[ it was probably inevitable, right? that Matt would withdraw in the face of this topic. is Abel pressing his luck?
while he cannot lie - to himself, or to Matt - about how genuinely eager he would be at the prospect to turn Matt away from Kenoma, it isn't his intention, now. this isn't a decision so easily unmade, is it? if it were, they wouldn't be standing on opposite sides right now. that's how Abel feels, anyway. ]
I like the sun on the water; I like building sandcastles and burying my toes in warm sand... I like sitting side-by-side with someone and talking about everything and nothing at all, too. I like the smell in the air after it rains, and snuggling into a warm bed after a particularly long day-- or getting a hug after having missed someone for too long. You know, the kind where they squeeze just a little too hard...? Ah, that is the best sort.
[ ... ]
I like, mm... watching someone's eyes when they speak about something especially close to their heart, or seeing that smile when someone masters something they'd been struggling with for so long they thought they might never get it, and I like flamingo swimshorts and hideously patterned and too-bright shirts with flowers and guitars on them, and I like the company of someone who'd have the sense to add said guitars, and--
[ he takes a breath--
and he reaches out, plaintively. ]
And as painful as life can be... as much as it can be warped, and rotted, and overcrowded-- I think that's part of the point, isn't it? We can't appreciate any of the things we truly love if we don't understand how imperfect, how terribly fragile... and almost cruelly delicate that all can be. Life is flawed... and it can hurt-- suffocatingly.
[ Abel thinks that Matt must understand that, and personally. ]
But... what comes from that pain isn't always pain and pain alone-- and finding happiness and purpose through it...
[ ...Matt. ]
I don't have to tell you, do I? I think you already know and feel it too. ...Some of the things... the people you love most are terribly flawed, right? Can you really tell me... all of it, all of it should disappear? That if it did... that you're sure what might grow out of the ashes would truly be what you wanted?
no subject
while he cannot lie - to himself, or to Matt - about how genuinely eager he would be at the prospect to turn Matt away from Kenoma, it isn't his intention, now. this isn't a decision so easily unmade, is it? if it were, they wouldn't be standing on opposite sides right now. that's how Abel feels, anyway. ]
I like the sun on the water; I like building sandcastles and burying my toes in warm sand... I like sitting side-by-side with someone and talking about everything and nothing at all, too. I like the smell in the air after it rains, and snuggling into a warm bed after a particularly long day-- or getting a hug after having missed someone for too long. You know, the kind where they squeeze just a little too hard...? Ah, that is the best sort.
[ ... ]
I like, mm... watching someone's eyes when they speak about something especially close to their heart, or seeing that smile when someone masters something they'd been struggling with for so long they thought they might never get it, and I like flamingo swimshorts and hideously patterned and too-bright shirts with flowers and guitars on them, and I like the company of someone who'd have the sense to add said guitars, and--
[ he takes a breath--
and he reaches out, plaintively. ]
And as painful as life can be... as much as it can be warped, and rotted, and overcrowded-- I think that's part of the point, isn't it? We can't appreciate any of the things we truly love if we don't understand how imperfect, how terribly fragile... and almost cruelly delicate that all can be. Life is flawed... and it can hurt-- suffocatingly.
[ Abel thinks that Matt must understand that, and personally. ]
But... what comes from that pain isn't always pain and pain alone-- and finding happiness and purpose through it...
[ ...Matt. ]
I don't have to tell you, do I? I think you already know and feel it too. ...Some of the things... the people you love most are terribly flawed, right? Can you really tell me... all of it, all of it should disappear? That if it did... that you're sure what might grow out of the ashes would truly be what you wanted?