You know the drill. Masterpost. Day 11. Analogical.
Yes this was inspired by that one warrior cats (I have a friend who is obsessed okay) animatic of She Wants Me (To Be Loved). (That’s where the quote/s are from by the way).
In the morning, the sun will rise,
And I’ll wake up and (s)he won’t be mine
The bed next to Virgil was cold, just as it had been yesterday and just as it was going to be tomorrow.
He sighed, and closed his eyes, not knowing why he had opened them. Nothing good was going to come of being able to see today. No matter how hard he tried to be happy for Patton and Logan, he couldn’t be. He maintained the facade that he was on the outside, but he wondered how easy it was to see through.
He still remembered the day he had told Logan of his feelings. It had been a sweet summer’s day - he still remembered the heightened anxiety that he had felt, the words of encouragement Remus had whispered to him, a memory that now fell as a reminder to never ask Remus for advice.
To Remus’ credit, it had been good advice. For another person, or another time, it would have been great advice.
He still remembered the look on Logan’s face; the flicker of something before it was carefully masked. There had been a certain rawness in his reaction that had given him hope that maybe Logan felt similarly; that had been dashed seconds later by the controlled nature of his response. His heart had sunk at the words, but he had tried to maintain a casual nature, laughing it off. He doubted that Logan believed everything was alright, no matter how many times he had told him that it was fine his crush didn’t care about him back.
Romantically, Logan had corrected. I don’t think about you romantically - I still care very deeply for you platonically, but I do not feel any romantic emotions towards you. I’m sorry.
He supposed he should be thankful that he still had Logan in his life, even if it was platonic. Friendships were still important, and he had done more to help Virgil than he deserved. He wouldn’t even be going to therapy, wouldn’t even have realised that he needed therapy without Logan, and he would forever owe him for that.
Sometimes he wondered whether it was because he was such a screw up, and that if he had been a better person, a more stable person when he had first met Logan, then maybe he would return Virgil’s feelings. Other times, when he was stronger, he remembered his therapist's words, that love is crazy, and that sometimes people will fall in love with people who won’t love them back, and it’s not their fault, it’s not anyone’s fault really, it’s just how the world works. Sometimes it’s timing, sometimes it’s the clash in personalities, and sometimes it just is.
A few months later, Logan had announced his relationship with Patton. He had told Virgil first, and he had smiled and said all the right congratulations towards them, wishing him a happy relationship. And he had meant it - if Logan had a chance to be genuinely happy, then he deserved it. Virgil deserved it as well, but no one owed it to him to give him that. He had to make his happiness, and then maybe someone would come along, maybe not.
It hurt every time he saw them, but he couldn’t stay away from Logan, and where Logan was Patton now was. It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid his best friend, it was just too painful to watch him be happy when Virgil knew he wouldn’t. Not for the time being, whilst he still cared about Logan in the same way.
The space next to him would be cold for a while. Maybe in the future it wouldn’t - if he got over Logan, then maybe he could find someone else to take his place, who would care about him in the same way that Virgil did.
Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Maybe it would be some animal lying there, or maybe he would never fill that space.
He hoped it wasn’t the last one. He might have been hung over on Logan, but someday he wanted to wake up to someone who loved him. He just hoped he would love them in the same way back.
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I saw you again.
For the first time in over two years, my eyes laid on yours and in that fraction of a second the air was wrenched out of my unexpecting lungs.
My next inhale felt incredibly delayed, as though in that second, time had frozen still. I clutched onto Oxygen begging for his relief but he kicked my hands away and left me gasping.
Yet everyone else around me was still laughing, walking to their next destinations, continuing with their lives as if the ground beneath us had not just been torn away. And then I realised. Time hadn’t stopped, only my world had stopped.
And in that moment two years felt both like an eternity and the blink of an eye. It was as though I’d finally seen you again after a nights rest, my eyes fell upon yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. Yet my body ached with the forgetfulness of unfamiliar months.
The strings of my heart that once grasped desperately to yours, cling desperately in their frailty. It’s strange looking at someone who once consumed you. Recognising the frame that encompassed yours and the familiar smell that filled your lungs with a comfortingly addictive poison.
My mind knows full well how devastatingly I loved you, but my body echos with the emptiness of time. I’d much prefer the emotions that once drowned me, to this dull throbbing. It’s reminder is far too great that I know all about you, with out longer knowing you.