(no subject)
Note: A lot of people have asked me to continue this story, so I'm finally going to try. I didn't mean to just...stop, after chapter two. I just kind of lost interest, but I'd really like to finish it. I can't start something and not finish. It may take me some time, but. It'll get done. Eventually.
Title: “Morose”
By: me; Ivy / _precious_fear
Coupling: Jesse Lacey (of Brand New) and Conor Oberst (of Bright Eyes) - although, they're not really coupled together in the story. ...yet.
Rating: PG-ish for now.
Description: Jesse and Conor, past lovers, write to one another long after their split. [...I don't do descriptions.]
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Dedication: To _rad_x_core_ - just because. I use the word "radcore" in real life all the time, and well, she rocks.
[chapter 1] A Wretch Like Me
[chapter 2] Selfishly Sick
I blinked furiously down at the letter I held in my hands. I hadn't even noticed the tears that lined my eyes, but my vision quickly became blurred. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest, and my stomach was tense. I wasn't too sure if this was real or not. Sniffling, I lifted a hand to my eyes to swipe at the tears, trying to rid them from my face. Once I wiped most of them away, I pulled the envelope out from behind the couple of pages of a letter, and read over the sender's name a couple times.
Jesse Lacey.
I shook my head and carefully folded the letter back up, turning around in my chair at my desk, opening one of the drawers of the desk and sitting the letter inside. I shut it afterwards and leaned back in my chair, sitting quietly and motionless for a few long minutes.
After writing to him for such a long...long time, he'd finally responded. And it blew my mind. Why would he just randomly decide to answer me, after all this time? I didn't understand, but I was all right with that. It wasn't a thought that'd keep me up at night or anything.
I rubbed my eyes slowly again, sniffling yet again and sitting up in my chair. I grabbed a pen from my desk and opened the lower drawer, pulling out a notepad and sitting it down atop the desk's top in front of me. I pulled my chair in closer and began to nibble on my lower lip.
I couldn't do this sober.
I stood up from my chair and turned, heading out of my bedroom and down the small hallway, making my way into my kitchen. Once there, I opened my refrigerator and leaned over just a little bit, eyeing over it's contents inside. My eyes fell upon a small, unopened bottle of Goldshlogger. I sort of scrunched my nose at the sight but decided against going to the store for some smoother alcohol. I reached for the bottle and stood back up, shutting the fridge back. I twisted the cap off of the small bottle as I headed back toward my bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door and decided that silence would be the best for this particular moment. No music. Just silence.
I sat back down in my chair and took a long swig of the harsh liquid, my face sort of scrunching up as I swallowed, shaking my head for a second before repeating, sitting the bottle down beside me on the desk. I took a slow breath and licked my lips, picking up my pen again and looking down at the notepad splayed in front of me.
Frowning, I picked up the bottle again and drank down a good portion of it forcefully, a shudder coursing through my body once I'd stopped. I sat it down with a 'thud' and blinked a few times, staring at the blank paper I was about to completely ruin with my thoughts.
Jesse,
I can't tell you how surprised I am that you've responded to my letters. I almost threw it away when I pulled it out of my mailbox, thinking that it was some sick kind of joke. But, I gave that idea some thought and realized that it'd be impossible. I noticed your hand writing right away, anyway. Now, here I am. I read your letter only minutes ago, and now, I am sitting at my desk, with a small bottle of Goldshlogger, trying to down it in under ten minutes. I didn't think I'd be able to write this letter sober. Perhaps the next one, I will. But not this one. I think it's because I am still in a state of shock.
Don't take this the wrong way, but when I read that you were suffering such as I, it brought a smile to my face. Not a big one. A very small, nearly faint one. I was happy to know that you knew how I was and am feeling. I'd do anything to be able to be there for you right now. But, I'm certain that would not go over too well. Who wants the person causing their pain to be there to comfort them? I sure as hell don't.
I switched to a new brand of cigarettes. The menthol's were getting to my throat horribly. I did not know that smoking Newport's for years on end, would only result in me coughing up blood. Had I known that, I'd have changed them earlier. I now smoke Marlboro Lights. They are much smoother, anyway, and the taste isn't that bad. I've gotten used to them.
