nice hot tea.”  

“let me help you back to bed.”  

“you’ll hurt yourself.” 

“it’ll help to bring the fever down.”

“finish your breakfast.”

“forget about all that.”

“cry if you want to. you’ll feel better.”

“lie back now and go to sleep.”  

“and you have to accept help from me. because you really have no alternative.”  

“now, baby, tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“don’t bother about me.”

“yes, sweetheart, you’re very hot, but we’re going to get you cool.”      

“you saved my life.”

“put your arms around my neck.”

“you look so happy.”

“don’t forget your manners.”

“my head aches something fierce.”   

“i can’t remember when we’ve had a cold spell this long.” 

“we have to move you now, sweetheart.”

“get out of here.”

“you’ll open your wound.” 

“what is love?”

“you’ve got a lot of forgiving and forgetting to do, baby.”

“no sarcasm, please.”  

“this way you’ve lost only two days. three at the most.”

“you can’t expect to be strong if you don’t eat.”

“you’re lying. why are you lying?”

“stop tearing yourself to pieces.”

“i am not, and you can’t make me.” 

“but what about the fever and the chills?”

“you were a child.” 

“and you’ve been taking care of me?”

“you weren’t thinking of your reputation when you got into that fight.”        

“how terrible for you. how frightened you must have been.”

“welcome to your new home, baby.”

“oh, how horrible.”

“when this is over, you’re going to eat every one of those words.”

“it was a stupid, stupid thing.”

“you’re somewhat the worse for wear.” 

“just about as hard as anything could possibly be.”  

“how kind of you to remember after all these years.”