Not from the inside of a machine, married to you by link and law. But the sky. Bright and unmarred, shining blue in the day and with pinpricks of light at night?
You don’t worry much about the sky anymore. You worry about the ground. About what you can see and hear, about the fluorescent lights above, the tile below. You spend every moment waiting for that alarm.
For when you are able to leave the box, to escape into your true body. Be freed from the shackles of flesh, blood, and brain. Be made greater.
someone come and yell at me for giving characters some off-page character development which is just slightly alluded to on page, because i am to insecure to write it
Me when I rolled my ankle literally two weeks ago but it still hurts at times so I cut up an old holey pair of tights and wrapped it around my ankle as a makeshift wrap because I'm too scared to ask my parents since I don't want to sound dramatic and I don't really have anything better
Trinity and Dennis are always searching for meaning. Trinity doing it to devote and find purpose for herself because all she has ever felt is lost. Dennis doing it to devote and find purpose in other people because he needs so badly to be useful.
tw: mentioned self harm (in the context of sobriety milestones)
never let it be said that Trinity is a shallow, or thoughtless, person. matter of fact, all she does is think. how can i make today important? what meaning can i find in the redbull i dropped in the parking lot on my way into work?
on this specific day, she woke up, checked her calendar, and realized that she was one day from being a month free of self harm. already off to a good start after that discovery, she walked into work with an uncharacteristic pep in her step.
never let it be said that Dennis is a selfish person. matter of fact, all he does is help other people. how can i prove myself worthy today? do i deserve anything i have if i don’t make myself useful?
today, about halfway through their shift, Dennis gets a text from Amy. he opens it and reads, “Hey, guess who said his very first words! come over tomorrow and I’ll tell you what they were... (btw the sink is acting up again, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look at it?)” he smiles and sends a response reflecting his excitement for the boy, also affirming that he’ll take care of the sink. that fond smile isn’t leaving his face any time soon.
they don’t get a chance to really talk to each other until after their shift. full house all day long, they barely even saw each other. it’s 9 at night now, and Trinity is plating their dinner, having insisted on cooking with a grin, when she starts the conversation,
“hey, i’m gonna pick up a cake tomorrow after work, do you want to hang out on the couch and eat it straight out of the container with me? i was thinking we could watch Saved!, or maybe Bridesmaids.”
“oh, i can’t, sorry. Amy wants me to go to the farm and celebrate because Theo said his first words! can you believe it?”
Trinity seems to deflate a little as she replies, “yes? babies say their first words all the time, this isn’t like… innovative.”
“are you seriously jealous of an infant right now?”
shit, he meant to come off more jokingly, as if challenging for banter. instead, it leaves his mouth in a tone that’s more bitter than intended.
“i’m not jealous, i’m just struggling a little bit to understand why you’re ditching me to hang out with a baby.”
ditching, really? Dennis doesn’t get why she thinks that a movie night with cake would be more important to him than a friend’s baby speaking for the first time.
“i’m not ditching you, Trin. geez, you sound paranoid. you act like every little thing that happens is some kind of personal attack towards you.”
the nerve of this guy, she thinks. he doesn’t know anything about her. she would know, all she’s done is try to keep him from getting too close.
“it’s hard not to walk around distrusting and desperate when i’ve lived the kind of life i have.”
“and what kind of life is that? you’re not giving me much to work with here!”
they look at each other in silence for a moment. he can sense that she’s still trying to hold back. then, her expression turns to defeat, like that smile from 10 minutes ago never even existed.
“i’m sorry that i can’t give enough of myself to get an emotional investment from you. i’m sorry that i can’t let you help me so that you’ll feel better about yourself.” she says with a hint of snark.
“well, we can’t all afford to just go out and buy a cake because we have one good day. you’re trying to feel better about yourself too!”
don’t-
“i’m buying a cake because i haven’t cut myself in a month, asshole.” she finally spits out, “i was just trying to celebrate my sobriety.”
great, now he’s looking at her like he’s going to throw up. ugh, he’s sorry for her. she doesn’t know how to respond to sadness or sympathy. she needs to make him angry, she needs to make him not want to be sorry for her. she continues in his silence,
“go congratulate another man’s baby for reaching the monumental milestone of speaking his first words at a borderline late stage in his development. i doubt that his next word is gonna be your name, Dennis.”
as she starts to storm off to her room, he finally speaks up again, “Trinity, i’m sor-“
