mindsplinters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mindsplinters) wrote2010-03-25 01:58 am
mindsplinters) wrote2010-03-25 01:58 am
31 Days: Day Eighteen
So I'm horribly out of order and behind and... It's okay. I keep telling myself it's okay. It's better than dwelling on the nightmare that was work today.
World: GesMa
Characters: Bjorn
In the dark, quiet days following the note, Bjorn kept his own counsel. No one else shared his thoughts or knew the darkness that preyed on his mind. He carried it with him out of some masochistic sense of duty and penance combined. He often read it before he fell asleep and he slept a great number of hours. He knew his mother worried and that increased his guilt but, at the same time, a small, treacherous corner of his mind whispered that it served her right.
He did not like that corner of his mind. It made him uncomfortable but not nearly as much as when it turned inwards on himself. Looking at the much-handled note, Bjorn knew that the fault lay over all of them like fine snow but he was the only one caught in the deep drifts. Perhaps it was because he chose to be. He could not be sure and that corner of his mind laughed at his uncertainty.
All he knew was that he never gave her counterfeit emotion, never lied about his devotion. When he told her about the sun in her hair and the music in her laugh, the truth outweighed the metaphor. The words all meant the same to him, really. When he spoke of her smile, he was telling her of his devotion. Words were uncomfortable things, though, and he never felt they explained the ownership she had on his heart. He tried and he had believed so hard in his success.
He now wondered if she had hidden everything painful from him or if he had only heard what he wanted to hear. Perhaps she could not explain what he was not willing to understand. Saying the words and knowing them could span distances he had only dreamed of now, he thought. Now the note said it all and he read it, over and over, obsessively until he saw the halting lines of her words against his eyelids at night. She would not apologize for she was herself and he was... His mother's creature. This was her final goodbye. Do not follow. Do not mourn. Learn something from this.
He would learn and he had learned. This was a new lesson, reading between the lines until you found the center of pure, unvarnished truth. In a fortnight, he would be strong enough and he would search for her, the axis of his world. He would prove that he could listen and understand and he would stop talking of her hair and smile and instead speak of her strength and soul.
It never occurred to him to wonder if he was not still misunderstanding Idony's words.
World: GesMa
Characters: Bjorn
In the dark, quiet days following the note, Bjorn kept his own counsel. No one else shared his thoughts or knew the darkness that preyed on his mind. He carried it with him out of some masochistic sense of duty and penance combined. He often read it before he fell asleep and he slept a great number of hours. He knew his mother worried and that increased his guilt but, at the same time, a small, treacherous corner of his mind whispered that it served her right.
He did not like that corner of his mind. It made him uncomfortable but not nearly as much as when it turned inwards on himself. Looking at the much-handled note, Bjorn knew that the fault lay over all of them like fine snow but he was the only one caught in the deep drifts. Perhaps it was because he chose to be. He could not be sure and that corner of his mind laughed at his uncertainty.
All he knew was that he never gave her counterfeit emotion, never lied about his devotion. When he told her about the sun in her hair and the music in her laugh, the truth outweighed the metaphor. The words all meant the same to him, really. When he spoke of her smile, he was telling her of his devotion. Words were uncomfortable things, though, and he never felt they explained the ownership she had on his heart. He tried and he had believed so hard in his success.
He now wondered if she had hidden everything painful from him or if he had only heard what he wanted to hear. Perhaps she could not explain what he was not willing to understand. Saying the words and knowing them could span distances he had only dreamed of now, he thought. Now the note said it all and he read it, over and over, obsessively until he saw the halting lines of her words against his eyelids at night. She would not apologize for she was herself and he was... His mother's creature. This was her final goodbye. Do not follow. Do not mourn. Learn something from this.
He would learn and he had learned. This was a new lesson, reading between the lines until you found the center of pure, unvarnished truth. In a fortnight, he would be strong enough and he would search for her, the axis of his world. He would prove that he could listen and understand and he would stop talking of her hair and smile and instead speak of her strength and soul.
It never occurred to him to wonder if he was not still misunderstanding Idony's words.