[You ain't coming apart. He says it so easy, like truth. It doesn't feel that way, but she lets him move her, pulling her inside and closing the door. She lets him wrap around her in the first place, and there's something like relief in that, even if it's plagued by guilt.
Should she even be here? Should she be accepting this comfort? Wouldn't a better person have worked this dilemma out by now? Her worries have become recursive now, moving in now on her hesitance and her inability to solve this problem, and thus posing new ones. That feels like a very good definition of "coming apart".]
I don't want to lose you. [She says it this time for a completely different reason than before. Something has to give in the middle of all this turmoil, and part of her is terrified that it's going to be him. For once, she wishes there was someone to tell her what to do--only for her to regret that thought a moment later when she realizes what they would probably tell her.
She feels the urge to defend him against this unspoken, imagined entity. Kurloz is good. He's been a steady shoulder for her to lean on. He's protected her. He's here right now, comforting her, even as she questions that goodness. What more does he have to do? Hasn't he proven himself by now?
Has he? Is good will something you can quantify and hoard as currency to pay off past debts? Does that change who he is as a person? That doubt curls around her thoughts like a snake, dropping poison into her mind. If past crimes are so easy to erase, then what does right or wrong matter? Why bother with being good in the first place?
She doesn't have a good answer to that. She doesn't have a good answer to anything.]
I just want to go back. To not thinking about this.
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Date: 2017-03-23 03:37 am (UTC)Should she even be here? Should she be accepting this comfort? Wouldn't a better person have worked this dilemma out by now? Her worries have become recursive now, moving in now on her hesitance and her inability to solve this problem, and thus posing new ones. That feels like a very good definition of "coming apart".]
I don't want to lose you. [She says it this time for a completely different reason than before. Something has to give in the middle of all this turmoil, and part of her is terrified that it's going to be him. For once, she wishes there was someone to tell her what to do--only for her to regret that thought a moment later when she realizes what they would probably tell her.
She feels the urge to defend him against this unspoken, imagined entity. Kurloz is good. He's been a steady shoulder for her to lean on. He's protected her. He's here right now, comforting her, even as she questions that goodness. What more does he have to do? Hasn't he proven himself by now?
Has he? Is good will something you can quantify and hoard as currency to pay off past debts? Does that change who he is as a person? That doubt curls around her thoughts like a snake, dropping poison into her mind. If past crimes are so easy to erase, then what does right or wrong matter? Why bother with being good in the first place?
She doesn't have a good answer to that. She doesn't have a good answer to anything.]
I just want to go back. To not thinking about this.