(no subject)
She can see it all happening: she'd stay with him, keep falling for him, and eventually she'd hit the bottom, look around and find herself flat on her back, loving him, needing him. But she'd turn her head to find him and he'd still be falling - he'll love her more than she's capable of loving him. It's a narcissistic, terrible thought and for a moment she hates herself more for her own arrogance than anything else, but she knows it's true. It's the one thing that keeps her distant, more than wanting to compartmentalize, more than wanting to keep herself to herself and have the things that are hers belong to her and her alone: she doesn't know how to love that way.
You can love someone too much, you can love him until he's the sun and he lights the world around you, makes it possible for you to live and thrive and be. But loving someone that way gives him too much power - one of these days, he'll look over and see what he's got and it won't be enough, she won't be enough, or he'll suddenly see all the small, mean parts of herself she keeps tucked in her pocket and he'll walk away. When he does, she'll be left in the dark alone.
Luke deserves to be loved the way she wants to love him; he deserves to be the sun because he really is good enough for it. [...] But if she loves him more than just enough, if she's the one loving more, loving better, she'll still lose him because she's not bright enough to be the sun and when he realizes the world around him has dimmed, he'll leave her and she'll be in the same place, but alone and broken and full to the brim with feeling meant to be given away and with no one left to take it.
She's gotten in this deeper than she'd expected to and now she's worried that when he leaves, when he decides she's really not worth it after all, he'll take so much of her with him that she'll never be the same person. He has no idea of the ferocity of her affection, of the need with which she holds him, and the lengths she knows she'd go to keep him scare her more that most things.
- the presence of absence by holy lulalicious
*drops dead*
You can love someone too much, you can love him until he's the sun and he lights the world around you, makes it possible for you to live and thrive and be. But loving someone that way gives him too much power - one of these days, he'll look over and see what he's got and it won't be enough, she won't be enough, or he'll suddenly see all the small, mean parts of herself she keeps tucked in her pocket and he'll walk away. When he does, she'll be left in the dark alone.
Luke deserves to be loved the way she wants to love him; he deserves to be the sun because he really is good enough for it. [...] But if she loves him more than just enough, if she's the one loving more, loving better, she'll still lose him because she's not bright enough to be the sun and when he realizes the world around him has dimmed, he'll leave her and she'll be in the same place, but alone and broken and full to the brim with feeling meant to be given away and with no one left to take it.
She's gotten in this deeper than she'd expected to and now she's worried that when he leaves, when he decides she's really not worth it after all, he'll take so much of her with him that she'll never be the same person. He has no idea of the ferocity of her affection, of the need with which she holds him, and the lengths she knows she'd go to keep him scare her more that most things.
- the presence of absence by holy lulalicious
*drops dead*