Writing: Regrets
Jul. 28th, 2007 10:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolven7I tell her, "I wouldn't take any of it back. Not one word, one day, one look. None of it. I wouldn't take a word of it back. I apologise if I hurt you, but I'm not sorry that I did it."
She stares at me. Her face is blank, and almost cold. Waiting.
I tell her, "If I was sorry for any of it, that would mean that I didn't want us to be here, right now. It would be saying that I want to change this thing that we are, what we have, and all that we've learned. I don't. That makes me a prick, and I know that, but it's what I am. It's the truth."
She smiles, a little sad, and strokes my hair.
I tell her, "Everything you've done, everything you've become is in some small part because of the things I've said, the things we did together, the--" I cough, for a long time.
She moves her hand down to my arm, and I don't look at it, because something isn't right, there, and I can't know about it, yet.
I tell her, "What you hold in your hand is the product of all the right and wrong things we've done. I hope you can see that. I hope you won't hate me, too much."
She wraps her fingers around my arm yanks down, the tendons and ligaments in my shoulder popping and tearing.
I stifle a scream and I watch as she takes her other hand and pushes it under my sternum, to the wrist.
She tells me, "I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all."
©Damien Williams. All rights Reserved.
She stares at me. Her face is blank, and almost cold. Waiting.
I tell her, "If I was sorry for any of it, that would mean that I didn't want us to be here, right now. It would be saying that I want to change this thing that we are, what we have, and all that we've learned. I don't. That makes me a prick, and I know that, but it's what I am. It's the truth."
She smiles, a little sad, and strokes my hair.
I tell her, "Everything you've done, everything you've become is in some small part because of the things I've said, the things we did together, the--" I cough, for a long time.
She moves her hand down to my arm, and I don't look at it, because something isn't right, there, and I can't know about it, yet.
I tell her, "What you hold in your hand is the product of all the right and wrong things we've done. I hope you can see that. I hope you won't hate me, too much."
She wraps her fingers around my arm yanks down, the tendons and ligaments in my shoulder popping and tearing.
I stifle a scream and I watch as she takes her other hand and pushes it under my sternum, to the wrist.
She tells me, "I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all."
©Damien Williams. All rights Reserved.
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 05:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 06:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 07:51 am (UTC)would expect that your creative mood end up with more metaphysical ouvrage,
though what do I know?
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 01:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-30 12:55 pm (UTC)interesting scene. I know where you are coming from in this. Standing beside your ideals, and things said no matter what other people want you to do.
Oooh, hey,
Date: 2007-07-30 05:47 pm (UTC)... I might rant about this later.