He's here with me, an' it's jus' us, an' I'm happy.
These las' few months have been hard on all of us, but fo' him it's been much worse. I watch his face, an' I can see the lines etched into it. Most weren' there when I first met him. Hell, sometimes it seems most of them weren' there las' week.
He's sitting wi' his eyes closed, leanin' against the wall of an old factory we jus' found. Tha's why I can look at him like this, in peace. Study him. I'd never dare to if he weren' so relaxed. It's usually him lookin' at me wi' that intense scrutiny, that cop look he gets. I both hate and crave that attention.
Hate it cos he usually does it when I've done something he don't like, an' I always fear he'll shout at me, when he looks like that. I don't even know why I think that. He's never shouted at me so far. It's jus' stuck so deep in me, that fear of authority.
And I crave his attention cos I want him, I need him, t'think well of me. Actually, it's more'n that. I need him. There, 've said it, at leas' t'myself. I crave Rick Grimes. His body, his mind, his soul. I crave his touch, his gaze on me, I crave his love. Cos tha's what I'm... in love. But it'll never do. This redneck, to this cop, can never be more'n a friend. I think he's that now, at least. A friend. An ally. We have t'be, else we have nobody.
I know he needs me, they all do. Cos we're no longer safely at t'farm. We're out in t'open. Vulnerable. They need the muscle, an' they need someone t'feed them. An' I give 'em both. I know I don' have to. I know I could survive on me own, maybe even better, with less fuss. But it's too late for that. 'm used t'it now, havin' them around, sharin' a campfire with them. 'm lonely when I go out on a hunt.
Oh I enjoy it, the loneliness. But only cos there's somewhere I know I'll return to, after. Other people, breathin', talkin'. Yeah, even th'constant chattering I miss. Cos it means they're still alive, still hopin'.
And I'd miss him. So much so, jus' the thought of it makes me feel sick.
Sick, there it is again. It's actually much better now, I hardly feel like throwin' up at all these days. It got real bad, fo' a bit, on the farm. I felt so nauseous all the time, I actually welcomed that feeling of pressure at th' back of m'throat, that roiling sensation in m'gut that meant I'd vomit any sec. Pukin' made it less fo' a while, that damn feelin' of helplessness. It got so tha' I'd sometimes make m'self be sick on purpose, jus' to feel less shitty fo' a bit. Course I didn' tell anyone, 's such a lil girl thing t'do. Put ya finger down ya throat, make yaself puke fo' attention.
I think he suspected somethin' was goin' on, tho. Tha's mostly why I stopped forcin' it. I didn' wan' his eyes on me like that, all disappointed like. Suspicious. Thought he'd call me on it, fo' a while. Tha' would've been awful. After a while it just faded. Events caught up wi' us and I was distracted, an' busy.
And tired, fuck 'm tired. Out here, with no protection, wi' no fences between us'n them, and no other warnin' system but our eyes and ears, sleep's a luxury, even more so, some days, 'n food an' clean water. When it's jus' me, going out on m'own, it's fine. I don' worry much about getting' bit, or runnin' out of food, or findin' somewhere safe t'sleep.
But wi' a group, none of them things're easy. And wi' a group tha' includes a pregnant woman and a child 's impossible t'shut down the worry, even when we're somewhere safe enough, and quiet enough, t'have a proper night's sleep.
I don' remember when it started that I had trouble sleepin', but it was after we'd left the farm. It's not that I can' fall asleep, neither. I do, often before 'm even lyin' down properly, once or twice standin' up, 'm sure. But stayin' asleep, that's the problem. I wake up, almost every time, after an hour, at most two, with a start, heart hammerin' like mad.
First I thought somethin' around me must be wakin' me up, or that I was having nightmares. But I don' think so now. I jus' wake up, and m'brain is on full alert right away, and I can' go back t'sleep all night. Cos my brain gets into it right 'way, all that shit that's goin' down, all the stuff tha's worryin' me.
And I start thinkin' 'bout Rick, every time. How worried he is, wonder how he's copin', havin' t'carry so much more'n any of us, an' how that load gets heavier and heavier every day. I think about how I could help, an' then I turn all them things I wanna say over'n over in m'head. I never manage t'say any of 'em, but that don' matter, m'brain insists on doin' this, night after night.
Ruminatin', Merle'd call it, and scoff.
