“You can fit me / inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen / next to your heartbeat where I should be.”
Buck was relentless. He took care of Eddie, of Chris. He loved them both so effortlessly and so beautifully that Eddie could do nothing but fall into line right beside him and love him back. Buck was safe. Buck was strong. Buck was everything he needed and everything he wanted.
Letting himself love Buck was his second best choice after leaving El Paso with Christopher.
OR
Buck gives Eddie and Christopher their Christmas presents, solidifying his place in Eddie’s life forever.
...from Late Latin passionem (nominativepassio) "suffering, enduring," from past participle stem of Latin pati "to suffer, endure," possibly from PIE root *pe(i)- "to hurt"
Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, which is one of my least favorite holidays. There’s a lot of focus on the kinds of love that don’t interest me, which I’m used to tuning out, but around Valentine’s Day it’s impossible to ignore. In the best case scenario, it’s annoying, and in the worst, it brings up very bad memories. I also don’t like chocolate
Frankly I don’t see any benefit to introducing Alma to it, but I’m concerned that I could be letting my irritation with her influence the decision. I don’t want to hurt her to spite Jacen and the others who hurt me, but I don’t see why she would enjoy it except she does like chocolate. Even if she would enjoy it apparently most people do?, I’m still conflicted, because on one hand, she’s behaved terribly so far this weekend, and on the other, if it could be fun, maybe that’s what she needs to reduce the anxiety that’s leading to the misbehavior.
Loving people is hard. Really hard.
It used to be black and white. Even if I cared for someone, that just meant making sure they didn’t die a slow, painful death—pretty low standards. Now I’m trying to figure out what to do with a misbehaving mutant child who could accidentally kill my girlfriend with a few words, and who thinks if she goes to sleep, she’ll die. Apparently no one gets to sleep in this apartment.
I still have the reflex to be aggressive and violent, and I don’t know whether I should be proud that the worst I’ve done is make threats when Jacen still knocks her out to deal with her, or ashamed that I’m even using him for a point of reference.
I’m so grateful for the people I love, but sometimes it’s also agony. I don’t want anyone I love hurt, and I know that there will be times I make the wrong decisions. I would never forgive myself if Eva was hurt by Alma. Alma wouldn’t forgive herself. Jacen wouldn’t forgive me. What if we’re doing this all wrong?
I’ve heard Jacen tell Alma that Vanessa leaving didn’t mean she didn’t care about them, and for the first time, I can almost believe it. I can see how you could love someone but be torn apart by it until you’d rather hurt that person and live without them just to get a break from the stress. Sometimes you love someone and you can’t fix their problems, you can’t prevent all danger, and you can’t protect them from their own choices.
It’s likely that the lack of sleep from the battle of wills with Alma is contributing to my hyper-emotional state, but I just want to sob, and I don’t know if it’s frustration or anger or sadness or love, or all of it.
Nadia knew Eva was only faking sleep, much like she had done the night before . . . and the night before that . . . and the ones before that, ever since Eva’s nightmares reached crisis level. Usually she’d lay there and alternate between stroking her girlfriend’s hair and rubbing her back, but this time Nadia was getting restless---not with Eva, but with being unable to fix things for her.
She climbed out of bed and returned a few minutes later with two cups of Sleepytime Tea. She set them on the bedside stand, got in bed, and with a quiet “C’mon,” pulled the smaller woman into her lap. “My hearing’s not what it used to be, but I know your heartbeat, Eevee. You don’t have to pretend to sleep---or stop pretending to sleep---and you don’t have to talk if you don’t feel like it. But a lot’s happened lately, and I know you’re not sleeping, and . . . I just want to help, if there’s anything I can do.”
[A note reads: “I hate the thought of not being able to talk to you every minute of every day, so I got you a little something to help with that. Happy Birthday. All my love, always. Eva <3”]
[Text] The coffee machine had a note on it this morning that said "I've bean expecting you" ... You wouldn't know anything about it by any chance would you? :P <3
