Here nor There

So I've been avoiding the new townhome in London. Actually, I've been avoiding London all together. I'm not sure, but my fight of flight reflex has kicked in, and I'm doing everything I can to suppress it. Every moment in his company I have to choose my words for fear of the smallest thing setting him off. Last time I was in the new place, we were getting into the business of snogging and he started an argument. I just want kisses and caresses, not goosebumps and adrenaline rushes. So I leave, telling him that when he's ready to get back to our lovemaking, he can find me. But what does he do? He stalks me, finds me, then continues his weak arguments. I truly don't understand why he doesn't understand. He's always got this look of hope on his face when he asks me if the Professor is around, but then turns when I tell him I haven't seen him. Why is he relying on that faker who has only hurt us more in the long run? Not only has this "Professor" given my Zillah false promises, but he hides out, just letting the demon consume Zillah even further. Who has to deal with this rollercoaster ride? Not the Professor... what does he care? From what I gather, he's put all this hope into X removing this demon's grip, but then tells me he wants to adapt and become 'godlike' by keeping it. He can't control it, and I'm seeing that first-hand.

Godlike pushes me away.

So do wild moodswings.

Everything is so contratictory, and has been since I've returned from Sea-at-tel. Old man Rowane never returned my plea for help... I'm sure he's still upset that I never went through with his delicately planned Ward to send me back to Sea-at-tel. It's understandable, I'd be mad, too, if my efforts were dismissed like that. I screw everything up...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Goodbye

Image
I've come to realize that I've been used. You doesn't really care for me as you claim. Hell, you never claimed. You only griped and complained about my actions. So goodbye, Zillahface. Relationships are not important to you, and you aren't afraid to express that. That's ok... for you. That's not ok for me. You've disappeared for long periods of time, only to be condescending and threatening to me when you come back. I'm not an expert at relationships, but my ideal man would miss me, and show it. I've been nothing but accepting to your ways, and might I add they are not the norm. You said I'd be back. No, you'll be back. Lime.
Read more

Gypsy Down for the Count

Image
I had another friend that I trapped in my cottage. An older gypsy woman by the name of Sway. She liked to sway around, so I guess that's how she got her name. And don't ask me about my obsession in trapping people in my house. It's not that I trap them, I just kind of lock the door so they can't get out. Anyways, me and Sway got along real great. She'd be there hanging out in my garden practicing little jigs, and here I'd come and jump in on the dancing. I'm hoping that someday I can use the little hip tricks she taught me to seduce some boys. I must admit that she did distract me from my fire-dancing practice. She had no interest in such things, she said. She felt that it would singe her hairdo, and some gypsies won't ever risk that. But then the ... i want to say inevidable... happened. She was slaughtered. In front of my eyes. The murderer callous and irrational. Of course, he didn't care. Apparently I'm not allowed to have friends, no matter ...
Read more

Easy Does It

Image
I wasn't afraid to kill myself. Not in the least. It would have been easy to just slip into the bathtub at the cottage, and not come back up for air. Or just bleed into my freshly growing flowers that are starting to grow back in the garden. Ironic no? Taking life on fresh life. It was easy to envision. Some wandering soldier (since there's so many that like to trifle through my things) would come into my home, find my corpse, and raise the alarm. Oh no, another gypsy dead. Not like there aren't handfuls of them around Romania. And they'd take my body to the waste and dump it with all the other unidentified bodies. Some sentimental fool would come to my house and out of respect, burn my house to the ground. I would have liked that. Hey, I'm still thinking of just burning down my house for sport. It gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. The letter wasn't a cry for help, it was a declaration of what I was to do. I was ready. Completely. But m...
Read more