#being unstable

[herbert-best]

PSA: in case you didn’t see my post earlier, I can’t afford my meds this month and will probably be going off of them! just a forewarning that my blog might get a little weird. I’ll make it, but it might get kind of hairy.

[alone-inlove]

I cant sleep. As usual..

My friend helped me figure something out about myself today. So, maybe I am so clingy and desperate for a reason. I mean, the only relationships I have been in have taught me that unless I am giving them 100% of myself then I am not doing anything and they will leave me. So it scares me so much to lose anyone else that I care, or want, to care about that I hold on to them so tightly and it just pushes them away. This will always confuse me now because I have been molded to think otherwise. So no matter how hard I try to "play hard to get" or "not be so needy" I will always have in the back of mind, "What if I play hard to get and they just get annoyed with me and leave?" or "What if I ignore them and they just ignore me too?" What the fuck, its like my emotions will forever be unstable and I will never be able to find a healthy relationship.

Well, this psychic that I went and saw told me that someone important is going to enter my life in July, so I guess I will just have to wait and see and quit forcing things that were never meant to be in the first place. Hopefully everything falls together in July. 

[valdrenchedinred]

... Being Unstable... 14 years old - Romania -

“Your Bunica loved music,” Bunicul told me while we both sat on the edge of my bed. I had been practicing the violin he had given me a month ago and he had heard and wandered in. I learned quickly, so I had no trouble playing by now, and I was fine with him listening.

I didn’t exactly have an interest in music, or instruments. It was just a way to pass the time and sort of challenge myself. I would only play songs I found in books of sheet music. I didn’t have the creativity to attempt anything on my own.

I tried to cover up missing a note when I winced at hearing that word. It seemed I was the only one around whose vocabulary didn’t consist of that word.

“Her favorite sound was that of the violin,” he said, closing his eyes to focus on the music.

I kept quiet and continued to play, honestly getting bored already. It kept him calm though, and that was part of the point of it.

When the song I was playing ended he opened his eyes in surprise, just noticing where he was. “Oh… I’m sorry, Valentina, dear. Was I interrupting?”

“Not at all, Bunicul,” I said gently as I placed the instrument back in its case and put away the music. “The song just ended, and I figured I would go grab a snack,” I told him.

He nodded and rose. “Well, come with me then. I know off a place where people always tend to-“

“Bunicul,” I said, turning to look at him. “You’re forgetting something,” I reminded him.

He looked at me in confusion, then his eyes widened slightly in understanding and he nodded. “Oh, yes, I forgot. Just like your namesake. Alright, then. How about we go out to that cafe your cousin always enjoys. Cezar said it has quite the atmosphere to it.” His smile was one of gentleness, one he only ever gave to me.

“Of course. Sounds lovely,” I agreed and stood, grabbing a jacket before walking out with him.

We sat in the cafe at a small table by the door. I chose the spot as soon as we walked in, having known from previous stops that from here the counter blocked view of the fireplace on the other side.

Bunicul sat down and I ordered for myself. When I looked back at him he was already staring out the window, lost in his thoughts again. I watched him for a while before my food came and I ate. He never said anything, which wasn’t strange at all for him.

When I was finished and paid for the food I stood up and touched Bunicul’s shoulder gently. His head snapped in my direction, but I had stopped jumping at his reactions a long while ago.

“It is time to leave,” I said. 

“Well, aren’t you going to eat?” he asked, glancing around in surprise. He began to raise his hand to gesture for the waiter but I stopped him.

“I already did. We can go now.”

He stared at the table for a moment before nodding and standing up. “Yea… Alright, let’s go.”

I made sure to step in his way to obstruct view of the fireplace again and led him out. By the time we got back to the house, he had gotten into another story about Bunica. I had already heard of all of them, but he never remembered, nor did I care. I half listened anyway. I knew not to dwell on the past.

We walked inside and the only one home at the moment was Cezar. I went to my room as they began to talk. For a reason I knew very well, Bunicul was much more natural with the others. Around my mother and I he was different. It was because we both resembled his late wife so much, both all except for hair, and then my mother had his cheekbones. Then there was the fact that I had her name, and I swore sometimes for a moment he believed I was really her when he spoke to me. There would be something in his eyes, just a glimpse of a sparkle of happiness, and then it would be gone and his face would drop in realization.

A couple of hours later I walked downstairs when I heard yelling. Felix was struggling with the windows, trying to get them all shut, and Andrei and Cezar held Bunicul down on the couch. Luca was standing in front of Margareta whose cheek was red and she looked like she was crying. 

“What happened?” I called over the noise to Luca. 

