![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
amaranthine-7.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Maybe
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Prompt 369 - Making ends not quite meet
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: I haven't cried that much in a while.
March, 27th
I haven't cried that much in a while.
I guess it's a good thing. It must mean I'm getting over this.
She held the pen above the page, unable to write another word in her journal. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn't want to lie in her journal. It was the only place where she couldn't lie. It was the rule.
She bent her head backwards, trying to force the tears back inside of her. She would not cry.
She had to write the truth. It had been the rule when he had given her the journal.
Her lips trembled and tears escaped her control, gliding down the side of her face.
She curled up in a ball and cried.
---*---
March, 27th
I haven't cried that much in a while.
I guess it's a good thing. It must mean I'm getting over this.
I have just cried.
I thought I was getting better but I'm probably just kidding myself.
But life does seem a bit easier. My daily routine is somehow becoming more real and not so much of a chore.
She paused a moment.
I get out of bed more easily.
She looked at the last sentence. It was the truth. During the week, when she had to go to work, waking up wasn't so difficult anymore. She would be surrounded by people all day, there would be tasks to do and somehow she was almost looking forward to it when the alarm sounded in the morning. It was comforting to have this routine.
It was the week-end that were difficult she realised. Then there were no reason to get out of bed, no purpose to the long stretch of day. She was too easily trapped within her mind. She would meet up with friends some times but it never lasted long enough, never an entire day. It never exhausted her as work could and she still had the evening to deal with, on her own.
---*---
April, 9th
It's brighter outside.
I went for a walk today.
It is Saturday and I got out of the house with no purpose in mind. I just wanted to walk. It was very early and the shops were still closed, so it was only me, a few joggers and dog walkers.
It was nice - like a fresh start.
Was it though, she wondered.
In some respect it probably was. She had enjoyed the walk. She had even managed to sit on a bench in the park, close her eyes and smile as a feeble ray of sun caressed her face.
Maybe it was just time she needed. Maybe she would be fine again as they all said.
Maybe.
She let the pen hang above the page for a few seconds before resting her hand. She wanted to scratch the word. She wanted to be more hopeful, but she couldn't. It would be a lie.
She wasn't sure it was a fresh start. She wasn't sure she was better. Not yet.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Prompt 369 - Making ends not quite meet
Warnings: None.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: all mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: I haven't cried that much in a while.
March, 27th
I haven't cried that much in a while.
I guess it's a good thing. It must mean I'm getting over this.
She held the pen above the page, unable to write another word in her journal. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She didn't want to lie in her journal. It was the only place where she couldn't lie. It was the rule.
She bent her head backwards, trying to force the tears back inside of her. She would not cry.
She had to write the truth. It had been the rule when he had given her the journal.
Her lips trembled and tears escaped her control, gliding down the side of her face.
She curled up in a ball and cried.
---*---
March, 27th
I guess it's a good thing. It must mean I'm getting over this.
I have just cried.
I thought I was getting better but I'm probably just kidding myself.
But life does seem a bit easier. My daily routine is somehow becoming more real and not so much of a chore.
She paused a moment.
I get out of bed more easily.
She looked at the last sentence. It was the truth. During the week, when she had to go to work, waking up wasn't so difficult anymore. She would be surrounded by people all day, there would be tasks to do and somehow she was almost looking forward to it when the alarm sounded in the morning. It was comforting to have this routine.
It was the week-end that were difficult she realised. Then there were no reason to get out of bed, no purpose to the long stretch of day. She was too easily trapped within her mind. She would meet up with friends some times but it never lasted long enough, never an entire day. It never exhausted her as work could and she still had the evening to deal with, on her own.
---*---
April, 9th
It's brighter outside.
I went for a walk today.
It is Saturday and I got out of the house with no purpose in mind. I just wanted to walk. It was very early and the shops were still closed, so it was only me, a few joggers and dog walkers.
It was nice - like a fresh start.
Was it though, she wondered.
In some respect it probably was. She had enjoyed the walk. She had even managed to sit on a bench in the park, close her eyes and smile as a feeble ray of sun caressed her face.
Maybe it was just time she needed. Maybe she would be fine again as they all said.
Maybe.
She let the pen hang above the page for a few seconds before resting her hand. She wanted to scratch the word. She wanted to be more hopeful, but she couldn't. It would be a lie.
She wasn't sure it was a fresh start. She wasn't sure she was better. Not yet.