You mentioned you didn't have a pet just yet. I see you having a fish as a pet, for some reason, and I'm not sure why. A goldfish, maybe. Yeah. A goldfish. A big one. I can picture you staring at it for hours, too. I think it'd amuse you. I heard that goldfish only have a memory spand of five seconds. I'm not sure if it's true, though, so don't quote me.
I think I drank the Goldshlogger too fast, because my head is already begin to grow warm. But, that was the whole point, so I am not complaining.
I have not done a lot of anything since my last letter. I was asked to babysit my nephew Collin, though, while my brother and his girlfriend had a night-out to themselves a few days ago. He is so beautiful, Jesse. He definitely has that Oberst-esque look to him. There's no denying that he isn't part of the family. He has my brothers eyes and my face shape. How odd is that? He is such a good baby, too. I fed him. I bathed him. I held him so carefully in my arms and even sung to him. It makes me want to have a child of my own someday. I don't see how that could happen, but it's a nice thought, at least. I don't think I'd be a good father, but that's a whole other story.
Did you know the word "bacchanalia" means a Russian, drunken orgy? I know that was random, but it's the buzz sneaking up on me talking. I know I'll soon be staggering in the slightest, but it will still be a stagger, nonetheless.
I still find it hard to believe that you wrote back to me. But I am also very happy about it, too, so don't get me wrong. I am feeling very pensive at the moment, but I'm not sure of how I can get out all of my thoughts to the point of making them sensable. I wish you were here right now. I wish we were sitting in my living room, drinking a cup of coffee, and having an aimless conversation. I think I'd give anything right now for that to become a reality.
Do you remember the time you and I drove two hours to find a park with a grill? That was so funny, and I still laugh when I think about it. You were getting so mad, and almost decided to turn around and go buy a grill. But I told you we'd find one, and we did. And, when we unloaded all of the food we'd brought to cook, the raccoons surounded us, along with the ducks, and you nearly cried. I know it's not something to laugh about, but it is comical when you give it some thought. We cooked so much food, and didn't even eat half of it. So we ended up throwing the food out to the animals. That was a weird park, anyway. Who would build a park next to woods?
We stayed at that park for hours, even after all the other occupants had left. We sat together and shared secrets out of sheer boredom. I will never forget the way you kissed me that night. Absolute shameless love.
I hope this doesn't anger you; bringing up memories, I mean. Memories are innevitable, but also nice sometimes. Depends on the memory, however. These, to me, are lovely things to remember. I apologize, though, if it bothers you.
Do you think we'll ever meet again? Accompany one another again? I just...want to see your face again. I've almost forgotten the sound of your voice, even. It's all beginning to blur together in my mind, and that is saddening to me. I don't want to forget one of the biggest things that came into my life.
My life...what a complete fucking joke. I'm an alcoholic. I'm a drug addict. I sleep endlessly. I write too much and don't talk enough. I lock myself inside my apartment for days at a time, and forget what sunshine feels like upon my face. I wince every time I walk outside in the day time.
I am looking forward to you responding to me, again. I want to know of what goes through your mind. My next letter will be more interesting, I promise.
So, I will end this here and write again another time.
...I love you, Jesse.
I hope you never forget that.
With love,
C. Oberst.
I blinked a few times as I scanned my eyes over the few sheets of paper I'd filled up and I sighed slowly. I'd finished off the whole bottle of Goldshlogger. Even though it wasn't a big bottle, it was still a lot to consume in one-setting. I reached for an envelope and scribbled down my address and his, all by memory, and picked up the roll of stamps I had beside the stack of envelopes. I placed one on the envelope and tore out the few pages of my letter from my notepad, folding them and placing them inside the envelope. I slid my tongue along the glue-line and sealed it shut, looking it over a couple times.
I stood up from my seat and stood still for a few long moments, my head spinning just a bit. I began to walk slowly toward my bedroom door and I pulled it open, heading out to my living room and to the front door. Walking out, I shut it behind me and made my way outside of my apartment building. I'd walked this way too many times to count.
Once outside, I saw the mail-man at the local blue mail-box on this street. I groaned and picked up my pace, jogging over to where he was emptying out the mailbox. Without a word, I approached him and handed my letter out to him. He offered me a smile and took it, placing it in one of his bags. I emitted another sigh and turned around, very slowly beginning to walk back toward my apartment building.
Maybe I should get a pet, too.
