a/n: random story I felt like writing. Inspired by A blog entrY AND A faVourite Author of mine.
Do you know the feeling where you can't stop thinking about things that you have lost (stop thinking of it, of him) and the fantasies about when you'll find them again, and how everything will be the same as before. And when you know things are changing, but you don't when them to change, but you want to be THERE, the time when he comes back (with him). Like when everything that you had, the wall you had built (so strong and colourful and PERFECT and you) has come tumbling down, and know there is nothing left. When you have to start again, fast, coz someone might see that your wall is non-existent.
Y'know that feeling, when it feels like everything might -maybe, just maybe- be ok again. When you have managed to chase all those memories back into their little box that you're gonna lock up and bury somewhere then burn the key and plant flowers over the spot where they're buried. When everything feels like you could forget, like you could rebuild the little (big, big, BIG) whole in the wall.
Y'know when that little box just refuses to leave you alone and that little key just refuses to burn. When all that hard work you have put in to looking like you feel OK inside comes tumbling down with just a little puff of wind and the bricks that have just fallen over land on the box, and let the stupid memories of everything (him) that you wanted to forget about fly around and around and poke you until you give in and fall down completely into the wreck of your little wall.
Y'know how it feels restarting from not quite the beginning again, trying to build the wall carefully, so that when the wind blows it doesn't come toppling down quite as fast as before. But you're also trying to rebuild the wall fast coz there's someone who you want to think that you're completely normal. Someone you care about that's not HIM. Someone you hope cares about you, but treats you like everyone else. Someone who makes those annoying pokey memories get a little bit tired. Maybe they stop and listen to him to, he's just that fabulous.
You are slowly (and you'd probably expect steadily) but unsteadily rebuilding the wall, and those memories are still flying around and poking you and pulling you away from your job. Rebuilding. You really are going to have to do something about them someday, maybe build another box, maybe be around your new friend so much that they stop for a little while, maybe just ignore them and hope they go away while you are building your wall.
HE isn't HIM anymore. HE has faded into just a simple he. You have a new HIM, don't you? He makes you feel like dancing, and talking about theories about the meaning of the universe and generally being yourself. The llamas should dance like Adam. That would be fun. Sometimes you contemplate asking him to help rebuild your wall. He'd probably love to help-and he could get his theories to fight your little little little (little) memories. NO. He can't help you. He has his own wall that's probably less of a wall and more of a window, but still. He probably doesn't even like you. Story of your life.
Your wall is completely finished. Now you have to figure out whether to paint it really well, or to arrange your thoughts behind it so you can knock it down completely and let everyone see. Then you'd be completely yourself- but who are you? You've spent all this time building a wall only to not know what to paint onto it. It could be anything. It could be different for different people. Then people would call you two-faced, wouldn't they? It's not two-faced-ness, it's just you. You decide to do nothing, to let your wall paint itself, maybe the gremlins and little faeries you talk about will help and maybe, just maybe it will be strong and beautiful and YOU.
r&r?