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Jan. 21st, 2004 10:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
turpsSome days you just want to write.
Misery curled in Chris’ belly, hot and tight, spreading to every inch of his body. He felt sick, tears pricking at his eyes as he sat staring into space. Sometimes he wondered where it had all gone so wrong, when he’d lost control so completely and become a passenger in his own life.
He wanted to talk, but his friends had heard it all before, every poisoned word and self loathing sentence. He couldn’t keep saying the same things, they got tired, sick of offering the same advice that was always ignored.
It didn’t stop the need to talk, to try and explain even though he always failed, becoming frustrated he couldn’t drag his feelings out of his head and change them into solid words. Words could be changed. Added to, manipulated and deleted until they were correct. Feelings could not.
It started small. Wanting to stay in, to hide behind high walls and locked gates, drapes closed against the sun. His sleep patterns screwed, Chris would wander his house at night, tidying cupboards at two am, watching late night TV squashed in the corner of his huge couch. The mornings passed in a haze of tiredness and coffee became his staple food.
Caller display was his best friend. Only calls from certain people were answered and even then only sometimes. He was becoming cut off and shuttered, a pale shadow of the man he’d been and couldn’t do anything to stop the colour leeching away.
Chris wanted to dig inside of himself, pull out every bad thought and throw them away. Could imagine ribbons of darkness fluttering in the breeze, instead they stayed inside him, coiled and dangerous, threatening to suffocate him when he let down his guard.
When he was out it was better. The proximity of others kept the sadness away and he’d smile as JC curled against him, or Lance discussed his latest party. Joey could banish shadows with his smile, and Justin was…Justin was just Justin. Superstar and friend all mixed in one perfect shiny package.
When they were close, Chris could smile, facing the world head on, buffered by people who loved him. When he was alone all he could do was survive, pushing the darkness away and hope one day it didn’t swallow him whole.
Misery curled in Chris’ belly, hot and tight, spreading to every inch of his body. He felt sick, tears pricking at his eyes as he sat staring into space. Sometimes he wondered where it had all gone so wrong, when he’d lost control so completely and become a passenger in his own life.
He wanted to talk, but his friends had heard it all before, every poisoned word and self loathing sentence. He couldn’t keep saying the same things, they got tired, sick of offering the same advice that was always ignored.
It didn’t stop the need to talk, to try and explain even though he always failed, becoming frustrated he couldn’t drag his feelings out of his head and change them into solid words. Words could be changed. Added to, manipulated and deleted until they were correct. Feelings could not.
It started small. Wanting to stay in, to hide behind high walls and locked gates, drapes closed against the sun. His sleep patterns screwed, Chris would wander his house at night, tidying cupboards at two am, watching late night TV squashed in the corner of his huge couch. The mornings passed in a haze of tiredness and coffee became his staple food.
Caller display was his best friend. Only calls from certain people were answered and even then only sometimes. He was becoming cut off and shuttered, a pale shadow of the man he’d been and couldn’t do anything to stop the colour leeching away.
Chris wanted to dig inside of himself, pull out every bad thought and throw them away. Could imagine ribbons of darkness fluttering in the breeze, instead they stayed inside him, coiled and dangerous, threatening to suffocate him when he let down his guard.
When he was out it was better. The proximity of others kept the sadness away and he’d smile as JC curled against him, or Lance discussed his latest party. Joey could banish shadows with his smile, and Justin was…Justin was just Justin. Superstar and friend all mixed in one perfect shiny package.
When they were close, Chris could smile, facing the world head on, buffered by people who loved him. When he was alone all he could do was survive, pushing the darkness away and hope one day it didn’t swallow him whole.
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Date: 2004-01-21 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 04:47 am (UTC)It was just one of those spur of the moment needed to be written things. Poor Chris, I do hurt him so.
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Date: 2004-01-21 06:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 09:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 07:12 am (UTC)He needs to be made better! TrickC or Choey or Trickyfish or even Timbertrick, so he's not alone and the badness goes away!
:(
Poor Chris!
(this was really well done, btw. Tug those heartstrings!)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 09:27 am (UTC)I had to lol at your list there, or even Timbertrick, poor Justin *g*
But yeah, he does need to be made better.
*pets Chris*
And I wrote it well too, yay!