So, I was feeling really inspired for some reason, and instead of doing what I should be doing finishing a commission I decided to write this little thing!
it's not the best, I don't claim to be a writer, bud I'd love some opinions on it? If it seems interesting or not and such :D
So, I was feeling really inspired for some reason, and instead of doing what I should be doing finishing a commission I decided to write this little thing!
it's not the best, I don't claim to be a writer, bud I'd love some opinions on it? If it seems interesting or not and such :D
Please poke :D
Wishlist time
Waking up was a drag, everything was a drag now-a-days. It didn't really matter if it was simple things such as brushing my teeth, or cleaning the house. Everything was a drag. Admittedly, cleaning the house always has; and probably always will, be a drag. But that's besides the point. Everything was a chor. Waking up, or to walking to the toilet. Even sitting up was sometimes too much.
And i didn't know how to fix it, did not know if i wanted to.
Withering away in bed seemed better than any other alternative, dying seemed better than any other alternative.
Honestly, it wasn't healthy thinking like this. I knew it wasn't, but i couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.
Everything was a drag.
They told me several times to get over it, sh*t happens and it would happen eventually anyway. I didn't listen, couldnt listen.
It's not like i can blame them, or myself for this. I can't blame anything.
I think that's what made this so hard. Not being able to blame anything. Or blaming the whole world. Both were equally bad. Equally unsatisfying.
So i stayed in bed, doing nothing of worth, wasting my potential. That's at least what they said. Didn't bother to correct them. I didn't have any potential, not anymore.
Not since she died. She was my everything, the one that kept me going. The one that kept me alive. At least mentally.
I wasn't always like this, i used to be a somewhat optimistic person, but when i met her, i was at my best. I couldn't be better. We both couldn't. She was always striving for perfection and i was a uncut diamond, a diamond she couldn't refrain herself from refining.
And i let her. Because i loved her, i grew to. Spending so much time with one person usually meant you started liking each other, if you didn't end up hating each other instead.
She was so much but also nothing. I made up for her nothingness and we completed each other. I wouldn't expect anyone else to understand what it was like, i was her ying to her yang and she was mine. We were soulmates, there's no other way to explain it. The perfect pair.
But we weren't perfect. At least she wasn't, as much as i'd like to believe so. She refined me and made me the best, the most clean cut and polished diamond. No one was better, no one still isn't. A diamond cannot wither away as much as i'd like to do so. But she could, she was a rose, a red one. The most beautiful and splendid rose. She wasn't defenseless, she had her thorns. But as all living matter, she had to die.
And that's fine, i could accept that, i could accept her dying when her time was up, or going out in a blaze; she always talked about how she’s like to die in battle against a worthy opponent. Protecting her friends and family. Protecting me.
But she didn't.
And it makes me so mad, she didn't get that single most precious wish.
Because life didn't mean it so.
She died in bed, sick with a tumor. That's what they called it at least. An abnormal growth in her brain. The doctors couldn't do anything about it. It was too late. It was discovered too late.
No matter how powerful i’d gotten, no matter how much magic i had, there was nothing i could do to stop my red rose from withering.
And now the world refused to let me do the same. I couldn't die, no matter how much i wanted. No matter how much i tried. And believe me i have. But nothing worked.
She made my skin too hard, my powers too strong. She refined her diamond a little bit too good.
And now i'm stuck here, with nothing better to do than sleep and wait for death that i know will never embrace me.
Waking up was a drag, everything was a drag now-a-days. It didn't really matter if it was simple things such as brushing my teeth, or cleaning the house. Everything was a drag. Admittedly, cleaning the house always has; and probably always will, be a drag. But that's besides the point. Everything was a chor. Waking up, or to walking to the toilet. Even sitting up was sometimes too much.
And i didn't know how to fix it, did not know if i wanted to.
Withering away in bed seemed better than any other alternative, dying seemed better than any other alternative.
Honestly, it wasn't healthy thinking like this. I knew it wasn't, but i couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.
Everything was a drag.
They told me several times to get over it, sh*t happens and it would happen eventually anyway. I didn't listen, couldnt listen.
It's not like i can blame them, or myself for this. I can't blame anything.
I think that's what made this so hard. Not being able to blame anything. Or blaming the whole world. Both were equally bad. Equally unsatisfying.
So i stayed in bed, doing nothing of worth, wasting my potential. That's at least what they said. Didn't bother to correct them. I didn't have any potential, not anymore.
Not since she died. She was my everything, the one that kept me going. The one that kept me alive. At least mentally.
I wasn't always like this, i used to be a somewhat optimistic person, but when i met her, i was at my best. I couldn't be better. We both couldn't. She was always striving for perfection and i was a uncut diamond, a diamond she couldn't refrain herself from refining.
And i let her. Because i loved her, i grew to. Spending so much time with one person usually meant you started liking each other, if you didn't end up hating each other instead.
She was so much but also nothing. I made up for her nothingness and we completed each other. I wouldn't expect anyone else to understand what it was like, i was her ying to her yang and she was mine. We were soulmates, there's no other way to explain it. The perfect pair.
But we weren't perfect. At least she wasn't, as much as i'd like to believe so. She refined me and made me the best, the most clean cut and polished diamond. No one was better, no one still isn't. A diamond cannot wither away as much as i'd like to do so. But she could, she was a rose, a red one. The most beautiful and splendid rose. She wasn't defenseless, she had her thorns. But as all living matter, she had to die.
And that's fine, i could accept that, i could accept her dying when her time was up, or going out in a blaze; she always talked about how she’s like to die in battle against a worthy opponent. Protecting her friends and family. Protecting me.
But she didn't.
And it makes me so mad, she didn't get that single most precious wish.
Because life didn't mean it so.
She died in bed, sick with a tumor. That's what they called it at least. An abnormal growth in her brain. The doctors couldn't do anything about it. It was too late. It was discovered too late.
No matter how powerful i’d gotten, no matter how much magic i had, there was nothing i could do to stop my red rose from withering.
And now the world refused to let me do the same. I couldn't die, no matter how much i wanted. No matter how much i tried. And believe me i have. But nothing worked.
She made my skin too hard, my powers too strong. She refined her diamond a little bit too good.
And now i'm stuck here, with nothing better to do than sleep and wait for death that i know will never embrace me.
Please poke :D
Wishlist time
