Monday Maunderings.
Have a real snippet, this week. I'm cutting it not for length, but subject matter.
After his rescue, he's on Alex's yacht as they're trying to get him used to normal life again (such as it is around them, anyway), and go:
Ben twitched awake from yet another nightmare. He gently disentangled himself from Janni's sleeping arms and slid out of the bed. Sitting up, he scrubbed his hand through his hair and across his face.
He couldn't do this.
Couldn't put Janni through this again.
He dropped a kiss to her cheek and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. A few moments later, he found himself at the rail on the deck, looking at the phosphorescent wake and the stars, considering his options.
Part of him just wanted to end it, here and now. A dive over the side, claws in his throat, and he'd bleed out in the warm embrace of a tropic ocean. No muss, no fuss.
Another part of him rebelled strongly against the notion. Disappearing like that without a word to anyone would devastate Janni and negate all the hard work she'd done finding him and getting him out of there.
But he was wrecked and arguably as crazy as a bedbug. No amount of therapy would ever put him to rights again, and he couldn't ask Janni to sit by his side and watch him descend farther and farther into madness as his brain gave up the ghost for good.
He could leave her a note, he supposed. "Sorry, honey, couldn't handle it, thanks for trying, love, Ben."
Yeah, that wouldn't make her cry, not at all.
And the idea of making her cry over his death was just as intolerable as making her cry over his insanity. He couldn't win. It was enough to make him want to bang his head on the railing.
Ben can't win, and neither can I. You know I love your comments...
After his rescue, he's on Alex's yacht as they're trying to get him used to normal life again (such as it is around them, anyway), and go:
Ben twitched awake from yet another nightmare. He gently disentangled himself from Janni's sleeping arms and slid out of the bed. Sitting up, he scrubbed his hand through his hair and across his face.
He couldn't do this.
Couldn't put Janni through this again.
He dropped a kiss to her cheek and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. A few moments later, he found himself at the rail on the deck, looking at the phosphorescent wake and the stars, considering his options.
Part of him just wanted to end it, here and now. A dive over the side, claws in his throat, and he'd bleed out in the warm embrace of a tropic ocean. No muss, no fuss.
Another part of him rebelled strongly against the notion. Disappearing like that without a word to anyone would devastate Janni and negate all the hard work she'd done finding him and getting him out of there.
But he was wrecked and arguably as crazy as a bedbug. No amount of therapy would ever put him to rights again, and he couldn't ask Janni to sit by his side and watch him descend farther and farther into madness as his brain gave up the ghost for good.
He could leave her a note, he supposed. "Sorry, honey, couldn't handle it, thanks for trying, love, Ben."
Yeah, that wouldn't make her cry, not at all.
And the idea of making her cry over his death was just as intolerable as making her cry over his insanity. He couldn't win. It was enough to make him want to bang his head on the railing.
Ben can't win, and neither can I. You know I love your comments...