(no subject)
Sometimes he lies awake. Sometimes he lies awake because the sunshine sneaks through the blinds and the curtains and through the little gap between his eyelids. Other times he lies awake because he's daydreaming, and his daydreams by far outshine his nightdreams, nightmares, maras who ride him in the night like he's their favorite beast of burden...
But sometimes, he curls up on top of the sheets of his entirely too big bed and looks out through the big, big windows to the outside world. He counts his losses one after the other, hoping against hope that there's still some left for him. Hope...that even after all the things he's done, all the questionable things, there's someone out there waiting for him to come along. Hoping that, that they'll never cross paths, that he'll never get to know whoever it is that haunts his dream-in-a-bottle. Hoping that he'll never find out who it is, this someone with a capital s that holds him so tight as to never let go, never want to. Hoping that he'll never again go through the pain of losing someone that matters that much, because he knows how he latches onto people, how he has trouble letting go once he's gotten attached and he simply can't let himself get attached. Not to anyone. Because, because the people he ends up caring about don't ever reach a ripe old age. They don't get to have peaceful, happy lives, so it's really for the best that he ripped this growing dream out by the roots. It's saved him a lot of heartache.
Times like this time, like this very moment, Lorne lies curled up on the bed with his back turned to the sunshine, wondering if having his dream, his dream of dreams removed wasn't the worst mistake of his life.
But sometimes, he curls up on top of the sheets of his entirely too big bed and looks out through the big, big windows to the outside world. He counts his losses one after the other, hoping against hope that there's still some left for him. Hope...that even after all the things he's done, all the questionable things, there's someone out there waiting for him to come along. Hoping that, that they'll never cross paths, that he'll never get to know whoever it is that haunts his dream-in-a-bottle. Hoping that he'll never find out who it is, this someone with a capital s that holds him so tight as to never let go, never want to. Hoping that he'll never again go through the pain of losing someone that matters that much, because he knows how he latches onto people, how he has trouble letting go once he's gotten attached and he simply can't let himself get attached. Not to anyone. Because, because the people he ends up caring about don't ever reach a ripe old age. They don't get to have peaceful, happy lives, so it's really for the best that he ripped this growing dream out by the roots. It's saved him a lot of heartache.
Times like this time, like this very moment, Lorne lies curled up on the bed with his back turned to the sunshine, wondering if having his dream, his dream of dreams removed wasn't the worst mistake of his life.