Prompt for sunday_reveries - Quote #3
"You know it's never fifty-fifty. It's always seventy-thirty, or sixty-forty. Someone falls in love first. Someone puts someone else up on a pedestal. Someone works very hard to keep things rolling smoothly; someone else sails along for the ride."
-Jodi Picoult
Cassandra had always felt like things were too hard when it came to love. Either she was trying harder than the other, or she simply didn't try enough. Usually it was the former.
Only when the relationship could be potentially good for her did it seem like she used little to no effort.
Aziraphale had been a glaring example of someone she simply never TRIED to hold on to. He'd loved her passionately, treated her far better than she felt she deserved, and yet... she destroyed what they could have had by loving not one, but TWO men. Two men who were disastrous to her in the end.
Nathan. God, but how she had loved him. Fiercely, loyally... he had been everything to her. He had been the first that she had given herself to so thoroughly since she'd lost Emmalina nearly 6 centuries before. And she had worked, and made every effort she could think of to keep him happy and safe in her rather morbid and dangerous life. Yet... in the end, he hadn't tried to hold onto it. He'd actually pushed her away. It wasn't something she hated him for. On the contrary, she knew how much his brother meant to him and that was something greater than what they'd had. But it didn't make her heart stop aching.
And then there was one. Methos. He'd nearly destroyed her over and over and over again, and yet... they were still who they were. They still bickered, they still... felt. Felt what, Cassandra didn't know. But what she did know, very clearly, was that in ANY incarnation of their 'relationship'; be it hate, love, dependency, or tolerance; she always felt more than he did. Always PUSHED harder than he did. Always more from her. It was something that infuriated her, because she wondered if it was as if he didn't feel she was worth the effort. Even if he got just as angry with her as she was, she would feel... not happy obviously, but... marginally satisfied. Or if he conveyed as much confusion over what they did as she felt... maybe then she would feel as though they were on equal ground.
No, she was certain she would never find that balance. Like so many of the women she was trying to help with the centers, she was stuck in cycle. But after three millenia, she wasn't sure there WAS an escape for her.
-Jodi Picoult
Cassandra had always felt like things were too hard when it came to love. Either she was trying harder than the other, or she simply didn't try enough. Usually it was the former.
Only when the relationship could be potentially good for her did it seem like she used little to no effort.
Aziraphale had been a glaring example of someone she simply never TRIED to hold on to. He'd loved her passionately, treated her far better than she felt she deserved, and yet... she destroyed what they could have had by loving not one, but TWO men. Two men who were disastrous to her in the end.
Nathan. God, but how she had loved him. Fiercely, loyally... he had been everything to her. He had been the first that she had given herself to so thoroughly since she'd lost Emmalina nearly 6 centuries before. And she had worked, and made every effort she could think of to keep him happy and safe in her rather morbid and dangerous life. Yet... in the end, he hadn't tried to hold onto it. He'd actually pushed her away. It wasn't something she hated him for. On the contrary, she knew how much his brother meant to him and that was something greater than what they'd had. But it didn't make her heart stop aching.
And then there was one. Methos. He'd nearly destroyed her over and over and over again, and yet... they were still who they were. They still bickered, they still... felt. Felt what, Cassandra didn't know. But what she did know, very clearly, was that in ANY incarnation of their 'relationship'; be it hate, love, dependency, or tolerance; she always felt more than he did. Always PUSHED harder than he did. Always more from her. It was something that infuriated her, because she wondered if it was as if he didn't feel she was worth the effort. Even if he got just as angry with her as she was, she would feel... not happy obviously, but... marginally satisfied. Or if he conveyed as much confusion over what they did as she felt... maybe then she would feel as though they were on equal ground.
No, she was certain she would never find that balance. Like so many of the women she was trying to help with the centers, she was stuck in cycle. But after three millenia, she wasn't sure there WAS an escape for her.