|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Mar 15, 2013 3:02:09 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] Any time Nell had to wind down and relax, she felt thankful for it. Usually she did it with her husband, but she also liked to find time in her schedule for her friends. They were the most important things in her life, and she placed them above both her education and her work. Morgan was one of those people she always found time for, and strangely enough in her home she found great comfort. She felt like lately the Fire girl had been warming up to her, pun whole-heartedly intended. Of course, this could have just been Nell's painstaking naivete, but she liked to think it was so because she considered the other girl such a close friend. Someone she could come to when things were rough. Now that she had found relative peace in her life, she didn't need that comfort as much but she still appreciated the girl's presence.
Though, it was Nell who had popped in on Morgan, as she so often did. She assumed her friends grew accustomed to it; Sandra, Matt, Lark, Cait -- they had all been victims of her spontaneous drop bys and forced friend fun. She just hoped they enjoy her presence. That's all she really wanted, to make people happy and if she wasn't doing that she would be very disappointed. Though she didn't want to think she had "ulterior motives" for visiting Morgan, she did have things she wanted to talk about. Girl talk, that is, though she considered the phrase to be pretty strange. Didn't people in general talk? She wondered if boys talked about girls the way girls talked about boys, but her lack of worldly experience couldn't aid her in answering that question.
Though she was curious, she focused more at the task at hand: painting her toenails colors of the rainbow. She had brought a bag of it, along with some night clothes because she definitely planned on sleeping over. She sat on the kitchen floor with a paper towel under her feet, careful in her strokes. "I was meaning to ask you something, Mo," she said as she painted her left pinky toe orange. Sitting in the middle of the kitchen in order to paint her toenails was possibly the most normal thing she had ever done. "Justin told me you had a date planned with him." She supposed this was a way of informing the other girl that she was friends with the Wind graduate. "Do you like him? You know...like like him?" She waggled her eyebrows at Morgan, twisting the cap off of some purple nailpolish. She would do her friend's nails were she to ask, though she better enjoyed doing hair. Heck, someone letting her do anything to them was fantastic.
tag: mo! | notes: you can decide who's home/what time it is/etc.
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Mar 15, 2013 11:30:36 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind Nell had sort of formed this habit. And as of yet, Morgan hadn’t decided whether it annoyed or amused her. Morgan would be at home, taking care of Emmaline, and Nell would just show up. She wouldn’t call, she wouldn’t text, she wouldn’t plan ahead. And after the first few times, she’d even stopped knocking. She just came in, made herself at home, wandered around until Morgan found her. It wasn’t rude though. Somehow it was totally natural. Emmaline began seeing it as a game. She’d sneak around the house, looking for a sign of Nell. And on the occasional that she found the older woman, Emmy would run giggling into the Earth woman’s arms. However, on this particular day, Nell had knocked. She’d settled herself in the living room, allowing Emmy to cling to her leg and giggle and chatter on about this and that – most of it the nonsensical production of a three-year old mind. Eventually they’d moved to the kitchen, with Emmaline complaining about a tummy ache which Morgan identified as hunger. She was now busily making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Nell sat comfortably cross-legged on the floor. She was painting her toe nails casually, careful not to misplace a single drop.
Morgan finished up Emmaline’s sandwich, sliding it across the counter to her daughter. Emmy squealed happily and started in on the sandwich. She munched happily in silence, and Morgan found herself settled on the floor next to Nell. She propped her back against the kitchen table, her knees drawn up to her chest. She knew any minute Emmy would finish her sandwich, and her eyes would sag. She was still young, and a nap after lunch was required. It had become a routine. Morgan knew that children needed a schedule, stability. They needed to know what to expect in their environment. As if on cue, Emmy hopped off her little chair, climbing into her mother’s lap. Morgan smiled, looking to Nell. “I’ll be right back.” Nell hadn’t said anything in a while, seemingly engaged in her toe-painting. Morgan stood, Emmy in her arms. She climbed the stairs, settling the little girl into her bed with her favorite ragged stuffed giraffe. She closed the door gently behind her, rejoining Nell in the kitchen. She smiled, half to herself and half to Nell. “We should have an hour before she wakes up.”
