[mature] things we never thought we could be, adna

[adna]

ADNA

I wish I could take the hands of time and turn them in reverse
I'd take back every long goodbye with venom in my words

She would drown him in her pain if she could.

She has no consideration for this stranger who did not asked to be pulled into the muck of her pain and her feelings. She does not care for the fact that he did not ask for her story—that he did not ask for her to explain. She is blind to the fact that she is an intruder on his space and is now making this all about her.

Instead she feels it rising up her throat. She feels it like a visceral thing—a live animal that bristles and leaves her raw. His eyes are so steady that she feels stripped bare beneath his gaze. Her eyes widen and she holds his gaze, tries to study it so that she could figure out what lives beneath it.

“I don’t know,” she answers, shifting uncomfortably underneath the weight of the moment and his honest answers. “I would devour the world on some mornings,” she confesses, because it’s true. She would tear it apart and not feel an ounce of guilt in the moment. She would let it all fall apart, save her two children.

But she can’t just leave it at that.

“But I don’t think I’m very good at not caring,” she laughs, and it’s bitter. “I am sure that’s a surprise to you.” Her laugh falls apart on her tongue and she looks at the ground for a second before she glances up again, studying his face more intently, with a ferocity that surprises even her.

“Are your parents wrong?”

She pauses.

“Were they?”

Because she catches onto the way he says ‘our’ and she is desperate for the chance that she is not the only one who has to grapple with things like this—that she is not the only person who must find the answers.

the only way to be being found is getting lost at first
but all I find are more bridges to burn