vague short story, I guess...
Okay, I have no idea where this is going, if anywhere, but I was possessed by the spirit of a melancholy G'linda from the musical version of Wicked. If anyone has an idea of where to point this into some structure, I'd be much obliged. :p In the meantime, here's her blathering on...
Springtime was always my favourite season. Summer is too dry, winter too cold, and fall is too much a reminder of the death of things. I don't want to remember such things. No, spring is the good times, the good memories. It's warm and vibrant and full of surprises. Full of life and beginnings. So green. As green as the gentle arms she held me in. She was full of beginnings, too. Possibilities. She, probably more so than any of us, had possibilities. That she chose to share a few of them with me still catches in my throat... My Elphaba...
Spring without her just isn't as welcoming. The remainder of the year? Almost unbearable. She used to tease that my golden curls could outshine the very summer sun. But the truth is, she was my sun, and my world is colder in her absence.
Madame Morrible claimed to encourage talent. I don't think she realised which talents those were when we began as her pupils. My Elphie was an instigator, but her talent- her green thumb if you'll excuse the pun, was cultivating people. Making them think of things greater than themselves and helping them to believe it could make a difference. My talents were not so readily apparent. I may not have even had any, if it hadn't been for Elphie. She challenged me to grow. I couldn't deny her. I could never deny her anything.
I suppose that isn't true... I did deny her, once. I didn't believe in her. I think now that is probably when I truly lost her. The rest was just the slow downward slide. She saw the doubt in my eyes. It hardened her. But even as she disappeared into the sky on that broom of hers for the frist time, I could see she forgave me my insecurity. I held that against her for a long time. How could she be so forgiving of me turning my back on her? She had no one, and I spurned her after being her strongest advocate and supporter. I'd have been furious in her position. That she wasn't was like a slap in the face of my own shortcomings. I still had a lot of growing to do.
Where was I? My talent? I became quite a public figure. I learned to use my blondeness to my advantage. Elphie may have taught me how to use the mind behind these perfect ringlets, but my talent is obscuring that behind a facade of superficiality. Oh, I still love the dresses and shoes and parties and dinners and gala events... But they aren't what's important. I suppose that's what makes the difference. Elphie was never superficial. But she always let me doll her up and parade her around on my arm like a trophy. My trophy. The popular girl's pet. I sometimes think she resented me for that. As much as she wanted acceptance, she was fiercely independent, my Elphie.
Will you listen to me? "My" Elphie. As if she could ever be contained in so small a box! She was never mine- you could sooner catch the winds she rode. But we were each other's, for a time.
And that silliness about Fiyero? I never loved him. Not really. But she was gone, and he was always around. And I was so mad at her for having the strength to leave! Then he followed her, and I felt alone. So I blamed her for Fiyero having the courage to go after her- the ability to do what I could not. Did he love her? It's possible. I didn't care, though. He did what I wanted to do. And I hated her for it. Hated her for abandoning me because I couldn't be what she needed. Hated her for allowing him to come along. I realise now it was only because she knew I wasn't ready to follow her, and if by having him with her she would have a part of me then she'd settle for that.
I hated her for loving me.
She did, as much as she knew how. She loved me enough to let me go. Her love was as free and vibrant as she was.
Did I love her?
To distraction... But mine was a selfish love. It's why I couldn't go with her. I wanted her to stay with me. I didn't understand that I was clipping the wings of her spirit. I knew she needed to fly. But it frightened me. The unknown. I was still tied to being superficial. It was safe, predictable.
It never occured to me that the independence I loved in her was what I kept pushing away from...
Springtime was always my favourite season. Summer is too dry, winter too cold, and fall is too much a reminder of the death of things. I don't want to remember such things. No, spring is the good times, the good memories. It's warm and vibrant and full of surprises. Full of life and beginnings. So green. As green as the gentle arms she held me in. She was full of beginnings, too. Possibilities. She, probably more so than any of us, had possibilities. That she chose to share a few of them with me still catches in my throat... My Elphaba...
Spring without her just isn't as welcoming. The remainder of the year? Almost unbearable. She used to tease that my golden curls could outshine the very summer sun. But the truth is, she was my sun, and my world is colder in her absence.
Madame Morrible claimed to encourage talent. I don't think she realised which talents those were when we began as her pupils. My Elphie was an instigator, but her talent- her green thumb if you'll excuse the pun, was cultivating people. Making them think of things greater than themselves and helping them to believe it could make a difference. My talents were not so readily apparent. I may not have even had any, if it hadn't been for Elphie. She challenged me to grow. I couldn't deny her. I could never deny her anything.
I suppose that isn't true... I did deny her, once. I didn't believe in her. I think now that is probably when I truly lost her. The rest was just the slow downward slide. She saw the doubt in my eyes. It hardened her. But even as she disappeared into the sky on that broom of hers for the frist time, I could see she forgave me my insecurity. I held that against her for a long time. How could she be so forgiving of me turning my back on her? She had no one, and I spurned her after being her strongest advocate and supporter. I'd have been furious in her position. That she wasn't was like a slap in the face of my own shortcomings. I still had a lot of growing to do.
Where was I? My talent? I became quite a public figure. I learned to use my blondeness to my advantage. Elphie may have taught me how to use the mind behind these perfect ringlets, but my talent is obscuring that behind a facade of superficiality. Oh, I still love the dresses and shoes and parties and dinners and gala events... But they aren't what's important. I suppose that's what makes the difference. Elphie was never superficial. But she always let me doll her up and parade her around on my arm like a trophy. My trophy. The popular girl's pet. I sometimes think she resented me for that. As much as she wanted acceptance, she was fiercely independent, my Elphie.
Will you listen to me? "My" Elphie. As if she could ever be contained in so small a box! She was never mine- you could sooner catch the winds she rode. But we were each other's, for a time.
And that silliness about Fiyero? I never loved him. Not really. But she was gone, and he was always around. And I was so mad at her for having the strength to leave! Then he followed her, and I felt alone. So I blamed her for Fiyero having the courage to go after her- the ability to do what I could not. Did he love her? It's possible. I didn't care, though. He did what I wanted to do. And I hated her for it. Hated her for abandoning me because I couldn't be what she needed. Hated her for allowing him to come along. I realise now it was only because she knew I wasn't ready to follow her, and if by having him with her she would have a part of me then she'd settle for that.
I hated her for loving me.
She did, as much as she knew how. She loved me enough to let me go. Her love was as free and vibrant as she was.
Did I love her?
To distraction... But mine was a selfish love. It's why I couldn't go with her. I wanted her to stay with me. I didn't understand that I was clipping the wings of her spirit. I knew she needed to fly. But it frightened me. The unknown. I was still tied to being superficial. It was safe, predictable.
It never occured to me that the independence I loved in her was what I kept pushing away from...