They sat in silence for another moment, before Nell apparently decided it was time to converse. She arched a brow at Nell’s first words, wondering what sort of question the other woman could feel the need to ask. Yet as the words came, she found herself stiffening, indignant fury crossing her features. “That little fuck told you what?” She hissed the words, burying her face in her hands. She sent Nell a glare. “He blackmailed me. It’s not a date and I’d love nothing more than to tear his throat out.” Yet the words didn’t truly have quite the venom they should have.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Mar 22, 2013 5:30:13 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] Nell had a lot of affection for both Morgan and Emmaline. She liked doting on the latter, and doing what she could for the former. Just watching them interact brought her joy. She did have to wonder if her fondness for Emmaline had anything to do with her biological clock ticking now that Josh had put the idea of children in her head. He seemed to really want them, and she steadily had been building herself up to the idea, even though she had quite a few mental blocks against it. Being around the incredibly cute young girl did not help her in making a proper decision. She can be difficult sometimes. Every child was, and besides, how would she know how to be a mother? Would Morgan even have advice? Feeling uncomfortable with a lot of the thoughts in her head, she refocused her attention on her nails once again, nodding her head when her friend said she would be back, presumably putting her to bed. And still, her biological clock ticked away.
She looked up and snorted when Morgan returned. They're a lot of work. Like she was making a child checklist. In her mind, she wondered if Morgan would wish that things had gone differently, even though she obviously loved her daughter. Would she wish it happened another way? What even had happened? Of course, these questions were much too personal to just pop out. Nell had a lot more discretion than that, especially since her friend had a temper. Not to mention, she respected her enough not to talk about that kind of thing.
Morgan's reaction had been far from what she had expected. The Earth graduated had thought it would be something along the lines of eagerness, even if it was well-cloaked as the other girl's emotions tended to be. She didn't let anything through, did she? Nell would have smiled fondly at the thought had her eyes now widened, now distracted from the nailpolish. "That's...not what he told me." She didn't think Justin to be a liar; she figured he must have left some details out? Maybe. "He seemed to like you. Well, he was curious about you at least. I told him you were cool." Now she wondered if it would have been the right thing to do, considering that Morgan did not seem at all excited about the prospect of a date. In fact, she held a desire to physically harm him. The exact opposite of infatuation.
"How did he blackmail you?" Nell questioned her, capping the nailpolish then as she wiped at the corners of her toe with a paper towel. Clearly, she had misunderstood the situation a great deal.
tag: mo! | notes: you can decide who's home/what time it is/etc.
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Mar 22, 2013 13:15:58 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind Morgan groaned, drawing her knees to her chest. She set her face in her hands, mumbling something that was incoherent even to her. But likely it contained more than a few swear words and centered around Justin. Truly, she’d thought she could be rid of him. But he was a rat, a spineless scurrying rat. And like any rat, he managed to squeeze himself in just where he wasn’t wanted. And, similarly to rats, he seemed to carry a plague on his very skin, in the air he breathed. Except this plague seemed uniquely engineered for the sole purpose of making Morgan miserable. She ran her fingers through her hair. She should have turned and fled. Usually she wasn’t one to show weakness, to turn tail and flee. But in the case of Justin, she should have just shoved her petty pride aside. If she had, if she’d run instead of engaging him in pointless conversation, perhaps she wouldn’t be dealing with her current nightmare. He wouldn’t have programmed his number into her phone, taken a cheesy picture with that overly charming smile. And it wouldn’t be vibrating in her pocket begging to be read. Yeah, she was a fool, but at least she knew and admitted it.