[ don't know if i should continue, due to this shitty chapter, but i've just had a few beers? so that could be the reason for this shittyness. just. tell me if you want more. or something. ]
Title: “Morose”
By: me; Ivy / _precious_fear
Coupling: Jesse Lacey (of Brand New) and Conor Oberst (of Bright Eyes) - although, they're not really coupled together in the story. ...yet.
Rating: PG-ish for now.
Description: Jesse and Conor, past lovers, write to one another long after their split. [...I don't do descriptions.]
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Dedication: To _rad_x_core_ - just because. I use the word "radcore" in real life all the time, and well, she rocks.
[chapter 1] A Wretch Like Me
[chapter 2] Selfishly Sick
I blinked furiously down at the letter I held in my hands. I hadn't even noticed the tears that lined my eyes, but my vision quickly became blurred. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest, and my stomach was tense. I wasn't too sure if this was real or not. Sniffling, I lifted a hand to my eyes to swipe at the tears, trying to rid them from my face. Once I wiped most of them away, I pulled the envelope out from behind the couple of pages of a letter, and read over the sender's name a couple times.
Jesse Lacey.
I shook my head and carefully folded the letter back up, turning around in my chair at my desk, opening one of the drawers of the desk and sitting the letter inside. I shut it afterwards and leaned back in my chair, sitting quietly and motionless for a few long minutes.
After writing to him for such a long...long time, he'd finally responded. And it blew my mind. Why would he just randomly decide to answer me, after all this time? I didn't understand, but I was all right with that. It wasn't a thought that'd keep me up at night or anything.
I rubbed my eyes slowly again, sniffling yet again and sitting up in my chair. I grabbed a pen from my desk and opened the lower drawer, pulling out a notepad and sitting it down atop the desk's top in front of me. I pulled my chair in closer and began to nibble on my lower lip.
I couldn't do this sober.
I stood up from my chair and turned, heading out of my bedroom and down the small hallway, making my way into my kitchen. Once there, I opened my refrigerator and leaned over just a little bit, eyeing over it's contents inside. My eyes fell upon a small, unopened bottle of Goldshlogger. I sort of scrunched my nose at the sight but decided against going to the store for some smoother alcohol. I reached for the bottle and stood back up, shutting the fridge back. I twisted the cap off of the small bottle as I headed back toward my bedroom. Once inside, I closed the door and decided that silence would be the best for this particular moment. No music. Just silence.
I sat back down in my chair and took a long swig of the harsh liquid, my face sort of scrunching up as I swallowed, shaking my head for a second before repeating, sitting the bottle down beside me on the desk. I took a slow breath and licked my lips, picking up my pen again and looking down at the notepad splayed in front of me.
Frowning, I picked up the bottle again and drank down a good portion of it forcefully, a shudder coursing through my body once I'd stopped. I sat it down with a 'thud' and blinked a few times, staring at the blank paper I was about to completely ruin with my thoughts.
Jesse,
I can't tell you how surprised I am that you've responded to my letters. I almost threw it away when I pulled it out of my mailbox, thinking that it was some sick kind of joke. But, I gave that idea some thought and realized that it'd be impossible. I noticed your hand writing right away, anyway. Now, here I am. I read your letter only minutes ago, and now, I am sitting at my desk, with a small bottle of Goldshlogger, trying to down it in under ten minutes. I didn't think I'd be able to write this letter sober. Perhaps the next one, I will. But not this one. I think it's because I am still in a state of shock.
Don't take this the wrong way, but when I read that you were suffering such as I, it brought a smile to my face. Not a big one. A very small, nearly faint one. I was happy to know that you knew how I was and am feeling. I'd do anything to be able to be there for you right now. But, I'm certain that would not go over too well. Who wants the person causing their pain to be there to comfort them? I sure as hell don't.
I switched to a new brand of cigarettes. The menthol's were getting to my throat horribly. I did not know that smoking Newport's for years on end, would only result in me coughing up blood. Had I known that, I'd have changed them earlier. I now smoke Marlboro Lights. They are much smoother, anyway, and the taste isn't that bad. I've gotten used to them.
You mentioned you didn't have a pet just yet. I see you having a fish as a pet, for some reason, and I'm not sure why. A goldfish, maybe. Yeah. A goldfish. A big one. I can picture you staring at it for hours, too. I think it'd amuse you. I heard that goldfish only have a memory spand of five seconds. I'm not sure if it's true, though, so don't quote me.
