[fic] Everyday (Loneliness is)
Jan. 20th, 2011 05:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sessho08Title: Everyday (Loneliness is)
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: none, Changmin-centric
Words: 556
A/N: Written while listening to this song. It's not really based on it, this song just made a good background for writing.
Loneliness is when:
there are only two pairs of shoes at the front door instead of five and they’re not thrown haphazardly but lined neatly because you have nothing better to do--
you wake up to the sound of retching in the bathroom and no soothing words and murmurs to accompany them and break further the quiet of the night--
you finally have space for all your books and CDs and all other stuff because, for the first time in years, you’ve got your own room--
against better judgement you pick up a call from an unknown number and are met with harsh, hateful words, hissed with venom and righteousness and it’s not even that what truly hurts--
you feel like crying but you won’t let yourself because you’re not that weak, because you’re better than this, and you can and will endure this--
you feel like crying and you actually give in and start sobbing vehemently and uncontrollably, tears on your face and clothes, your hands shaking because there’s no one to pretend in front of--
you can’t decide if you’re more hurt or angry and for once it doesn’t even matter--
your girlfriend finally dumps you (and you’ve seen it coming and it does nothing to make it better) – ‘you’ve changed so much’ on her lips and dozens of accusations and pity reflected in her eyes--
you need to vent off because he left a big mess in the living room for the n-th time this month and no one comes to join you, laugh at you or try to calm you down--
both of you are hungry and not in the mood for take-out and the kitchen welcomes you with shining, unblemished (unused) surfaces and numerous pots and pans that neither of you knows how to use--
you run out of spice and there’s no complaining and no nagging to buy more and so the container stays empty for weeks--
there’s no sudden silences during which you marvel at stupidity of some people and conceal your snickering with your palm--
no piano keys are hit way too late in the night and they’re covered with a thick layer of dust, no more shining black and pristine white--
no one tries to pry off your fingers from where they're clenched tightly around the controller because there’s always more than one spare now--
your lips curve upwards because it’s a correct step to make--
you smile honestly and laugh uninhibitedly, clutching at your sides because it hurts, for the first time in what seems like forever and for one moment you forget about them completely, and then the recollection comes--
you’re mad because you shouldn’t feel guilty and you don’t want all those what-ifs and might-have-beens and yet, here they are and so are you--
(you wish you weren’t and hate yourself for it)--
you and him give your best and it’s still not enough, not even close--
you and him try and for the first time you are actually quite satisfied with the results--
there are only two hangers with clothes prepared in the green room and you know it's going to stay this way.
Loneliness is:
all those things and more; intangible and yet sometimes more real and recognisable than you yourself.
You:
think that maybe you can learn to live with it.
Comments and criticism more than welcome :)
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: none, Changmin-centric
Words: 556
A/N: Written while listening to this song. It's not really based on it, this song just made a good background for writing.
Loneliness is when:
there are only two pairs of shoes at the front door instead of five and they’re not thrown haphazardly but lined neatly because you have nothing better to do--
you wake up to the sound of retching in the bathroom and no soothing words and murmurs to accompany them and break further the quiet of the night--
you finally have space for all your books and CDs and all other stuff because, for the first time in years, you’ve got your own room--
against better judgement you pick up a call from an unknown number and are met with harsh, hateful words, hissed with venom and righteousness and it’s not even that what truly hurts--
you feel like crying but you won’t let yourself because you’re not that weak, because you’re better than this, and you can and will endure this--
you feel like crying and you actually give in and start sobbing vehemently and uncontrollably, tears on your face and clothes, your hands shaking because there’s no one to pretend in front of--
you can’t decide if you’re more hurt or angry and for once it doesn’t even matter--
your girlfriend finally dumps you (and you’ve seen it coming and it does nothing to make it better) – ‘you’ve changed so much’ on her lips and dozens of accusations and pity reflected in her eyes--
you need to vent off because he left a big mess in the living room for the n-th time this month and no one comes to join you, laugh at you or try to calm you down--
both of you are hungry and not in the mood for take-out and the kitchen welcomes you with shining, unblemished (unused) surfaces and numerous pots and pans that neither of you knows how to use--
you run out of spice and there’s no complaining and no nagging to buy more and so the container stays empty for weeks--
there’s no sudden silences during which you marvel at stupidity of some people and conceal your snickering with your palm--
no piano keys are hit way too late in the night and they’re covered with a thick layer of dust, no more shining black and pristine white--
no one tries to pry off your fingers from where they're clenched tightly around the controller because there’s always more than one spare now--
your lips curve upwards because it’s a correct step to make--
you smile honestly and laugh uninhibitedly, clutching at your sides because it hurts, for the first time in what seems like forever and for one moment you forget about them completely, and then the recollection comes--
you’re mad because you shouldn’t feel guilty and you don’t want all those what-ifs and might-have-beens and yet, here they are and so are you--
(you wish you weren’t and hate yourself for it)--
you and him give your best and it’s still not enough, not even close--
you and him try and for the first time you are actually quite satisfied with the results--
there are only two hangers with clothes prepared in the green room and you know it's going to stay this way.
Loneliness is:
all those things and more; intangible and yet sometimes more real and recognisable than you yourself.
You:
think that maybe you can learn to live with it.
Comments and criticism more than welcome :)