She lifted her head, resting it back against the bottom of the counter. “Of course that isn’t what he told you…” She muttered irritably, though not with any irritation directed at Nell. She couldn’t really muster herself to get angry at Nell. It took too much energy. And honestly, she depended on the other woman. Without her, her life could have been much more hellish than it already was. She shook her head. She didn’t really believe he liked her. Guys like that, well that wasn’t their style. She frowned, “He’s a player trying to make me his latest pawn, trust me, nothing more.” And that was what she really hated – the knowledge that none of it mattered. She wasn’t one to get involved in games, especially such infantile pointless endeavors such as Justin Duvall. She rubbed her temples, gesturing with one hand in the vague direction of Emmaline’s bedroom. “Emmy wandered off in the grocery store. I went crazy sprinting around trying to find her. And when I did, guess who was escorting her back to me.” It had been too perfect, almost orchestrated. She still had the boxes of cookies Emmy had picked out that afternoon – only half eaten. She tilted her head back, a half smile on her lips. “It’s a hard life, being as irresistible and pleasant as I am.” She meant it sarcastically of course. Not a single person would ever dare describe her as pleasant or endearing or anything remotely complimentary as such.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Apr 1, 2013 14:07:07 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] A player. Nell had heard that word before, needless to say in use toward her husband. She'd had to deal with a lot of rumors in the beginning of their relationship, most of which were not true. He had slept around, she knew that, but she didn't think of him as a player. Then again, she didn't exactly know what that meant. Did it mean cheating on girls? Going on a lot of dates with girls? She'd never heard it used for girls, so what was the equivalent? Whore, she thought, the word itself making her uncomfortable. She disliked it it immensely. Though she didn't know exactly what the terminology meant, she knew Justin and what he was, the fact that he couldn't be described as "committed."
And Morgan must have known all about that, judging by how she spoke of the Wind graduate. "I'm guessing you've heard the talk then?" she said, wiping off a little bit more of the nail polish before coating it again. No one could escape the rumor mill, because people talked. It was only natural, human curiosity even. Nell could not claim to be exempt, even though she never participated in malicious discussion. And she definitely would not have ever talked about Justin like that. "He definitely doesn't go for relationships, mostly. But he did tell me that he wanted to show you that he wasn't all that terrible." Or at least, that's what he told her as they sat in the crappy dive eating some wings. Nell believed it instantly, always gave people the benefit of the doubt. She didn't think he would mean any harm toward Morgan, especially knowing that she was Nell's friend. However, there was also the fact that in knowing the girls were friends meant he had intentionally lied about his intentions.
In any case, she didn't want Morgan to be forced. Or blackmailed, as she had said. That sounded rather cruel, and she wondered if that was the exact case. She trusted Morgan as much as she trusted Justin, they were both good friends, so when they had two conflicting views it became rather difficult for her to sort out. Her shoulders hitched in a silent laugh when Morgan expressed how irresistible she was. "I can imagine," Nell replied, equally as facetious. Really, she did have to wonder how much Morgan had to deal with creeps. Working at a restaurant may not have been as bad as working in a bar where Nell encountered her fair share, but girls tended to get hit on quite a bit. Now that the Earth graduate could more easily read the signs, she felt herself prepared for the kind of things. Unfortunately, she remained innocently oblivious to any other man's attention. "When's the last time you've even been on a date?" Had she even been on a date before? These were things she didn't know about her friend. Her social ineptitude didn't hep with it, wondering what the right age would be to start dating. The thought made her stomach twist and she didn't want to think of herself as a freak, so she just blocked it away.
tag: mo! | notes: oh snap, crazy nell muse. x.x;;
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Apr 2, 2013 14:43:41 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind Morgan rolled her eyes, lifting her head from her knees. Of course she had heard the talk. She may have been bitchy, unpleasant to be sure – perhaps even a little dangerous at times. But she hadn’t always been. Somewhere in the hallways of the Farren home, a portrait hung of freshman year Morgan – a giant grin and bright eyes, her arm looped with her younger sister’s. Hell, that Morgan had existed for fifteen years, a hell of a lot longer than the present version of Morgan. And in those years, well she had been a pretty young thing. She’d had the boys try it out, different pick-up lines, the flowers and romancing. Obviously someone had been successful – she had a child to prove it. And as teenagers were want to do, she’d fallen in and out of love more times than she could count. It had been childish, an immature understanding of what love was. And true, at nineteen Justin would be different than the fifteen year olds who had previously attempted to woo Morgan. But in her eyes, not that much had changed. Perhaps she was jaded, judgmental. But even the guys with the best reputations, the most desirable – ended up ditching at the first sign of danger. What would make Justin, a self-professes non-committal guy, any better?
