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She wondered if she was just not cut out for staying in one place, around people who wanted to be friendly or at the very least helpful. She was used to be stared through - treated like thin air or kept around to serve some sort of purpose (though when that was the case, she made damn sure to get what she needed from that person too) then quickly bid farewell. (That had happened with Eamon after the whole incident at the farmhouse - he was more than eager to drop her on the side of the highway when he had gotten just "far enough away" without even a curt "good luck". Just left her with the red bag full of money and the clothes on her back.)
That was why even though she had planned on staying, she had promised to stay. To just be there, to try to make a life. She wrote the letters anyway. One as time passed and she met someone she felt like she might be close with, could be anyway. With enough effort. Her skills in that area were always lacking. Besides if something picked her up and placed here there, who was to stay that it wouldn't make her go back or to another place entirely.
She felt lonely. The people were seemed so eager to jump to her aid, but at the same time she was wary around them. She liked a handful of people and she knew if she left she would always wonder if she could have been friends, real friends with them. They were all people who were just as different as her in some way or another. Maybe even more so. She liked Gabriel, Gene, and Lara. Lara was someone who she could speak in German with and was someone who obvious had done more than enough traveling in her life - two commonalities, that was enough to allow Marie to like her - her taking her out for a drink when she felt the world was going to hell was just icing on the cake.
Gene? He was interesting. They seemed to agree on enough. She liked talking to him anyway. She wished they could have done that more. He was good at advice, at least making her realize how she sounded out loud.
Gabriel was probably the person she felt she got along best with, though she couldn't easily place her finger on the reasons. Probably because they both didn't "fit" where they were from. Maybe. She never really got to find that out. But she liked his company anyway. He also was another person who tried to look out for her own well-being. She never got to repay him for checking on her when she had decided to lock herself away in her shop. She had hoped to. She really had. She also liked that she could help him sell his watches in the shop, it was nice to feel like she could help in some small way.
She felt tired. Why did living with and by a routine make her so tired? Wake up, have tea, go to the shop, come home? Sometimes go out or help someone with something? It was draining. More so than having to rush pack a suitcase, catch a train or get into a strange, new car and just go somewhere. Yes, she did do some of the same things no matter where she lived, she had been forced to change it up every so often to keep others from being able to pick up on her. The scary part was that it was so easy to get used to and that she had gotten so comfortable doing it.
She felt restless. She hated moving constantly, but she felt like she wanted to be able to see things and to move.
She just wanted to be able to move again. At least she thought that would help, but she also questioned if she was trying to bullshit herself at the same time. She wondered if she was just that she felt lonely and if she felt lonely she might as well be alone.
Leaving was best, putting distance was best. It was the kindest thing she felt she could do for him. Things were different. He even said she was different and while she thought she understood it at the time, she wondered if she really didn't deep down. A few months later, her mind kept going back to that and it hurt. Something someone said actually hurt. When did things like that start to hurt? This. This wasn't her. Whatever happened to being able to shrug it off or take it as something good even when it really wasn't all that good? Was this bad? Was it good? Or was it something that just was? When did it start to matter? When? Why?
She finds herself wrapping her arms around herself and letting herself fall onto the bed with a soft "thud". Then she turned onto her side
Then after a while she felt her eyes begin to water and sting and she shut them, taking deep breaths which still felt shallow. Her chest hurt and it felt like a weight was on it. She squirmed a little at the sensation and then buried her face into the closest pillow.
She supposed she had to leave. Maybe come back, maybe. But the idea of leaving and coming back made her feel even more dread than just leaving and never coming back. A little sadness beat feeling guilty every day, she would recover from sadness with some time but guilt - she didn't know how well she could handle that. She had never felt particularly guilty before in her life. The others would get over her quickly, she was still a stranger to them - they would forget all about her in a day or two. She really only worried about Jason. She knew he would act rashly, she had more than enough reason to believe he would stop her or he would "act out" in some way. (At least by her definition of both of those things.) Or he would try to come with her even if it wasn't possible or something that shouldn't be done.
