from a nightmare back in my own bed, with Chester's voice in my ear, telling me it's all a dream. The numbness is just the nightmare, and when I open my eyes I can feel again. More acutely than before, perhaps. Maybe the 24-hour loss of my sense of touch makes everything seem more...there.
Try as I might, I can't be angry at Tenebria. She's a bitter, jaded bitch, but if I had been through what she has, I would be too. She's lost everything she once held dear- her home, her family, and then Lucy. Her...friend? lover? sister? She never cleared that up. I was going to ask, but I made the mistake of trying to offer a little sympathy first. She, well, blew up at me. Seriously, she rounds on me and next thing I know I'm completely and utterly numb. I can't...I could see, and I could hear, but I couldn't touch or smell or taste. I felt...detached from myself, that's the only way I could describe it. I was dimly aware of being slumped against the wall and hearing myself scream and scream and scream and that's how she feels she entire time oh god
I'm afraid to go to sleep because I know I'll dream about the numbness.
I can't be angry with her. She's been through a lot and she tried to cut herself off from it and from what I've seen it worked a little too well.
Here's some advice. Pain sucks, yes. Sometimes you feel like you can't go any further. But with the capacity to feel pain also comes the capacity to feel happy, elated even, to fall in love with a person or place or idea, to trust someone with everything, to look at your life and the way you're living it and feel content at a job worth doing that's being done well. All the cuts, scrapes, and heartbreak, all the humiliation is worth it for singing stupid love songs when you're in the house by yourself, grabbing a friend on the spur of the moment and going off to do something fun, dancing like nobody's watching even when everyone is, that feeling of accomplishment when you've done something worthwhile.
Also, life is not written in stone. There's no such thing as fate, or destiny. It's a bunch of random events that just happen. I don't believe in fate, or destiny, or a God. Things just happen. Sometimes bad, sometimes good, and they set off whole chain reactions of events that only happened because you were in the right place at the right time. That's what's wonderful about it. There's no meaning to life. You can impose your own meaning, and live life according to it.
Oh my god, this post sounds utterly sane even though I'm anything but. Thank god for the backspace key. And Chester. I...I almost thought he might not be able to do it, but he did, somehow. Literally, he just burst in brandishing a cricket bat covered in barbed wire in one hand and a can of mace in the other, spattered in blood and looking like someone had put him in a tumble drier. It was possibly the most surprised I have ever been in my life.
BLUGH it's 4am and I think I've calmed down (fucking nightmares) enough to sleep and Chester's shoulder looks reallyreallyreally comfy and ugh I'm going to go make up for the 48 hours + I went without sleep.