Morgan found herself shaking her head. “Not all that terrible? Gee, what a glowing review. Who wouldn’t want a guy who wasn’t “all that terrible”?” She shot a wry, half-amused, smile Nell’s way. He could have shown up in a limo, roses in hand and a diamond ring – and Morgan likely still would have found a reason to taunt him, to refuse. Perhaps she liked her little set-up. She’d managed to find a balance – between student and mother. She had her own parents, her sister, her daughter. When she graduated, she’d move out and find a little apartment of her own. She’d bring Emmy too. She’d finally gotten some stability, some sense of where she was going – and how to get there. And then, to throw a man into the mix. Well that destabilized everything. It tossed into question every decision she could make. It was hard enough making decisions for herself and Emmy – but a third person? No. She wouldn’t take the responsibility, refused to expend the effort. Why waste time and energy on such temporary flimsy things? She saw no reason at all.
Nell’s next question made Morgan tense. She froze, her muscles tightening. She hugged her knees closer to herself, turning her face sharply away from Nell. A frown settled over her lips, erasing her previously teasing attitude. Her eyes drifted upwards, in the direction she knew Emmy’s room to be. A part of her would have stood, marched Nell to the door, locked it behind her. Perhaps, if it was anyone but Nell, Morgan would have done just that. But this was Nell, sitting on her floor, painting her nails, innocent and direct as she damn well pleased. “The last guy I dated was Emmy’s dad.” She didn’t say his name, even now three years later. He’d since graduated. He was in college. Fuck, he probably even took classes with Justin. She saw him now and then. He pretended not to see her. As far as he knew, she’d aborted the kid, spent the “mono” months recovering. And she never intended him to know, never intended to give him the pleasure of fatherhood, of a role in Emmy’s life.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Apr 6, 2013 0:26:40 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] People liked to think that since Nell was married, she would be a fountain of relationship info. And while she always loved to help people, this did not exactly prove true. Josh had been her first...everything, and learning the ropes had been rather difficult. She'd had to look a lot of information up just to be sure about what she was doing. Heck, she had to ask him what going out entailed. Luckily, he took it all in stride and looking back she realized that he must have really loved her even back then. It created a stirring in her gut. So, even though she wasn't exactly proficient, she liked to at least be of some help to Morgan in bringing up Justin. Especially since she actually knew the guy.
Nell snorted at her friend's words, matching her smirk with one of her own. "Hey, could be him just being humble." Thinking about it, that was something incredible coming from Justin. Not that he went around with his chest puffed out all the time, but he definitely had pride. As he should; she'd seen him in shows and he was a great actor. Was it so bad that he knew it and acknowledged it? She knew that a lot of people didn't like egos, but she didn't mind it a bit. "But you don't need to go on this date, do you? You're a strong, independent female who don't need no man." She snapped her fingers for effect. Though she was still living with her family, that didn't mean anything. Not everyone left home at seventeen like she did. She certainly hoped not since every move she made between ages seventeen and eighteen had been illegal.
That being said, even independent people found themselves in relationships. Jane had always preached the importance of self-preservation to her and she had been married more times than Nell can count on one hand. Independent didn't mean without need for love. So it didn't really surprise her when Morgan mentioned Emmy's father. What did surprise her was...well, she couldn't exactly explain it for lack of knowledge. She noticed her shift in expression when speaking of it, and wondered if she was treading ground she shouldn't. And so, in Nell style, she asked: "Would you rather not talk about him?" She stood up, turned on the faucet to a low stream so she could wash her fingers of any stray polish. She wondered what the guy had been like. In her mind, she didn't like him. Simply because he wasn't around and he was Emmy's father. A teenager he may have been (she supposed he must have been a teenager), but she didn't take lightly to a man who abandons his child. It was one of the few things that got under her skin.
tag: mo! | notes: poor mooooo. </33
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Apr 7, 2013 14:00:43 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind What attention Morgan had had for Nell’s discussion about Justin was gone. It had been swept away, in one fell swoop. It was replaced by surging images – memories and pictures imagined. She managed a distracted half-smile, a spiritless roll of her eyes. She didn’t care anymore whether Justin was being humble, whether he even knew the meaning of humility. Her anger with him, her outrage at having been cornered into this pitiful excuse of a date – it had faded away. Yet neither was it replaced by anger towards Emmy’s father. It was just, gone. It was as if it had been sucked away, replaced by a hollowness. In all honesty, she hadn’t allowed her mind to wander to Emmy’s father, not in months. Perhaps it was because, even after all that had happened, she couldn’t entirely bring herself to hate him. Whatever the reason, he always brought this numbness – this sense of having been suddenly stripped bare – of not knowing. And that was what Morgan hated most – the not knowing. It made her feel powerless, out of control. It took away even a hint of the stability she desperately needed, and left her to cling to another for support. And it seemed, in this instance, Nell would be her support.
