[Comm] Sunday Reveries: All I've Seen and All I've Done [1]
Before I make any promises,
before you have regrets,
before we talk commitment,
let me tell you of my past.
All I've seen and all I've done.
The things I'd like to forget.
- Tracy Chapman
He sits and watch as the sunset displays more shades of pink than anyone could imagine possible. Gradually, slowly, like an artist putting brush to pot then brushing paint on canvas, one stroke at a time, the pink becomes reds and golds and the clouds pick up every nuance and lights up the sky in a resplendence that promises a little piece of heaven.
He wouldn't mind dying now, he thinks.
But as the day turns into night, he remembers...
There's something, someone, worth fighting for.
The memory comes quickly to him; her name resounds in his mind with strength of a particular kind, more immediate than his breath even. It's the damnedest thing.
I loved you then, that girl holding on to your hand for dear life and I love you now and a hundred years from now that'll still be true.
Tabitha...
He stares down at the ring on his finger.
Will ya marry me?
There's a light beyond the horizon and somewhere further than that is the place he calls home.
Ah'm done fightin', Nathan. Ya gotta let me go.
But one step forward, and then another, and once again, he's back where he started.
Tabby...
There's blood on his hands and an aching in his chest and a hole where his heart used to be.
You can't go back, son.
Waking up with a start, Sam clutches a hand against his chest. The loud thudding of his heart is the only thing that convinces him he's whole again.
It's a warm spring afternoon but the heat of the day has softened. Tabby's sleeping form remains beside him; unchanging, her face turned towards him, one leg crossed over his. The gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin sheets assures him that she's still in deep sleep.
He closes his eyes against the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.
Get up.
"Sam."
He sees an image of a man kneeling in front of him.
Your fear is just a projection of your own bullshit, son.
"Sammy? What's wrong?"
He opens his eyes and sees Tabby staring back at him with concern in her eyes.
Sam can't bring himself to speak the truth.
"... Ah'm fine."
[ticktabby used with permission and love.]
before you have regrets,
before we talk commitment,
let me tell you of my past.
All I've seen and all I've done.
The things I'd like to forget.
- Tracy Chapman
He sits and watch as the sunset displays more shades of pink than anyone could imagine possible. Gradually, slowly, like an artist putting brush to pot then brushing paint on canvas, one stroke at a time, the pink becomes reds and golds and the clouds pick up every nuance and lights up the sky in a resplendence that promises a little piece of heaven.
He wouldn't mind dying now, he thinks.
But as the day turns into night, he remembers...
There's something, someone, worth fighting for.
The memory comes quickly to him; her name resounds in his mind with strength of a particular kind, more immediate than his breath even. It's the damnedest thing.
I loved you then, that girl holding on to your hand for dear life and I love you now and a hundred years from now that'll still be true.
Tabitha...
He stares down at the ring on his finger.
Will ya marry me?
There's a light beyond the horizon and somewhere further than that is the place he calls home.
Ah'm done fightin', Nathan. Ya gotta let me go.
But one step forward, and then another, and once again, he's back where he started.
Tabby...
There's blood on his hands and an aching in his chest and a hole where his heart used to be.
You can't go back, son.
Waking up with a start, Sam clutches a hand against his chest. The loud thudding of his heart is the only thing that convinces him he's whole again.
It's a warm spring afternoon but the heat of the day has softened. Tabby's sleeping form remains beside him; unchanging, her face turned towards him, one leg crossed over his. The gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin sheets assures him that she's still in deep sleep.
He closes his eyes against the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.
Get up.
"Sam."
He sees an image of a man kneeling in front of him.
Your fear is just a projection of your own bullshit, son.
"Sammy? What's wrong?"
He opens his eyes and sees Tabby staring back at him with concern in her eyes.
Sam can't bring himself to speak the truth.
"... Ah'm fine."
[ticktabby used with permission and love.]