...

I miss him

[ghostofmercutio]

I watch his hands in wonderment. Where does one learn to be so soft. He turns the pages of a book as it they were prone to break. His lips move in time with the words, produce music yet make no sound.

[missingmercutio]

it has been a while since i have stopped to document my thoughts. i dream of mercutio many nights still but i am happier now. i love him so dearly but i also love mercy, and rosaline, and those friends and family who have stuck by me. his memory is now more a blessing than a burden

[ghostofmercutio]

Who is to define yearning under the ignorance that it cannot cross worlds?

It's him, of course.

[missingmercutio]

what was mercutio like in his worser moments?

mercutio was loud, he was brash, he was rough and angry, he was unruly and impossible to calm down, but my duty to love him was voluntary and i wouldn't have traded it for the world

[ghostofmercutio]

Some times I think of telling him the silliest things. To cut his hair again, it remind him to bathe, or joke with him like old times when he is down.

Sometimes I forget that he does not live for me, and that I do not live at all.

[ghostofmercutio]

I miss waking up. I miss thinking of you first.

[ghostofmercutio]

Today I thought of him. Today I hoped he would be alright.

[ghostofmercutio]

Pride

[ghostofmercutio]

I'm blue

[ghostofmercutio]

Today like many other days, I will hope that you feel whole.

[ghostofmercutio]

mercutio-- was there some secret part of you that, as you wrote in this journal, wanted him to find it?

I dont know. Yes, no? I never expected him to find it like this, certainly. I have to much to explain and I fear he understands so little of what I wrote. I worry he will brush it off as if I did not love him so intensely that is hurt to keep in those pages. I often dreamed of passing them to him like love notes, or maybe even leaving one behind on accident unsigned, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. It was a lot of hoping, a lot of wishing and fearing, and often times I didn't know what to do with it. I just wish this wasn't the circumstance it was left to him- a burden and a memory, another gash across the world's largest wound.

[missingmercutio]

the journal has been sitting on my bedside drawers, taunting me with secrets i promised myself i would not know for as long as i lived, as to not dirty mercutios dear memory. today, however, i gave into temptation and read aloud to mercy.

“I’ve been feeling quite peculiar as of late.

There’s no change in my routine, it is often the same- finish whatever painfully boring obligations I’ve woken up to (or abandon them entirely) and spend the rest of my time with Romeo and Benvolio.

But I fear my friendship with Romeo has been somehow soured.

I’ve found days where I’ve hoped it would only be Benvolio and I, that he would be too busy chasing after some maiden more virtuous than he to join us, that I could have Benvolio alone, and closer, and entirely to myself and no other.

While feelings like this have surfaced on occasion before, they were merely every now and again, never enough to be a cause for concern.

I’ve yet to tell Benvolio of this, of these feelings. I don’t very well understand them, so I’ve no way to reconcile them. Perhaps Benvolio and I have merely become closer by fate, and I’ve mistakenly pushed Romeo away for fear of threat to our friendship.

Benvolio is, after all, my closest companion, and it’s no doubt we could easily become closer. I’d tell him anything.

Almost.”

[missingmercutio]

Read more?

“The Capulet masquerade was not as enjoyable as I had envisioned.

Sure, there was plenty to drink and many delectable women to drink in with my eyes- not that they could ever satisfy the thirst I suffer from. There was fine music and food and dancing and much laughter- but little Benvolio.

I lost him during the party: I spent most of it alone save for a few glimpses of him, a few quick words and a soft brush of hands.

I caught him at last near the end of the party and we danced briefly– I took it upon myself to lift him and spin, our masks falling away but no one taking notice. Both of us half drunk, half giddy after getting away with our secret infiltration, we couldn’t help but clamor for each other’s hands as we walked towards our home. They fit so well together.

We talked and laughed and stumbled over ourselves, took a right-wrong turn down some dark alley as an excuse to hold each other closer.

His lips were so close to mine, and for a moment I considered chasing the thrill of it all into his waiting mouth. The invitation had arrived, and lay open and bare the way his teeth did in his wide smile.

But I was cowardly and cruel to myself, and kind to him in my refusal.” …

i don’t think i can read any more. i need a moment.

[ghostofmercutio]

When didn't I think of you?

[ghostofmercutio]

Is fellow ghost Tybalt a thing? Why not bother him?

Frankly, I don't know. Or care. And I'm honestly a little insulted you'd suggest it.

[ghostofmercutio]

Hello!

[missingmercutio]

i rose with the sun today, ready to tidy up and to maybe visit mercutio’s room