All this means 'm not quite m'self sometimes, an' I think Rick's noticed it, too. 'm not sure I have any idea how t'make it stop. Only thing I've been able t'come up with is try an' get sleep at other times. I don' really have a choice, often, anyway. I jus' fall asleep when I stop, whatever the situation.
Car journeys are good for that, I've found. I don' like drivin' anyway, so whenever t'others don' insist I get behind the wheel I settle in the back and have a nap. I've a feelin' Rick's told them not t'make me drive. And when he's drivin' I somehow always end up next t'him in the passenger seat. He'll look at me an' smile when we get in, like he's tellin' me to go t'sleep if I want. That's the best sleep 've had in weeks.
'm still watchin' him, by the way. He's still got his eyes closed an' for the first time in like forever he seems relaxed. 'm sure he's not asleep. Jus' enjoying the bit of sun we're getting' today, through that restless cloud cover. It's not too cold, either, no wind, no rain or snow for a few days now. Maybe winter is finally endin'.
'm glad he's resting, that he has a chance to jus' be, for a bit. We've caught enough squirrels to get by for a lil while, anything else now's a bonus. We'll check the buildings behind us, but there's no rush. The longer were out, the better. 't helps Rick get some of his balance back, an' some patience with us all, especially Lori. They're not good, I know. We all know it, but I try not t'think about it too much cos it's scary. When they fight Rick is scary, an' it makes the group anxious.
Instead, I think about him some more. How nice it'd feel if he'd touch me, with those strong hands, those fingers which are no longer smooth an' manicured, like when I met him. I know they can be gentle, I see it when he deals with Carl, or when he an' Lori're havin' a good day. When his fingers brush my hands or my arms by accident, or when he claps me on the shoulder like he sometimes does when he's pleased, I feel goosebumps all up an' down m'spine. It's a great feeling.
I also think about his lips, an' how I love t'see him smile. It doesn' happen nearly as often as I'd like, there's not much t'smile about, usually. But when he does he lights up the whole room with it. An' when he smiles at me… but I can hardly think 'bout that, cos it gives me a whole lotta feelings, an' if I let them take hold now I'll be useless for th'rest of the day. 'm not gonna go into detail, but that particular fantasy involves him doing more'n just smile. Jus' thinkin' 'bout that makes me grin a bit.
And his eyes, if I think about them too much 'm in trouble, too. They are blue, like mine, an' yet totally different. He can express things with his eyes other people need their whole body for. He can make people back off jus' by lookin' at'em, an' he can scare the living shit outta anyone with that if he cares to.
But when he's in a certain mood his eyes are the most gentle thing 'bout him. 've seen it, have felt that look on me. Rick's best at spotting when I'm tense an' ready t'bolt, and he'll jus' look at me then, not stare like he does when he's suspicious, but jus' look, an' his eyes will be so kind, an' so focused, like all he sees is me, like he knows what goes on inside m'head. And with his eyes he'll tell me that there's nothing t'worry about, and I'll feel myself calm down, even if I don' want t'.
's a good feeling, when he's concentratin' jus' on you cos he feels you need him t'be there, at that moment.
I don' always like bein' helped, or taken special notice of, or given privileges, or bein' fussed over. When I wasn' so good after Sophia I didn' want Rick t'know, or any of'em. But the truth is, Rick often knows how t'help, how t'make me feel better, even when I don' want the fussin'. I jus' can' figure out how t'ask for it, that's the trouble.
It doesn' always work. Sometimes 's just too much, him wanting t'know everything, needing to understand where m'head's at. But how to tell him that without making him feel bad, an' that I still appreciate his concern, I've not worked out yet either. 've upset him plenty by being short with him when all he wanted t'do was t'help. 'm jus' not so good wi' people.
But he's helped, and the others too. 'm easier round them all than 've ever been round people. An' in my book that's something.
Sittin' here in the sunshine, lettin' it warm me better'n any fire can, musing 'bout Rick and our life has made me sleepy. 've had another bad night, an' since we're almost out of gas we're not gonna be drivin' anywhere today. 'm feeling relaxed and safe with Rick by my side. I don' wanna disturb him yet. My eyes are starting t'fall closed. I'll just rest'em for a bit. There's no danger here right now. Jus' a few minutes, soak up the sun while we can…
