49.1 What's missing?
Bobby is back in our home and it feels like he has found a religion.
He said he worshiped me and I didn’t believe him. I still don’t. He doesn’t worship me, he worships what us being together represents to him. I have become the talisman of his sanity. The touch stone of his faith and obsession. He needs to kill, to toy with people as a compulsion no less deep than my own. But this relationship he needs to feel like a person.
He cut a heart shape from his chest. Stood and cut it out of his own flesh. Marked it with his own blood. A sacrifice to that faith. He collected his own blood in two vials. Blood sacrifice to it. Two, a number of both chaos and perfection, balance and instability. Tattooed his skin an explanation that was as close to an apology as he could get and then cut the flesh to muscle as well. Sacrifice of pain. Finally he removed his own kneecap and wrote a borrowed love poem on it. Sacrifice of bone.
He walked to me to deliver the bone and ask me if I had broken what now seems to be a sacred trust. I told him no and he was ready to collapse. I took him in because I know the truth of it. Forsaken by his faith, by his religion, so long as the trust was not broken, he would sacrifice every part of himself to gain it back. Leave himself nothing but rotted fleshy scars and whatever bits he would not sacrifice. I love him too much to allow that. Perhaps that is why I could not let go.
I do not share his religion. I do not have faith as such. Gods fall. Religions betray. All things pass with time. I am a person, as much as I can be with or without a relationship. I’m no one to have that kind of faith in. It unnerves me in the same way the unquestioning faith of the children can. I work miracles for those who expect me to, but there’s no faith involved. They expect without hope or need. It’s what I am. This is different. I did not take him back because things had changed. Everything had changed.
We’ll fight. He’ll forget that I don’t need him in the same way he needs me. He take me for granted. My eyes will wander. I’ll stalk out of the house in clothing that will make him think I’m going out to find someone to fuck. I’ll think about it. I may even kiss someone. We’ll fight. Someone will walk out. He’ll try to show me that other women will want him, like that’s ever mattered to me other than annoyance. I don’t judge the desirability of my mate by how others see them. If I had I’d have stuck with Auberon.
He’ll find someone to replace me or he won’t. He’s left me too many times for me not to have gained some resistance to it’s poisons. I’ve been described as a one woman study in evolution, after all. His religion will be tested time and again. Seeing what I’ve seen of human faith and religion over time, I do not trust it to last. I want it to. I really, truly do. But I don’t think I can trust it to do so. That’s the shame of religion, really. There’s always something missing to survive the test of time.
Mab
Original Character
583
Partner animus_nocendi
He said he worshiped me and I didn’t believe him. I still don’t. He doesn’t worship me, he worships what us being together represents to him. I have become the talisman of his sanity. The touch stone of his faith and obsession. He needs to kill, to toy with people as a compulsion no less deep than my own. But this relationship he needs to feel like a person.
He cut a heart shape from his chest. Stood and cut it out of his own flesh. Marked it with his own blood. A sacrifice to that faith. He collected his own blood in two vials. Blood sacrifice to it. Two, a number of both chaos and perfection, balance and instability. Tattooed his skin an explanation that was as close to an apology as he could get and then cut the flesh to muscle as well. Sacrifice of pain. Finally he removed his own kneecap and wrote a borrowed love poem on it. Sacrifice of bone.
He walked to me to deliver the bone and ask me if I had broken what now seems to be a sacred trust. I told him no and he was ready to collapse. I took him in because I know the truth of it. Forsaken by his faith, by his religion, so long as the trust was not broken, he would sacrifice every part of himself to gain it back. Leave himself nothing but rotted fleshy scars and whatever bits he would not sacrifice. I love him too much to allow that. Perhaps that is why I could not let go.
I do not share his religion. I do not have faith as such. Gods fall. Religions betray. All things pass with time. I am a person, as much as I can be with or without a relationship. I’m no one to have that kind of faith in. It unnerves me in the same way the unquestioning faith of the children can. I work miracles for those who expect me to, but there’s no faith involved. They expect without hope or need. It’s what I am. This is different. I did not take him back because things had changed. Everything had changed.
We’ll fight. He’ll forget that I don’t need him in the same way he needs me. He take me for granted. My eyes will wander. I’ll stalk out of the house in clothing that will make him think I’m going out to find someone to fuck. I’ll think about it. I may even kiss someone. We’ll fight. Someone will walk out. He’ll try to show me that other women will want him, like that’s ever mattered to me other than annoyance. I don’t judge the desirability of my mate by how others see them. If I had I’d have stuck with Auberon.
He’ll find someone to replace me or he won’t. He’s left me too many times for me not to have gained some resistance to it’s poisons. I’ve been described as a one woman study in evolution, after all. His religion will be tested time and again. Seeing what I’ve seen of human faith and religion over time, I do not trust it to last. I want it to. I really, truly do. But I don’t think I can trust it to do so. That’s the shame of religion, really. There’s always something missing to survive the test of time.
Mab
Original Character
583
Partner animus_nocendi