RP: Intersections
Date: March 5, 2006
Character(s): Michael Corner
Location: St. Ives, Cornwall
Status: Private
Summary: Michael has some things to sort out
Completion: Complete
Michael had always spent a lot of time inside his own head, but this was getting ridiculous. Maybe it was that life was getting too complicated to control, that he’d taken on too much, with his two jobs and the book he was working on again and the work that was still being done on his house. Or maybe it was his mother’s death, and the fact that he had to confront his own mortality. Or maybe it was that her death had forced him to think about things he’d preferred not to think of for years, things such as love and grief and his fear of being left alone again. Or maybe it was seeing what her death had done to his dad.
He just couldn’t shut his mind off long enough to get anything done properly, and his students and colleagues were beginning to notice.
He’d taken the weekend off, grabbed a couple of books and an empty journal and taken a cottage by the seashore. It was too cold to bathe, but he didn’t mind much, it meant that the place was nearly empty, and anyway, the wind and damp suited him. He had a chair on the porch and a case of beer to relax him, and an unobstructed view of the rocky shore. It was bloody well perfect.
Well, maybe not perfect, per se. It might have been nice to have somebody to talk to-or not talk to perhaps-to just sit and share his solitude. And to shag later, if he was going to be honest. But not just that-to care for, to be taken care of, someone to bounce the ideas that were currently having a Quidditch match in his head off of.
Since when had he needed people, anyway? How had things changed so much in the last six months? Was it his fault for thinking that he needed to find a place to call home, or was it just human nature to feel the urge to settle in every way possible?
He wasn’t making either of them happy, that he knew. Both of them wanted more from him, and every time he gave to one, it felt like taking away from the other. They were so different, each so fascinating in their own way.
Marietta challenged him, making mental and emotional and physical demands upon him. Dennis was a nurturer, taking immense personal satisfaction from taking care of Michael needs. Both were addictive.
He hadn’t meant to become emotionally involved with either of them. It was just supposed to be sex. But they’d burrowed into his heart in very different ways, and continuing the path he was on was sure to hurt both of them.
The alternative was to hurt one of them, and he hated that it had come to that.
His own damn fault for thinking he could have it all.
He knew he was going to have to make a change, to make a choice, but how was he possibly going to do that? Marietta meant-well not exactly an easy life, but a more traditionally acceptable life. With her, he’d not have to deal with other people judging his lifestyle choices, and there was the possibility of children.
But he’d begun to embrace the side of himself that Dennis represented, and Dennis seemed more likely to accept him as he was, possibly even giving him the freedom to explore it further.
Maybe it was easier to consider not choosing, to consider taking off again, abandoning his ties here and trying again someplace else. The trouble was that his new community had become woven into the fabric of his life and he really didn’t want to break free.
So many people he’d grown attached to; Orla with her clever mind and warm heart and disastrous social life. Sharing a comfortable pint with Harry every few weeks at the pub with both of them managing to ignore the fact that they had once kissed in a dark basement. Rosmerta behind the bar with her bawdy jokes, throaty laugh and spectacular bosom. The sweet, bubbly girl at the chocolate shop and the funny, clumsy girl at the paper shop and the sullen, sarcastic boy at the coffee shop and the clever, pretty girl at the gallery. Ernie at the gym and the sappy look on his face as he spoke of his beautiful new wife. Wayne at the community center, the most easygoing man Michael had ever met, though technically his boss, he supposed. Caradoc at school, with his twinkling eyes and a voice that made one think of cool drinks on a porch swing overlooking a meandering river. Irma at the library, who might have grudgingly liked him for his love of books, though he’d never had the nerve to call her anything but Madam Pince to her face. Ginny on a blanket, listening to music under the stars, making him remember the Michael who’d thought the world was full of possibilities and life was going to be wonderful. His students, who still thought that.
No, Michael wasn’t running away again. He was going to stay and deal with the problems he’d created, even if it meant he was going to hurt someone he cared about. The answer was clear, he knew who he was going to choose. He knew who needed him more. Now if only he could work out how exactly he was going to do it. Maybe it was time to go home.
