"You know when you start thinking about the world and its slow proxy wars in the words that are spoken across by other people, you freak the shit out.” Was spoken by Julian during lunch, as my mind kept racing, galloping through the day to turn into days.
“I think there’s a lot of things to freak the shit out.” I don’t hold, muttering as even Thom and Jonny turn to look at me and I stop briefly at Thom. I had barely even spoken to them, we all realize that nothing can be done and our dialogues are brief, we are taught that we mean nothing, that all is worthless and in the end of the day it is solely countries which fight among themselves and we are as thoughtful as someone’s pinkie, now the ship may be an elbow, but that would be it and solely. “Everything is a puzzle and we happen to be pawns.”
I speak far too slowly and I keep looking at the mug of coffee in front of me, which is far too hot to be drank, so all I do is trace my fingers down. I barely even know them and of course there is no desire from me and from them to know me.
It would be suspicious to even send off any of them and I wonder upon who would my hammer fall, who would I even be able-
The day goes on, I even lay on the bunk bed, as if preparing myself to zone out entirely and I know that all days will be the same, that I wouldn’t surely get the rush of thinking that solely hours were left from just looking at Hince and actually fucking Jamie, but then even throughout the day I could catch myself looking at him that even once he raised his voice and told me to fuck off and mop the decks, that night I had fucked him harder, make him moan heavier against my mouth-
And everything seems to be shattering-
I don’t even care when Miles opens a storage room and yanks me in, would it be the same, as when I had walked into Jamie to let him fuck me, instead I speak against Miles’ lips, as if the word were Jamie’s and I wonder if my meaning is to be a metaphor towards their love which seems to have destructed both of them, only Miles seems to be the victim and the culprit, like someone abusing themselves on purpose, a form of slow malicious torture.
“Miles, I don’t love you. It’s not even that I have to make up my mind. I did, you didn’t.” And he just stops and I realize how much shattered I had been the whole day, not to notice the light gray hairs on his left temple and I wonder how many destructive thoughts have gone through his head, instead he sighs and slides down and I look at all the ropes, the boxes all sealed with things written across in markers and I just slide besides him.
Maybe those who can’t have sex with you, desire something platonic because they think you don’t need consent for it?
It seems to be the case.
Miles doesn’t care and takes out a cigarette, lighting it and giving it to me, as I refuse and he just doesn’t even look back at me, dragging it back to himself and mechanically breathing in.
I wanted to break my hand against the last coffee mug, because pain wouldn’t null me, but it would surely alter my view and I wonder how far does my depression stretch and if it were the waves of the ocean how long would it be until I would fully drown? How far would it be until I would fully give up and my heart would fail? And how long would the blood even trickle down and I wondered how come my head seemed to be fizz around that I couldn’t even properly concentrate on the fact that Miles had leaned towards me, I didn’t seem to care about anything besides the lack of Jamie’s touch and nothing seemed to numb it out, before I would numb out the awaiting feeling with wine, but I had forgotten to get alcohol and it would be a while before a shore, I could feel my blood pressure rising and my heart aching, my emotional pain was broadening to physical and making me hang off a tree, I couldn’t handle it, depression was far too loud, the pain far too unbearable and maybe I could’ve cut the throat in an awful, cliche matter just to make my death nearer and perhaps somehow drag Jamie selfishly with me, maybe I could haunt him, maybe I could curse him with me-
And all this time I was watching Miles smoke the cigarette, watching me.
“I was like that when Jamie would be on shore leave, fucking Alison.” He said, smoke leaking out with each word and I wouldn’t get my eyes red, instead I would turn to look at him and wondering how come the way we had snuck before seemed far less pleasing tan the one with Jamie and it wasn’t even about rooms or positions, Miles himself seemed to be drowning me more than Jamie or was it solely because of betrayal? We had made out here before and now I had cut that off. “I’d be jealous as fuck.”
I just shake my head, my whole body trembling, requiring sleep because then I wouldn’t be sober with life and reality dawning on me with the days becoming shallow mathematic lesson numbers which just would escalate into ridiculous numbers of oranges and apples forced into trucks with weird people who would want to get them to New York from Dallas and manage to meet a train halfway, yet all the graphs we would have to draw seemed to symbolize that said orange/apple carrying American would crash into said train. Maybe they did. I wouldn’t drive around with 300 000 oranges at some low speed. I would want to hang my life, solely because I don’t want it.