She found herself lightly shaking her head. “I don’t mind talking about him. In all honesty, he’s become a sort of taboo subject in my household.” She glanced up as Nell went to rinse her hands. With a groan, she slid to the floor. She lay flat on her back, her hands over her face. She ran her hands through her hair. A frown on her face. Her words to Nell were muffled through her hands - “Don’t ever let a douche get you pregnant.” She would have said more, but honestly she didn’t know where to start. Was it even possible to describe, to go into? There were a hundred things to say, a hundred stories to tell. But which would be useful? No matter how she put it, how she told the story, it always ended up in the same place. Fifteen year old Morgan was pregnant, baby daddy was nowhere to be found, and nine months later a gorgeous baby girl popped into the world. It wasn’t all that complex of an issue. She rolled onto her stomach, folding her arms and burying her face in them. A part of her was relieved, to finally say something about it. Her parents, her sister, no one had ever broached the subject. It was as if he had never existed, like Emmy had been the product of some twisted immaculate conception. But no one had paused to wonder whether she wanted to talk about it, wanted to talk about him. And honestly, though she was just realizing it herself, she did want to talk.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Apr 9, 2013 22:16:35 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] Even if Nell wanted to, she couldn't imagine what Morgan must have been through. Her situation had an enormity which she couldn't fully comprehend. She had never been a mother. And as much as she could relate tiny pieces, it would never be the same. As much as she knew about men leaving their children, about being someone's sole caregiver, she still didn't understand the big picture. How Morgan could deal with it, how she felt about this guy, if she ever resented her own daughter. The last one sounded sick, and yet with Nell's skewed perception of mothers she thought of it against her own will. No, her mind argued, that's not what mother's do. They did not hate their children the way Mia had hated her daughter. She could never hold Morgan to the same standards as the woman who tortured her for most of her life. It was an insult to Morgan and any single mother like her, who was raising a child they loved.
She turned over to Mo when the other girl spoke before groaning and slipping down to the floor. Nell walked back over and sat pretzel-legged, careful wit her drying toenails. She cracked a half-smile at her words of a douche knocking her up. There had been a lot of things she'd been wondering. And she also wondered if she should ask these things, whether it was okay to go there. She seemed to have the go ahead, though, even though Morgan's words implied that her family wouldn't be too pleased with this conversation. "Did you love him?" That was one of the big things she had to wonder about. Before he got her pregnant and left, had the two been in love? Had she thought that they would be together for a long time, that eventually (when it's right) they would have kids? Had she even wanted kids before then? Morgan was still quite the mystery to her, wrapped up in stories she couldn't begin to unfold. She wouldn't even have been discussing this if not for Emmy, because of how the family had made sure that nothing got out about their pregnant...how old had she been? Nell counted back. Fifteen or sixteen. Far too young to be a mother, really.
tag: mo! | notes: important questions, yo.
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Apr 10, 2013 12:39:52 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind Morgan peeled her hands back from her face. She was still flat on her back. The cold of the tile against her skin was soothing, brought her out from her memories and regrets. She could hear the quiet tread of Nell’s bare feet. She appreciated it, the way Nell was careful not to ruin her nails. Other women might have rushed over, discarded every care for the time they had just spent. They would have been concerned with nothing but comfort, mothering. God, they probably would have offered a hug too, or worse some despicable pat on the hand. Morgan shivered at the thought. Luckily, Nell understood her. Nell understood that the more casual things remained, the easier it was. She’d never been a touchy-feely person. It was intriguing really. Perhaps it was a little known ability of the Earths – to read exactly what one needed, and give it to them without a second thought. Whatever the reason or rhyme, Morgan appreciated it.
