Stuck
Words don't flow out for me. No, they only come when I think hard about what it is that I'm actually feeling. And if I don't think, I'm left with a notebook full of incoherent drabbles – of uncertain hopes, blind hopes. And then blunt realizations.
What can this piece of paper do for me anymore? How can I talk to it? How the hell do I address my own thoughts when I already know that to be knee-deep in shit become worse when you realize that the path back has been erased for you?
Writing used to be easier. I gave it up, when I gave myself up. And now I'm left hole-like, with no depth. Down – not spiraling – just floating. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. I'm a slut. Is that all I know anymore?
I've decided, that even if you're born with all the luxuries in the world, things will go wrong for you at a point.
The question is : Can I be bothered to make them right again?
-R.
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Edward could see blue lights revolving, orange birds flying towards him. He could feel cold wind hitting his shoulders and his torso, pushing him back. That's what was happening – he couldn't go forward.
Then he saw it, a large white blob , slowly forming into a long horizontal line. He saw a milky white circle followed by a long lean body, naked and nude in all it's glory. Wild brown hair spread out from the top and he remembered. How could he forget those strands of hair which had, unbeknownst to him, taunted him?
"You haven't seen enough. You haven't seen enough." A whisper sounded in his ear, and the face came nearer - a white, chiseled wax doll-like face, the seduction - the temptation. It was like sticks of metal were hitting each other with no way to stop, nails were scratching each other.
But it ended. The face went away and the body couldn't be seen. A soft lullaby started to play..in the background of Edward's thoughts.
"Bella?" He tried to shout but he could only murmur her name.
"What do you want?" asked a scathing voice, high pitched and evidently irritated.
"You can't have me," A soft, sweet voice assured him.
"But you can try." A deep voice boomed in his ears, louder than any of the previous sweet, mischievous sounds that had reverberated, penetrated his body, glazed his eyes.
He woke up with a jerk, his mouth slightly open and sadly enough, a trail of saliva drooling down his chin. The lights were dimmed, and the air was hot but Edward could still lay a cool hand on his furrowed brow. The dream…or rather, that Motion Picture his brain had just conjured for him, had eradicated his senses. He felt numb, almost. What kind of feelings and emotions were coming out of his stiff mindset?
The strings had been loosened, it seemed. Even though much pressure hadn't been thrusted on them at all, and force was avoided – Edward could still believe that he had fallen in love. He didn't need any stolen glances, blushes creeping up his cheeks, filmy quips – dates, roses and shaking lips, trembling fingers, declarations. How did any of that matter? What need is there for such a sentimental, strong love when your brain could be clouded over by the mere touch of the tip of her finger on yours?
Conversation? Who needs that when you can enjoy the silence?
Descriptions? Why do you need to describe something so simple, so uncomplicated?
They had sat on that burnt orange piano stool and seen each others' souls, heard each others' heartbeats and slowly fallen into a trance. This was called the fall. This was the inevitable fall when you came to know someone so similar to you, someone you didn't need to talk to to understand.
How unbelievable it sounded. Even Edward's old, wise head found it so utterly unbelievable, but sometimes, he guessed, you just had to believe what sounded like the impossible; The contrived – the conveniently imagined.
A/N: It's really been ages since I've updated this story. Severe writer's block maybe, or just disinterest. I don't know, but it took me a while to get this together, and sadly enough – this much thought-over chapter is the shortest in the story, and with nothing but serious thoughts – feelings and perhaps – boring explanations to things instead of any dialogues. Well, this is it. I think it's the most revealing about the Prime Central of the story, which is of course, Bella and Edward's unfinished love story.
Also, one Great thanks to an awesome reviewer, chele the original, who really gave me the final boost I needed when I was going through my inbox and read her reviews again. Thanks a lot! I love hearing everyone's opinions, and those ones were Much appreciated.