I think I drank the Goldshlogger too fast, because my head is already begin to grow warm. But, that was the whole point, so I am not complaining.
I have not done a lot of anything since my last letter. I was asked to babysit my nephew Collin, though, while my brother and his girlfriend had a night-out to themselves a few days ago. He is so beautiful, Jesse. He definitely has that Oberst-esque look to him. There's no denying that he isn't part of the family. He has my brothers eyes and my face shape. How odd is that? He is such a good baby, too. I fed him. I bathed him. I held him so carefully in my arms and even sung to him. It makes me want to have a child of my own someday. I don't see how that could happen, but it's a nice thought, at least. I don't think I'd be a good father, but that's a whole other story.
Did you know the word "bacchanalia" means a Russian, drunken orgy? I know that was random, but it's the buzz sneaking up on me talking. I know I'll soon be staggering in the slightest, but it will still be a stagger, nonetheless.
I still find it hard to believe that you wrote back to me. But I am also very happy about it, too, so don't get me wrong. I am feeling very pensive at the moment, but I'm not sure of how I can get out all of my thoughts to the point of making them sensable. I wish you were here right now. I wish we were sitting in my living room, drinking a cup of coffee, and having an aimless conversation. I think I'd give anything right now for that to become a reality.
Do you remember the time you and I drove two hours to find a park with a grill? That was so funny, and I still laugh when I think about it. You were getting so mad, and almost decided to turn around and go buy a grill. But I told you we'd find one, and we did. And, when we unloaded all of the food we'd brought to cook, the raccoons surounded us, along with the ducks, and you nearly cried. I know it's not something to laugh about, but it is comical when you give it some thought. We cooked so much food, and didn't even eat half of it. So we ended up throwing the food out to the animals. That was a weird park, anyway. Who would build a park next to woods?
We stayed at that park for hours, even after all the other occupants had left. We sat together and shared secrets out of sheer boredom. I will never forget the way you kissed me that night. Absolute shameless love.
I hope this doesn't anger you; bringing up memories, I mean. Memories are innevitable, but also nice sometimes. Depends on the memory, however. These, to me, are lovely things to remember. I apologize, though, if it bothers you.
Do you think we'll ever meet again? Accompany one another again? I just...want to see your face again. I've almost forgotten the sound of your voice, even. It's all beginning to blur together in my mind, and that is saddening to me. I don't want to forget one of the biggest things that came into my life.
My life...what a complete fucking joke. I'm an alcoholic. I'm a drug addict. I sleep endlessly. I write too much and don't talk enough. I lock myself inside my apartment for days at a time, and forget what sunshine feels like upon my face. I wince every time I walk outside in the day time.
I am looking forward to you responding to me, again. I want to know of what goes through your mind. My next letter will be more interesting, I promise.
So, I will end this here and write again another time.
...I love you, Jesse.
I hope you never forget that.
With love,
C. Oberst.
I blinked a few times as I scanned my eyes over the few sheets of paper I'd filled up and I sighed slowly. I'd finished off the whole bottle of Goldshlogger. Even though it wasn't a big bottle, it was still a lot to consume in one-setting. I reached for an envelope and scribbled down my address and his, all by memory, and picked up the roll of stamps I had beside the stack of envelopes. I placed one on the envelope and tore out the few pages of my letter from my notepad, folding them and placing them inside the envelope. I slid my tongue along the glue-line and sealed it shut, looking it over a couple times.
I stood up from my seat and stood still for a few long moments, my head spinning just a bit. I began to walk slowly toward my bedroom door and I pulled it open, heading out to my living room and to the front door. Walking out, I shut it behind me and made my way outside of my apartment building. I'd walked this way too many times to count.
Once outside, I saw the mail-man at the local blue mail-box on this street. I groaned and picked up my pace, jogging over to where he was emptying out the mailbox. Without a word, I approached him and handed my letter out to him. He offered me a smile and took it, placing it in one of his bags. I emitted another sigh and turned around, very slowly beginning to walk back toward my apartment building.
Maybe I should get a pet, too.
[ don't know if i should continue, due to this shitty chapter, but i've just had a few beers? so that could be the reason for this shittyness. just. tell me if you want more. or something. ]