it's 4:30 am, on September 15, 2001 - absolute heartbreak.
~
[Pre-note: The extended metaphors in this go back a ways. Also, I am far too invested in prison-love; being a prisoner of love. This is probably non-sensical, but I have my own language, and I feel the face of tragedy.]
I found irony tonight.
I found Irony, even.
See, I'm fucking bawling my eyes out, as much as I can, which mean that my whole body is tense and I'm taking very little breath into my lungs. I'm shaking. I am a tightly wound spring.
No tears run down my cheek. Salt water is in my eyes; I see oceans.
The question is, why?
Oh, you'll like this one. It's not the fucking world trade center. That barely made a flesh wound. Oh no.
It was Toby and Chris. Of course.
See, you never really get enough time with people you fall for, so hard and fast and, *hard*, that you can't breathe for it. That's not being in love; it's falling, well and truely, and hitting bottom so many times you think you're made of rubber for the bouncing.
Yeah, I bounced tonight.
To put a little factual evidence into this extended metaphor: I saw the OZ episode where Chris does his selfless thing. It's called 'cuts like a knife'.
Three kisses. One while Chris was in an orange uniform; one while Chris was drunk, and lying. One that was tender. In three kisses, we got a whole range from anger to love to bittersweet so painful it *hurts*. A whole relationship, in three kisses between straight actors and fucked up characters.
Toby and Chris always could shatter my world. I feel like nothing will be the same. It wasn't the destruction of fine architecture; it was the fading -- not stab-wound, or fighting, or flare-out, but just, wasteful *end* -- of something so intense that brief periods was almost too much to handle.
True love is self-destructive.
I think, perhaps, I'll always believe that. Because true joy is self-destructive too; we aren't meant to feel those extremes. Extremes tear at the insides, like a stab wound to the heart.
Toby is selfish; Chris is the selfless one, in the end. Full circle, and all that bullshit. --it *is* bullshit. They could have been logical, but since when does a choir use logic? It's all about bullshit. They did it to themselves.
Fuck.
I miss a lot of people for the stab-wounds they left behind. If I am to wear orange, from now on, it'll be to remind myself that deep down, we never know what we want or how to get it; never know what to say, and we do it to ourselves.
'why are you doing this?'
'I think it's pretty obvious.'
'well, yeah.'
I can't fucking deal with this. I don't think I'm a romantic on the inside. I think I'm a kicked dog, a prison inmate. You could see Chris *shaking*, you could. In that pod, while Toby was saying, 'why don't I just let him kill me', Chris was *shaking*, he was *shaking*.
I was shaking with him. I was barely breathing. These things, they kick me too much. I mean, yeah, Buffy hurts, and Queer as Folk hurts, but this--
I mean, I can think back to the other moments they've spent together, and I *still* feel quakes, little muscular tremors. It feels like the day I fell apart on the street, no tears, head to the pavement, song going through my head. It's that *falling*.
Another horrible irony just dawned on me. I can't believe we fucking washed *laundry* together in a tub. I can't believe. If.
God. Chris must be so, shaky inside, hoping Toby won't notice.
Three kisses. The liar, the lover, the leaver. Toby was the beloved, the believer, and then the left behind.
I have settled down some. I have calmed my nerves; I'm not having a panic attack any more. Just a baby one.
--I can't believe we washed laundry together. I can't believe it still means something to me. I am bouncing, strings tangled. To top it all off, I have justin Timberlake singing in my head, 'but the truth remains, you're gone', which isn't helping matters any, y'know. I don't think I can watch OZ any more.
I mean, what's the point?
~
-
what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015
-