“He lost it,” Luca shouted back, keeping his eyes on Bunicul as he held his protective stance in front of his sister. “Smelled smoke and next thing you know he was running for the door. Mar had just gotten home and he pushed her out of the way. Pretty hard, too. She landed face first on the ground.”

Bunicul was shouting and struggling to get out of his grandsons’ grips, yelling about how he needed to “save her.” I ran to his side and brushed away hair from his face that fell damp against his forehead covered in sweat. 

“Hey! Bunicul! Bunicul!” I yelled to get his attention. He continued to struggle. “Decebal!” I yelled at him.

He stopped and I was sure everyone else expected him to be back to normal, to look around wondering what happened, but I knew better. He stared at me, his eyes cloudy and unfocused.

“Valentina… Dear…” He spoke softly and reached out to touch my hair.

“What in the Lord’s name have you done to your hair?” he asked, his expression softening as his lips pulled into a smile and he chuckled softly.

“I can’t say it looks bad on you, but I never pegged you for a redhead.”

The others moved away from him and I nodded slowly, attempting a smile I had seen my grandmother with in a photo a while ago. He sat up and it was as if no one else was in the room.

“Well, I suppose you want to go out, don’t you. You simply can’t get enough of the theater.”

He continued to talk as he went to stand up but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. “Not at all,” I told him. “I just thought you should head up to bed. You looked awfully tired and I have some reading to do.”

“Yes, I see you are right. Well, I shall be upstairs. Don’t be up too late, and stay inside. I think I caught a glimpse of a few suspicious wizards outside the other day and I wouldn’t want something happening to you.”

He smiled and kissed the top of my head before walking up the stairs. Luca, who had been standing near the doorway, moved to keep Margareta behind him. 

This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Last time, though, no one else had been home, so I was the only one who knew we had just partially re-enacted the night my grandmother died.

Felix had managed to get all of the windows shut in the house during the panic, and I sat down on the couch, glancing around at the expressions of my cousins. After a moment or two they began to disperse to go to their rooms as well. I sat there until Luca patted my shoulder for comfort, comfort which I did not require though he believed I did, and he left as well. I slept on the sofa that day, too lazy to drag myself up to bed.

The next night I went upstairs to change and decided to check in on Bunicul. I saw that his window was open and his bed, messy though hardly slept in, was empty. I instantly knew what had happened. When he came upstairs he must have opened his window to let in some air and smelled the smoke once again. It was most likely some people camping in the woods or a bonfire of some sort. Either way, he thought she was in trouble.

Bunica had died by way of fire, set by a vampire hunter. He had gotten to her a little too late, and all she that was left was a pile of ashes.

I did not mourn. I did not shed a tear. My only reaction to the sight was a small sigh I let out before going to tell my cousins. They went out to search for him, but they didn’t find him. The chances of him having killed himself in the process was highly likely. Weeks passed and he did not show. The rest of the summer I barely paid any attention to.

[valentinaweasley]

...Being Unstable... - 14 Years Old - Romania

"Your Bunica loved music," Bunicul told me while we both sat on the edge of my bed. I had been practicing the violin he had given me a month ago and he heard and wandered in. I learned quickly, so I had no trouble playing by now, and I was fine with him listening.

I didn't exactly have a thing for music, or instruments. It was just a way to pass the time and sort of challenge myself. I would only play songs I found in books of sheet music. I didn't have the creativity to attempt anything on my own.

I tried to cover up missing a note when I winced at hearing that word. It seemed I was the only one around whose vocabulary didn't consist of that word.

"Her favorite sound was that of the violin," he said, closing his eyes to focus on the music.

I kept quiet and continued to play, honestly getting bored already. It kept him calm though, and that was part of the point of it.

When the song I was playing ended he opened his eyes in surprise, just noticing where he was. "Oh... I'm sorry, Valentina, dear. Was I interrupting?"

"Not at all, Bunicul," I said gently as I placed the instrument back in its case and put away the music. "The song just ended, and I figured I would go grab a snack," I told him.

He nodded and rose. "Well, come with me then. I know off a place where people always tend to-"

"Bunicul," I said, turning to look at him. "You're forgetting something," I reminded him.

He looked at me in confusion, then his eyes widened slightly in understanding and he nodded. "Oh, yes, I forgot. Just like your namesake. Alright, then. How about we go out to that cafe your cousin always enjoys. Cezar said it has quite the atmosphere to it." His smile was one of gentleness, one he only ever gave to me.

"Of course. Sounds lovely," I agreed and stood, grabbing a jacket before walking out with him.

