[ He's bewildered, and even moreso with what she pushes back at him through the synchrony. If that's what she has, then why? Why grasp for something so prickly and deeply inadequate when she has something that's hers? That's good?
Yet it is still a relief, to feel something that isn't him, because that's all he ever really wants is to not be him. Anything but him.
It would be too easy to crawl into this like a shelter and hide there, never leaving. But he knows it isn't for him and it's only slight breath of fresh air that will soon be gone. Like the fall, it will end and he will once again be nothing but, unfortunately, Ezar. ]
I'm glad for you.
[ It is a true statement; he knows how to be happy for the fortune of others even from his own mire, and it is truly good for someone whose loneliness he can recognize to find what she has. Though he is certainly no saint, either. He may be glad for what she has for her sake, but there is a small and deeply unworthy part of him that sparks up jealousy, and far more that wishes, that longs--
It's too much, to be in such radiance. He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. This makes him want things that he does not deserve to want. ]
And I'm sorry.
[ That he has nothing good in him to give, nothing joyful beyond the freedom of the dive, of the battle litany carrying him away to a place beyond thought where in its flow of syllables nothing hurts.
no subject
[ He's bewildered, and even moreso with what she pushes back at him through the synchrony. If that's what she has, then why? Why grasp for something so prickly and deeply inadequate when she has something that's hers? That's good?
Yet it is still a relief, to feel something that isn't him, because that's all he ever really wants is to not be him. Anything but him.
It would be too easy to crawl into this like a shelter and hide there, never leaving. But he knows it isn't for him and it's only slight breath of fresh air that will soon be gone. Like the fall, it will end and he will once again be nothing but, unfortunately, Ezar. ]
I'm glad for you.
[ It is a true statement; he knows how to be happy for the fortune of others even from his own mire, and it is truly good for someone whose loneliness he can recognize to find what she has. Though he is certainly no saint, either. He may be glad for what she has for her sake, but there is a small and deeply unworthy part of him that sparks up jealousy, and far more that wishes, that longs--
It's too much, to be in such radiance. He closes his eyes, swallowing thickly. This makes him want things that he does not deserve to want. ]
And I'm sorry.
[ That he has nothing good in him to give, nothing joyful beyond the freedom of the dive, of the battle litany carrying him away to a place beyond thought where in its flow of syllables nothing hurts.
Told you that you'd be disappointed. ]