(no subject)
I have no idea where this came from. Seriously, one second I was putting together a post about one thing and then I was braindumping this into a word file. It isn't fic but it could very well be fiction, told through the voice of an unidentified female in third person.
Seriously, if you're looking for fannish content these are not the droids you're looking for. And I'm locking it only because there are people who may read it who would get the wrong idea about it.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love, it was that she didn’t trust. Which was, frankly, a baffling truth. She didn’t have any reason not to trust, no dark, secret love affair that broke her heart or anything sinister or ugly about her childhood. She’d been loved as a child, cherished even, and while she had her share of neuroses and phobias that stemmed from those halcyon days they were the normal kind, the sort that spring up because parents had once been children too, subject to the whims and judgments of their own far-from-perfect parental figures. She’d once told her mother that she thought a parent was triumphant when they were able to mess up their children less than they’d been messed up and she could honestly say that her parents had accomplished that very difficult goal. Truthfully, she was consistently the least fucked over member of any group of friends she’d ever been in. Her issues and problems were penny ante compared to the kinds of things people she knew and loved had to deal with daily so she tried not to worry about it. There were so many worse things than being alone.
She did know that she couldn’t do things halfway. If she was going to love it was with her entire being. It didn’t matter who it was or why she loved them, once a person, plant, animal or thing was in it was in and there was no turning back. Breaking up with a friend was hard enough-so hard that it had occurred less than a handful of times in her life-she didn’t think she could’ve handled it if romance had been thrown in on top.
At the heart of the problem was fear. But fear was at the heart of every problem and at least she was clear-headed enough to admit it to herself. Though maybe the knowing made it worse, turned the fear into a sin. She worried about that, sometimes, that she should be working to overcome, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she could actually do to change. She wasn’t going to go out and fall in love just for the sake of falling in love. She was afraid, not stupid.
The deepest truth she knew about love was that you had to earn it. You don’t get to keep people and you’re never enough.
If being alone meant keeping that bright and open thing inside of her unbroken then it was a price she was willing to pay, and pay gladly. Maybe life wasn’t supposed to be about absolutes but for her it had never been anything but.
Seriously, if you're looking for fannish content these are not the droids you're looking for. And I'm locking it only because there are people who may read it who would get the wrong idea about it.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love, it was that she didn’t trust. Which was, frankly, a baffling truth. She didn’t have any reason not to trust, no dark, secret love affair that broke her heart or anything sinister or ugly about her childhood. She’d been loved as a child, cherished even, and while she had her share of neuroses and phobias that stemmed from those halcyon days they were the normal kind, the sort that spring up because parents had once been children too, subject to the whims and judgments of their own far-from-perfect parental figures. She’d once told her mother that she thought a parent was triumphant when they were able to mess up their children less than they’d been messed up and she could honestly say that her parents had accomplished that very difficult goal. Truthfully, she was consistently the least fucked over member of any group of friends she’d ever been in. Her issues and problems were penny ante compared to the kinds of things people she knew and loved had to deal with daily so she tried not to worry about it. There were so many worse things than being alone.
She did know that she couldn’t do things halfway. If she was going to love it was with her entire being. It didn’t matter who it was or why she loved them, once a person, plant, animal or thing was in it was in and there was no turning back. Breaking up with a friend was hard enough-so hard that it had occurred less than a handful of times in her life-she didn’t think she could’ve handled it if romance had been thrown in on top.
At the heart of the problem was fear. But fear was at the heart of every problem and at least she was clear-headed enough to admit it to herself. Though maybe the knowing made it worse, turned the fear into a sin. She worried about that, sometimes, that she should be working to overcome, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what she could actually do to change. She wasn’t going to go out and fall in love just for the sake of falling in love. She was afraid, not stupid.
The deepest truth she knew about love was that you had to earn it. You don’t get to keep people and you’re never enough.
If being alone meant keeping that bright and open thing inside of her unbroken then it was a price she was willing to pay, and pay gladly. Maybe life wasn’t supposed to be about absolutes but for her it had never been anything but.