I wonder if it’s because Jamie had told Brian and I wonder how much of Brian’s words are actually his own order and how much had there been from Jamie and I wonder if it’s sexual distraction and we had never properly discussed how had each sailor fucked me, I would sometimes go in detail, but it was never anything arousing, just like anyone else would tell you about their sex life if they had dared to open up, it would’ve have ben hot, but it’s not yours truly to share or enjoy or even masturbate to. You’d have your own dirty fantasies to unleash. And it was as if I had tried to portray Jamie as a villain in my head with the aid of Miles, but no matter how much I would call myself a metaphor for their relationship it would still not work, so I let myself loose.
I still pay attention to Miles.
“I’m not really.” I muse on it. Alison is his sister and I still don’t feel too trustworthy of someone who had given up on me when I was in a worse state than I am now and I wonder how come he is even here, but then it wasn’t a question whether I was okay, like Jamie would listen to me, to whatever bogus I had decided to speak of, he had slowly started drinking himself the more I would speak and then he would offer and slowly we would progress to sex, as if I had been ashamed to properly have sex with him, the memory gnawing and cumbersome. But I had wanted him and I would initiate it, as he would follow and I wonder how long had I lingered in his mouth, thoughts and it occurred to me if he had touched himself to me and the thought seemed to excite me whilst being in a storage room with the wrong man.
It seemed dawning, as if the sun itself would break in two as if a non-powdered egg.
I wanted to be free and I wanted to be threatened by the actual laws of the shore, I didn’t want to be protected by anything besides Jamie physically being with me.
Three months.Maybe I should let time go, let the brain run because once everything is numb, all is let and nothing is spoken, that’s when time goes. Misery reaches a tomb and then resurrection comes with life just as bleak until it comes.
“Try not to think of it, it happened. That’s it, you refused, all will be fine, Alex, I mean it. Alison was also scared shitless.” He pats my cheek and I just allow my eyes to linger on his as if I had see a different shade prior in said storage, but my soul seems to have done a full somersault and I feel as if I could pour salt all over me, but he’s right, supposedly it’s just once and I solely wonder why was Jamie the offer? Was he the unattainable one for me? Was Matt easier to get than Jamie? Fear escalates on the focus of the moment and injury.
I kept musing, I want this to happen, but I don't think Alex would have an encounter and I guess since it was nearing the end of Nanowrimo, I was like… fuck it, I'm doing it, this is fun or whatever, exciting to describe, I dunno, maybe I write too much about it but it would be weird if in a spiritual story like To Miles I wouldn't have a bizarre encounter and frankly this chapter is freaky and I was thinking to publish it last year (haha, like last days of December) but I was running around so here it is:)
I actually wrote a bit more of the 50th chapter xD (yes, I'm that far ahead xD)
I was rather depressed writing it and using my own missing state to write more accurately regarding Alex missing Jamie and these chapters are the most painful to write, but my lips are zipped and I'll explain on the next chapters :)
I guess I can't complain at people hitting on me at times, but I get pissed off because I had plenty situations when people wanted to go platonic with me since I refused to date them, as if it had a different undertone, so the phrase regarding that was my small significant cumbersome phrase rant.
The small description of Alex's and Paul's break up was something I had with my ex, I didn't check out her mix tape because we were on a rocky path and I didn't want to think of her, so I avoided it and I got yelled at that naturally, so I had used that.
I kind of used my experience regarding Alison's as well and 500 also has that. It's very odd to be yanked open, so yeah.
I also kind of used I guess something I touched briefly before, because you get offered what you want the most, really, sort of a NGE when Kaworu shows up to Shinji before he turns into LCL (LCL yeah?) in the End of Evangelion, so yeah. So yeah, I dunno I believe in fate tremendously, so yeah, cards told me, so here I go.
It also makes you wonder a lot. It's odd and yeah. Refuse if you ever get anything like that.
I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for all the support you've given me
Tell me if you like it so far:3
To Miles 49