But then again sometimes I get really sweet
So what does it mean if I tell you to go fuck yourself
Or if I say that you're beautiful to me
It's affection always,
You're gonna see it someday
My attention for you
Even if it's not what you need
Juggie
They say that love comes in a moment, it strikes like lightning and changes the world when your eyes meet hers across the room. It is a bald faced and manufactured lie of film and media if ever one was propagated on the unsuspecting masses. Even, somehow, our parents convinced themselves that their own moments were that same magical, edited noir moment with feet popping off the ground (absolutely not the best way to stand when you brace for a kiss anyway).
At least, if that is how love actually is, I hope I will never love Betty Cooper in such a superficial and fragile way, which compares a girl beyond such stifling things to pictures, film tricks and editing- fantasy and writing that can never be achieved in the dark confines of reality. I will hurt when Betty hurts, Protect her when she doesn't see something coming for her, and happily sacrifice my laptop if needed to defend her. I will think she is beautiful even if she is broken, hold her even when she has nothing to say, and stare her down even when she yells and throws things at me. I will take her away or build her a secret getaway, or I will let her go if she asks to be free.
These things build up over little moments, over a look here and there, a breakdown, the simple joys like navigating the social dichotomy of high school after a jock is murdered. They build up when someone never looks at you with pity, who never asks why you aren't having dinner with your family or about where Jellybean is right now. Love, if I am right, is you barest self all on its own without anything else around you defining you.
Which is exactly why I couldn't stop myself from kissing an imperfect angel like Betty Cooper when she thought she was crazy because her sister, and her mother, and everyone in her family was a veritable basket case. I only wish I could have told her more, commiserated more...
But its too hard to come straight out and say that I understand because I'm afraid I might become a mean, aggressive drunk on the people I love most like my father...
But somehow I doubt he loves anything more than vodka straight from the bottle and advil he takes like chewing gum. How he could make such a ridiculous choice like vodka over JB, a couch over mom, and the Serpents over me blows my mind in its upmost, but I don't really have a say over tthat, just a map of what choices can never satisfy a heart.
I had a moment with Betty, the only girl I've ever seen in my whole life. If there is anyone out there,
I ask them from the closet under the stairs- no, I demand, that I have many more moments with a beauty like her.
You hold me down in the best wayNo quarter from these chains that I've
Slept on my heart for a feeling
Why can't I let my demons out? Keep screaming into the pillow
Cause your taste still gets me stupid high
Oh glory, I'm a believer
Oh glory, I'm a troubler Wild horses, wild horses
Wild horses run faster
Betty
Diary,
I think I'm utterly lost right now. Polly has gone missing, been found, and now I'm organizing a home for her with no clue as to what is up or down. Then we found Jason's car, it was burned... and the next thing I know, Juggie is being taken out of the school by Sheriff Keller. Juggie, who kissed me in the middle of all this.
Why? Why the hell would Jughead Jones kiss a whackjob like me after he just saw how bonafide nutcase level 2,000 my whole family is? I'm certain we must all start our meds in the womb. Sad thing is that Baby Blossom might have the best chance of a normal life, if I can just find Polly a safe place.
And considering it's only third period and I have no chance of talking to Juggie to make sure he's okay for 45 minutes doesn't bode well for any of my notes. My head is spinning, and I think I need to just pass out for a solid week straight.
He could barely look at me when he left, FP didn't pick up any of my calls...
What kind of family does Jughead have that his dad wont return any calls when you say his son is in trouble?
And why did hearing Archie Andrews put me back in a hole where I'm not sure of anything? I need to figure out a way to ignore him, systematically block him out of every thought process I have. There's enough in Riverdale to keep my mind chasing it's tail without trying to keep track of Archie's revolving door of women; Ronnie, Grundy, Vanessa...
He's a black hole of kisses that I don't need.
No.
Archie.
Betty.
Cooper.
Stop.
This.
Now.
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. What's happening to Juggie now? Are we a thing? Who burned the car? Why the hell wont FP pick up his phone?
Time to get Archie, call his dad... and ditch in a way my parents wont find out. Lady troubles should do nicely. Mr. Andrews can come get me, my parents won't know, we can rescue Juggie, I can go all dark no stars on his Dad... then scream into my pillow while I figure out the series of events in the last week, drink ten cups of tea, get notes from Gretchen, not sleep, and catch up on homework.
I have a migraine.
Love,
Betty
AN: Hope you enjoyed, please drop a favorite, a review, and let me know how I'm doing! This is my first FF in a long time, I've been working on original content the last several years . Writing someone else's characters is how I started my writing, it feels good to go back to my roots and see how I've grown. The songs in here are Affection, by Cigarettes After Sex, and Wild Horses, by Bishop.