But, she also felt like she was only hurting him by being around. Reminding him of something that really never had even happened to her, she couldn't understand something she never had a memory of. She tried. But she failed. She couldn't even fathom what had happened after she died, what he felt he had to do and why. She tired so hard for him, but it made her sad to know and it made her feel she was shouldering the responsibility for it all. Like if she had been there, she could had stopped him. Like she should have lived to stop him from acting so rashly. That most of all, she felt it was her fault that he hurt.
Besides, she hardly saw him here. And to be selfish, that hurt her just as much. She had grown too dependent on someone being around - she hated that. When did it happen? When did she become that person?
She never said her way of thinking made sense.
She would leave in the morning dressed as she was when she arrived and she wouldn't seek anyone out for goodbyes. She couldn't bear to face anyone. She wouldn't able to explain herself that way and she couldn't bear to see the look she knew she would get from Jason. He would try to end up coming with her if she told him in person that she wanted to leave and she really couldn't bear the guilt she would feel over that. She would have to lie and tell him that it was over if she spoke to him about it.
No, he couldn't come with her, she would refuse to allow him to. She knew deep down that it was best if he stayed here. He didn't have to run and his face was much more recognizable than hers - besides, she knew if she went back, she only had so much time left. She was afraid of that knowledge and for a moment she wondered if just staying put was still better. She didn't exactly want to die - far from it. Besides, what if she did get hurt or die again? What would that do? It cause something even more horrible to happen again.
"I can't live with that on my conscience..."
That was the last thing she wanted, but staying here? It hurt. At least where she was, she knew enough about how things worked. She was comfortable with it, she had agreed to it entirely.
She felt like everything was being ripped away from her anyway. It, in a sense, was regardless of staying or going. No matter what, the decision wasn't going to be a good one. Someone was going to get hurt. She was going to get hurt. There was no avoiding it and no way she felt she could voice that to anyone. She was used to having to care for herself or be the strong one for someone else - falling apart was never an option, there was no time or energy to spared for it.
Yes, she would look into leaving in the morning. If she wanted to, maybe she could come back later...maybe...
That was when she felt the tears finally fall.
(ooc: I will eventually make a post with the letters she left, but not now.)
That was why even though she had planned on staying, she had promised to stay. To just be there, to try to make a life. She wrote the letters anyway. One as time passed and she met someone she felt like she might be close with, could be anyway. With enough effort. Her skills in that area were always lacking. Besides if something picked her up and placed here there, who was to stay that it wouldn't make her go back or to another place entirely.
She felt lonely. The people were seemed so eager to jump to her aid, but at the same time she was wary around them. She liked a handful of people and she knew if she left she would always wonder if she could have been friends, real friends with them. They were all people who were just as different as her in some way or another. Maybe even more so. She liked Gabriel, Gene, and Lara. Lara was someone who she could speak in German with and was someone who obvious had done more than enough traveling in her life - two commonalities, that was enough to allow Marie to like her - her taking her out for a drink when she felt the world was going to hell was just icing on the cake.
Gene? He was interesting. They seemed to agree on enough. She liked talking to him anyway. She wished they could have done that more. He was good at advice, at least making her realize how she sounded out loud.
Gabriel was probably the person she felt she got along best with, though she couldn't easily place her finger on the reasons. Probably because they both didn't "fit" where they were from. Maybe. She never really got to find that out. But she liked his company anyway. He also was another person who tried to look out for her own well-being. She never got to repay him for checking on her when she had decided to lock herself away in her shop. She had hoped to. She really had. She also liked that she could help him sell his watches in the shop, it was nice to feel like she could help in some small way.
She felt tired. Why did living with and by a routine make her so tired? Wake up, have tea, go to the shop, come home? Sometimes go out or help someone with something? It was draining. More so than having to rush pack a suitcase, catch a train or get into a strange, new car and just go somewhere. Yes, she did do some of the same things no matter where she lived, she had been forced to change it up every so often to keep others from being able to pick up on her. The scary part was that it was so easy to get used to and that she had gotten so comfortable doing it.
