Gossamer Heart
- Quote
- Posted: Wed, 08 Feb 2012 01:17:42 +0000
So..Yeah. I wrote this a few days ago, but I've been re-reading it over and over trying to get it right. I'm mostly satisfied, but I could really use some outside eyes. I haven't written in awhile for various reasons, so I feel like it isn't up to the standard I've come to expect from myself. Be as critical as you like, but please be polite.
More rain. It must have nearly been pouring for nearly a week straight now – but, really, I don’t mind all that much. The rain keeps me inside, keeps my mind relatively clear. Sometimes, sunshine confuses me. When the sun is out, people are out, and when people are out, things get complicated. I can’t help but be grateful for the rain right now because if ever I needed thinking space, I need it now.
My name is Liza. Well, Eliza, but nobody calls me that – Liza to all my friends, Eli to my family. I turned 21 last year, and have been enjoying the perks of being of age thoroughly over the last six months or so. Unfortunately, most of those perks (mainly the legal consumption of alcohol, nightclubs, the sudden acceptability of wearing incredibly short and tight dresses, etc) increase the amount of drama in your life exponentially. See, everyone has this set of rules – an individual moral code that they live by. Sometimes you share them with people, sometimes they’re uniquely yours…But for some reason, alcohol always blurs the boundaries. You find yourself doing things that you never thought you would, that you even looked down on other people for doing.
That had never really happened to me, until now.
Don’t get me wrong – I’ve been drunk, so drunk that I’ve upchucked my insides a few times – but I had never woken up completely tearing myself to pieces. Dissecting my actions, reprimanding myself, doubting that I was that girl, despite the evidence lying next to me in the bed. Even that, that he is there, makes disbelief reel through my mind. That I am there, with him, in his house, his room, his bed, with him sleeping next to me, holding my hand. Despite the guilt I can feel gnawing at my stomach, I don’t want to move. Don’t want to risk waking him, and for this to be over – because I know it isn’t going to last as soon as he notices the daylight and his hand is under his head instead of locked around mine.
Note: This looks a lot shorter here than it did in MS Word...haha.