Prompt 60: Starter Sentence and Prompt 47: Memories
Prompt: "You could compare it to echoes."
A/N: More Maedhros angst centered around our red haired fëanorian missing Fingon. I need to stop writing this topic. *grins shamelessly* I really don't think I can though. It's too much fun. *runs away cackling evilly*
You could compare it to echoes. Memories and words bouncing around in an enormous cavern. Vala, I sound like some star struck poet. Let me...rephrase...that. Some memories and conversations are filling up my head, leaving no room for new ones.
I'm just blindly stumbling through life now, barely remembering an event the day after it takes place. And I'm talking like a poet again. Some poet who has never experienced anything outside his little pretend world.
Come to think about it, I wish that wasn't the case. A poet madly in love for whom the object of their affections still draws breath. I wish I could say the same for myself. Fingon is dead and there is no use pretending that he isn't.
Ignoring the truth and telling myself it is a lie will not change anything no matter how hard I wish it would.
A/N: And I'm pretty sure this is classified as 'Russingon' due to the line that states: "A poet madly in love for whom the object of their affections still draws breath...Fingon is dead..." ...yeah... :)