She felt restless. She hated moving constantly, but she felt like she wanted to be able to see things and to move.
She just wanted to be able to move again. At least she thought that would help, but she also questioned if she was trying to bullshit herself at the same time. She wondered if she was just that she felt lonely and if she felt lonely she might as well be alone.
Leaving was best, putting distance was best. It was the kindest thing she felt she could do for him. Things were different. He even said she was different and while she thought she understood it at the time, she wondered if she really didn't deep down. A few months later, her mind kept going back to that and it hurt. Something someone said actually hurt. When did things like that start to hurt? This. This wasn't her. Whatever happened to being able to shrug it off or take it as something good even when it really wasn't all that good? Was this bad? Was it good? Or was it something that just was? When did it start to matter? When? Why?
She finds herself wrapping her arms around herself and letting herself fall onto the bed with a soft "thud". Then she turned onto her side
Then after a while she felt her eyes begin to water and sting and she shut them, taking deep breaths which still felt shallow. Her chest hurt and it felt like a weight was on it. She squirmed a little at the sensation and then buried her face into the closest pillow.
She supposed she had to leave. Maybe come back, maybe. But the idea of leaving and coming back made her feel even more dread than just leaving and never coming back. A little sadness beat feeling guilty every day, she would recover from sadness with some time but guilt - she didn't know how well she could handle that. She had never felt particularly guilty before in her life. The others would get over her quickly, she was still a stranger to them - they would forget all about her in a day or two. She really only worried about Jason. She knew he would act rashly, she had more than enough reason to believe he would stop her or he would "act out" in some way. (At least by her definition of both of those things.) Or he would try to come with her even if it wasn't possible or something that shouldn't be done.
But, she also felt like she was only hurting him by being around. Reminding him of something that really never had even happened to her, she couldn't understand something she never had a memory of. She tried. But she failed. She couldn't even fathom what had happened after she died, what he felt he had to do and why. She tired so hard for him, but it made her sad to know and it made her feel she was shouldering the responsibility for it all. Like if she had been there, she could had stopped him. Like she should have lived to stop him from acting so rashly. That most of all, she felt it was her fault that he hurt.
Besides, she hardly saw him here. And to be selfish, that hurt her just as much. She had grown too dependent on someone being around - she hated that. When did it happen? When did she become that person?
She never said her way of thinking made sense.
She would leave in the morning dressed as she was when she arrived and she wouldn't seek anyone out for goodbyes. She couldn't bear to face anyone. She wouldn't able to explain herself that way and she couldn't bear to see the look she knew she would get from Jason. He would try to end up coming with her if she told him in person that she wanted to leave and she really couldn't bear the guilt she would feel over that. She would have to lie and tell him that it was over if she spoke to him about it.
No, he couldn't come with her, she would refuse to allow him to. She knew deep down that it was best if he stayed here. He didn't have to run and his face was much more recognizable than hers - besides, she knew if she went back, she only had so much time left. She was afraid of that knowledge and for a moment she wondered if just staying put was still better. She didn't exactly want to die - far from it. Besides, what if she did get hurt or die again? What would that do? It cause something even more horrible to happen again.
"I can't live with that on my conscience..."
That was the last thing she wanted, but staying here? It hurt. At least where she was, she knew enough about how things worked. She was comfortable with it, she had agreed to it entirely.
She felt like everything was being ripped away from her anyway. It, in a sense, was regardless of staying or going. No matter what, the decision wasn't going to be a good one. Someone was going to get hurt. She was going to get hurt. There was no avoiding it and no way she felt she could voice that to anyone. She was used to having to care for herself or be the strong one for someone else - falling apart was never an option, there was no time or energy to spared for it.
Yes, she would look into leaving in the morning. If she wanted to, maybe she could come back later...maybe...
That was when she felt the tears finally fall.
(ooc: I will eventually make a post with the letters she left, but not now.)