As for Nell’s inquiry, well she barely had to give it a second thought. “Yes.” She answered simply. She was jaded, yes, and cynical and frankly quite unpleasant. But she believed in love, she knew it was possible. She loved her parents, her sister. She loved Emmy. And once upon a time, she had loved him too. She wasn’t one of those high and mighty adults who succumbed to the belief that children or teenagers were incapable of understanding romantic love. She’d seen it, experienced it. And even with her lingering bitterness, she knew it had been true. She stared up at the ceiling from her position on the floor. Her hair was spread about her, a pensive twist to her lips. “How long did it take you to love Josh? A week, a month, a year?” She shrugged. Her relationship with Emmy’s father had been unusual from the very beginning. Kids her age tended to date for a month, break it off, find someone new. But she’d met him, dated him, loved him until the day he turned away – nearly two years all together. Her point was simple. It had been impossible – unavoidable really. One couldn’t spend such a long time with another, and not learn to love them – even in that blinded hopeful way Morgan once had, that innocent oblivious way.
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Apr 15, 2013 5:05:48 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] Even though the question had been answered, there was another one she didn't want to ask: Did he love her back? Could you ever really tell, or could you just hope? Certainly he hadn't proven it by walking out, but her father had done the same and he had always loved her mother. Whatever the truth behind it was, she blinked at the next question. Nell took a breath. "That..." she started in thinking that she would have an answer at the ready. But she stopped. "I don't know, actually. How do you measure something like that?" Was she supposed to know, pin it down with certainty? Could she trace it back to a single event? She remembered him asking when she had gotten feelings for him, feelings for more than a friendship, the strange sort of relationship they had had before they began dating. Truthfully, she answered it had been when he stood by her side during the war when the enemy alliance was gunning for her blood. But what about the real attachment? Maybe she had always loved him and she just didn't know because love was far too abstract a word for feelings so intense and so complicated.
While she did not have the answer to those questions, she knew that she had put her husband through the wringer because of her abandonment issues. So she wondered how it would be for Morgan, were she ever to pursue a relationship, even if it was not with Justin who she apparently abhorred. "Do you think he still loved you? Even though he left?" Nell asked the question for more personal reasons than she would like to reveal, even to Morgan. She held her secrets close to her, even those that would be readily accepted by the public. No one would think any less of her if she told them that her father had abandoned the family when she was six. Yet, she couldn't tell anyone that. No one except Josh knew. Even Lark, who'd met the man, didn't know about their previous relationship. Or the fact that he told her, "I always loved your mother." She hadn't wanted to believe it before, that he could so readily abandon the woman he loved. But it had been her own mistake in thinking that it had been "readily." Still, as a woman who had lost someone she had been in love with, she wondered how Morgan felt.
tag: mo! | notes: important questions, yo.
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Apr 15, 2013 16:11:00 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind It wasn’t really an issue of measurement. It never had been. It wasn’t like a ruler, a test tube, a glass of water. One couldn’t squint and chew their cheek, deciding between one or two tenths of an inch here or there. You couldn’t assume that when twelve inches came together, you’d have a foot. There were no twelve inches of love, no way to measure. The way Morgan saw it, it was an instantaneous occurrence, a sudden knowledge of something beautiful and true. Sometimes it happened in a day, other times after decades of companionship. There was no “right” length of time. For Morgan, it had been a matter of months. She’d woken one morning, rolled out of bed, and her eyes had landed on a photograph on her bedside table. It had been the two of them, him holding her around the waist, her caught mid-laugh. She’d smiled and realized in her own quiet way that she loved him, that she wanted to wake up every morning to that frozen moment, to look on it with sweetness. She hadn’t questioned it, hadn’t demanded the same from him. And she hadn’t spent hours poring over what it meant, what it implied. She’d accepted it, in that simple hopeful way so many teenagers were wont to behave.
