Post by CORA on May 13, 2011 18:49:01 GMT -5
annabelle marie hurley
twenty one. drawing blanks/delirium. vocals. sierra kusterbeck.[/center]
[/size]" everyone has their demons.
no matter the person or situation or past or future, everyone has something that they are hiding. something they are running from. nothing is ever perfect. in every place there are ten million things that can go wrong, and one of them is bound to. and when that thing goes wrong - if it's the right thing... or well, absolute worst - you don't forget it. and it can snowball, too. then it's a secret. maybe it's not a secret; maybe it's a huge, humiliating thing. and that's your demon. you can never get rid of it because it claws at your throat and makes you feel like you're choking. that's a demon. do you recognize it now?
i'm sure mine are worse than most. does that sentence make me not crazy then? isn't that the whole catch twenty two? i'm not really making sense too much, anymore. have you ever said things and wished that you could delete them as soon as you said them? my whole life is like that. i can't think of anything i've said that has been completely right or honest except for when i tell denny i love him. besides that i always get things wrong. always get things wrong. i used to say that i was wrong all the time, incessantly, constantly, but then denny told me i shouldn't say that, so i stopped. i still think it. is it pathetic that i stopped just because he wanted me to? i can't help it. recently, everything, it's been because of denny. i don't know the difference between right and wrong anymore. i know a sense of normalcy and a sense of time. i am aware of a sense of rhythms; rhythms that tell me where to go, rhythms that define routines. that isn't really time though, that's denny. he is my good and bad. but he is happy and i feel lost. god, i don't want to do anything.
i am dying. breathing is an equivalent of puking up blood. this city wasn't built for me and it makes me feel sallow and pale. spending time here makes me feel like i'm dripping away and it makes me tired, so so tired. i never wanted to be in the city. that's never want i wanted to do because the city isn't for me. i can't see things and i suffocate and i don't like being stuck here. denny knows that. he knows me better... better than anything. and i feel so bad for him. he's so stuck with me and i'm too selfish to let him know what a terrible thing that is. maybe it's so stupid but he's the only thing i have right now. he's my one island in this stupid sea and salvation and all that extremely sappy shit that i never could have imagined myself thinking or saying. but he is that. and it's stupid... but it's not. i mean, i hate that i somehow feel embarrassed about it, but i think a pretty good reason is i don't like thinking about how we are. i like feeling it. i don't like explaining it because this kind of situation is just for us and i don't want to share it with anyone. but then i start to feel bad again, in sticky moods that anchor me to the floor of negativity, and i feel horrible for him all over again.
i feel bad because i just... i let him down. i don't let him do things and he's horribly constrained because of me. when we got home that day i felt like i was about to puke, and my arms wrapped around my stomach. when i closed my eyes, i could remember his arms picking me up from bed months earlier and remembered when they pulled me away and just all the blood and it sucked. and i just thought that it happened again. i just thought when will things ever be right? we were so excited. work was going good for denny and i felt healthy for once in my life and we were so happy. and then the appointment came and i heard him and my whole life just stopped. i paled. i grabbed denny's hands because i actually thought about going through with the pregnancy. they said that the baby probably wouldn't survive and i would have to get things removed and go through surgeries and it would be such a sticky mess. but that was my second chance and it was gone. gone and i just let it go. when we got home i just went to bed and laid down. i didn't get up for a week. i just closed my eyes and nearly willed myself to not breathe. that seemed so much easier than coming to the realization that i'd lost something that i had wanted more than anything since denny. i wouldn't do anything. i didn't have strength to even lift my arms to pull myself against him at night. i couldn't talk. i didn't want to do anything but stop everything. eventually, i started to move. eventually, i would eat if denny made me - eating had never really been my strong point. soon i felt better and i would talk sometimes to denny. i'd smile if he made me, and i missed him when he was gone. i always missed him so much when he was gone. i had leo to keep me company but he was a dog. he was no denny. denver would wrap me in his arms at night and whisper stories to me and make me feel better. i mean, better, but not the best. that was twice now.
are there even such things as third chances?
and now, now i'm going crazy. i mean, that goes back to the whole catch twenty two, but i can nearly feel it. i can nearly feel myself getting high and low and my head will hurt and then feel better. that eating insecurity is back. i spend every moment i can with him and i probably suffocating him. if he leaves me... there's nothing. nothing ever ever ever. because this wasn't even supposed to be here. i was annie and i was never supposed to fall in love. eventually i would fall off the face of the earth. but denny fell in love with me. he still is. and i don't understand it but i'm selfish and i don't question it because i can't lose him. there would be nothing for me. nothing but an eating loneliness. i'm so close to crazy if i aren't already. my head hurts.
i'm cautious everywhere i go. i'm worried. i need to be touching denny every second to make sure he's substantial and real, that i didn't ust imagine everything great that has gone on between us. i love abby, and i love evan, but i find it hard to imagine what i would do without him. it's like asking me to think about what i could do without forests. i'm a country kid at heart. annabelle, see? my daddy was a southern man. i like magnolias, and i like dogwoods, and i don't like this prickly generic trees, and skyscrapers that scrape so high the sky bleeds and the smells hurt. it's impossible to be here, and i want nothing to do with it. "
cora. like four years. sixteen. psycho bitch.