Character(s): Michael Corner
Location: St. Ives, Cornwall
Status: Private
Summary: Michael has some things to sort out
Completion: Complete
Michael had always spent a lot of time inside his own head, but this was getting ridiculous. Maybe it was that life was getting too complicated to control, that he’d taken on too much, with his two jobs and the book he was working on again and the work that was still being done on his house. Or maybe it was his mother’s death, and the fact that he had to confront his own mortality. Or maybe it was that her death had forced him to think about things he’d preferred not to think of for years, things such as love and grief and his fear of being left alone again. Or maybe it was seeing what her death had done to his dad.
He just couldn’t shut his mind off long enough to get anything done properly, and his students and colleagues were beginning to notice.
He’d taken the weekend off, grabbed a couple of books and an empty journal and taken a cottage by the seashore. It was too cold to bathe, but he didn’t mind much, it meant that the place was nearly empty, and anyway, the wind and damp suited him. He had a chair on the porch and a case of beer to relax him, and an unobstructed view of the rocky shore. It was bloody well perfect.
Well, maybe not perfect, per se. It might have been nice to have somebody to talk to-or not talk to perhaps-to just sit and share his solitude. And to shag later, if he was going to be honest. But not just that-to care for, to be taken care of, someone to bounce the ideas that were currently having a Quidditch match in his head off of.
Since when had he needed people, anyway? How had things changed so much in the last six months? Was it his fault for thinking that he needed to find a place to call home, or was it just human nature to feel the urge to settle in every way possible?
He wasn’t making either of them happy, that he knew. Both of them wanted more from him, and every time he gave to one, it felt like taking away from the other. They were so different, each so fascinating in their own way.
Marietta challenged him, making mental and emotional and physical demands upon him. Dennis was a nurturer, taking immense personal satisfaction from taking care of Michael needs. Both were addictive.
He hadn’t meant to become emotionally involved with either of them. It was just supposed to be sex. But they’d burrowed into his heart in very different ways, and continuing the path he was on was sure to hurt both of them.
The alternative was to hurt one of them, and he hated that it had come to that.
His own damn fault for thinking he could have it all.
He knew he was going to have to make a change, to make a choice, but how was he possibly going to do that? Marietta meant-well not exactly an easy life, but a more traditionally acceptable life. With her, he’d not have to deal with other people judging his lifestyle choices, and there was the possibility of children.
But he’d begun to embrace the side of himself that Dennis represented, and Dennis seemed more likely to accept him as he was, possibly even giving him the freedom to explore it further.
Maybe it was easier to consider not choosing, to consider taking off again, abandoning his ties here and trying again someplace else. The trouble was that his new community had become woven into the fabric of his life and he really didn’t want to break free.
So many people he’d grown attached to; Orla with her clever mind and warm heart and disastrous social life. Sharing a comfortable pint with Harry every few weeks at the pub with both of them managing to ignore the fact that they had once kissed in a dark basement. Rosmerta behind the bar with her bawdy jokes, throaty laugh and spectacular bosom. The sweet, bubbly girl at the chocolate shop and the funny, clumsy girl at the paper shop and the sullen, sarcastic boy at the coffee shop and the clever, pretty girl at the gallery. Ernie at the gym and the sappy look on his face as he spoke of his beautiful new wife. Wayne at the community center, the most easygoing man Michael had ever met, though technically his boss, he supposed. Caradoc at school, with his twinkling eyes and a voice that made one think of cool drinks on a porch swing overlooking a meandering river. Irma at the library, who might have grudgingly liked him for his love of books, though he’d never had the nerve to call her anything but Madam Pince to her face. Ginny on a blanket, listening to music under the stars, making him remember the Michael who’d thought the world was full of possibilities and life was going to be wonderful. His students, who still thought that.
No, Michael wasn’t running away again. He was going to stay and deal with the problems he’d created, even if it meant he was going to hurt someone he cared about. The answer was clear, he knew who he was going to choose. He knew who needed him more. Now if only he could work out how exactly he was going to do it. Maybe it was time to go home.