She attempted to shrug, but of course from her place on the floor, that wasn’t quite possible. It ended up looking like an awkward half-body heave. She rolled her head, looking to Nell. The question she posed, with a certain hesitance, was one Morgan had often asked herself. She knew, at some point in time, he’d loved her. She’d trusted him, known him inside and out. She’d never doubted, never feared that he said whatever necessary to get in her pants. It hadn’t been like that. Though perhaps if he had been a dick, or a liar, it would have been easier to split. It was the blind-side, the utter surprise, that had made it so damn difficult. “I don’t know.” She paused, her lips twisting pensively. She’d known at one point, but that time was gone. “I know he did. I don’t know if he stopped, and that made it easy to walk away. I doubt he still does.” She rolled onto her stomach, nestling her chin in her folded arms. There was a certain blunt honesty in her eyes, a lack of her guarded irritation. “Honestly, I don’t really care anymore. It doesn’t matter why he did it, or how he felt. It matters that he did it anyways.”
|
|
|
Post by NELL DOE DALE on Apr 22, 2013 17:42:50 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: transparent, width: 400px; height: 300px;] words to canonize these days this world is paper thin but it goes on when you give in. with a beauty for the living, yet this land's been less forgiving. there's a cloud that holds no rain, it just hangs in constant pain. a relentless reminder of what lies on the horizon.
[/style][style=width: 400px; height: 3px; background-color: #669966; margin-bottom: 5px; margin-top: 10px;] Nell watched as her friend turned over, being more open with her than she would ever thought she'd see. He did do it. That was the end-all of it, she thought. It didn't matter how he felt, and for someone who always tried to understand, she knew that much. This was one of the areas that she had the most understanding of, but she could't admit that to even someone she felt as close to as she did to Morgan. Now, she thought, it was mostly because it wasn't her time to say it. "He doesn't sound like a very nice guy," she said with a soft sigh. It was an extreme judgment for someone who immediately liked everyone upon meeting to make, but he both betrayed her best friend and abandoned her. How could she think of him in high esteem after the shit that he put Morgan through, even if he had loved her at one time.
But it begged for another question. Even if he was a suckish guy, did he have a chance? Nell didn't know if Morgan would ever want to see him again, that's for sure. "So let's say he came back around and apologized and wanted to help with Emmy and everything. Would you forgive him?" Nell didn't want her to, but she wouldn't say it aloud. It wasn't for her to decide how Morgan would react or feel about the situation. Her own feelings were from a deep-seated resentment for what her father did. She forgave him, no matter how complicated their relationship was, but would her mother have? She shouldn't think on that, and quickly diverted her thoughts away from her mother. The woman wasn't around to answer those questions, and if she were, Nell doubted she'd have the mental capacity to answer them.
tag: mo! | notes: important questions, yo.
|
[/td][/tr][/table][/center]
|
|
|
Post by MORGAN JANE FARREN on Apr 22, 2013 20:27:22 GMT -5
like a candle in the wind Michael’s face swam in her vision. She remembered him as a conglomeration of what he was today and what he had been nearly four years ago. He’d had a ghost of stubble then, hadn’t really been able to grow serious facial hair. Though he’d had a mop of curly brown hair and quiet eyes. Even now, so many years later, she still found him handsome (though she would never admit it). Yet any romantic feeling she might have once had was gone, had been swept away when he’d turned his back and walked out. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, shrugging in reply to Nell’s words. He was a dick, it was plain and simple. And due to Morgan’s more vindictive temperamental side, she wasn’t willing to reevaluate her view of him. It was easier to hate him then to miss him, or really to feel any other sort of emotion towards him. And any lingering positivity for him had been crushed by the anger a long time back.
She snorted, raising a brow at Nell. “You’re fucking with me right?” First off, she could never see that happening. Michael would never find out about Emmy, Morgan had made sure of that. Keeping her daughter a secret wasn’t just for her own convenience, but for keeping Michael at arm’s length too. He didn’t deserve a daughter. “The bastard wanted to kill Emmy, he thinks I did!” She made a disgusted face, shaking her head. She plucked a tortilla chip from the bag sitting between them and munched on it. She was firm in her belief, nothing could ever make up for what Michael had done. Perhaps, if sometime in the three years since, he had approached – tried to apologize, done anything at all, they could have salvaged their relationship. But to him, it was like she had never existed, like the years together had meant nothing. She shook her head again. “I’d rather Justin be a father to her than Michael.” Immediately, she wished she could suck the words back through her lips.
|
|