We sat in the cafe at a small table by the door. I chose the spot as soon as we walked in, having known from previous stops that from here the counter blocked view of the fireplace on the other side.

Bunicul sat down and I ordered for myself. When I looked back at him he was already staring out the window, lost in his thoughts again. I watched him for a while before my food came and I ate. He never said anything, which wasn't strange at all for him.

When I was finished and paid for the food I stood up and touched Bunicul's shoulder gently. His head snapped in my direction, but I had stopped jumping at his reactions a long while ago.

"It is time to leave," I said. 

"Well, aren't you going to eat?" he asked, glancing around in surprise. He began to raise his hand to gesture for the waiter but I stopped him.

"I already did. We can go now."

He stared at the table for a moment before nodding and standing up. "Yea... Alright, let's go."

I made sure to step in his way to obstruct view of the fireplace again and led him out. By the time we got home he had gotten into another story about Bunica. I had already heard of all of them, but he never remembered, nor did I care. I half listened anyway. I knew not to dwell on the past.

We walked inside and the only one home at the moment was Cezar. I went to my room as they began to talk. For a reason I knew very well, Bunicul was much more natural with the others. Around my mother and I he was different. It was because we both resembled his late wife so much, both all except for hair, and then my mother had his cheekbones. Then there was the fact that I had her name, and I swore sometimes for a moment he believed I was really her when he spoke to me. There would be something in his eyes, just a glimpse of a sparkle of happiness, and then it would be gone and his face would drop in realization.

A couple of hours later I walked downstairs when I heard yelling. Felix was struggling with the windows, trying to get them all shut, and Andrei and Cezar held Bunicul down on the couch. Luca was standing in front of Margareta whose cheek was red and she looked like she was crying. 

"What happened?" I called over the noise to Luca. 

"He lost it," Luca shouted back, keeping his eyes on Bunicul as he held his protective stance in front of his sister. "Smelled smoke and next thing you know he was running for the door. Mar had just gotten home and he pushed her out of the way. Pretty hard, too. She landed face first on the ground."

Bunicul was shouting and struggling to get out of his grandsons' grips, yelling about how he needed to "save her." I ran to his side and brushed away hair from his face that fell damp against his forehead covered in sweat. 

"Hey! Bunicul! Bunicul!" I yelled to get his attention. He continued to struggle. "Decebal!" I yelled at him.

He stopped and I was sure everyone else expected him to be back to normal, to look around wondering what happened, but I knew better. He stared at me, his eyes cloudy and unfocused.

"Valentina... Dear..." He spoke softly and reached out to touch my hair.

"What in the Lord's name have you done to your hair?" he asked, his expression softening as his lips pulled into a smile and he chuckled softly.

"I can't say it looks bad on you, but I never pegged you for a redhead."

The others moved away from him and I nodded slowly, attempting a smile I had seen my grandmother with in a photo a while ago. He sat up and it was as if no one else was in the room.

"Well, I suppose you want to go out, don't you. You simply can't get enough of the theater."

He continued to talk as he went to stand up but I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. "Not at all," I told him. "I just thought you should head up to bed. You looked awfully tired and I have some reading to do."

"Yes, I see you are right. Well, I shall be upstairs. Don't be up too late, and stay inside. I think I caught a glimpse of a few suspicious wizards outside the other day and I wouldn't want something happening to you."

He smiled and kissed the top of my head before walking up the stairs. Luca, who had been standing near the doorway, moved to keep Margareta behind him. 

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Last time, though, no one else had been home, so I was the only one who knew we had just partially re-enacted the night my grandmother died.

Felix had managed to get all of the windows shut in the house during the panic, and I sat down on the couch, glancing around at the expressions of my cousins. After a moment or two they began to disperse to go to their rooms as well. I sat there until Luca patted my shoulder for comfort, comfort which I did not require though he believed I did, and he left as well. I slept on the sofa that day, too lazy to drag myself up to bed.

The next night I went upstairs to change and decided to check in on Bunicul. I saw that his window was open and his bed, messy though hardly slept in, was empty. I instantly knew what had happened. When he came upstairs he must have opened his window to let in some air and smelled the smoke once again. It was most likely some people camping in the woods or a bonfire of some sort. Either way, he thought she was in trouble.

Bunica had died by way of fire, set by a vampire hunter. He had gotten to her a little too late, and all she was was a pile of ashes.

I did not mourn. I did not shed a tear. My only reaction to the sight was a small sigh I let out before going to tell my cousins. They went out to search for him, but they didn't find him. The chances of him having killed himself in the process was highly likely. Weeks passed and he did not show. The rest of the summer I barely paid any attention to.