Jan. 26th, 2009

thewordofweb: (the secret I keep: by ?)
Everything is to be assumed to be over.

It's about as painful as I had thought it might be and while I take strides to find Joe, I can't help but wonder if I had kept all my desires and lust to myself, would I hurt this badly as I tried to repress every ounce of emotion before they can grow blades and cut me open. I can do this, though. Pining ought to be my strong suit, for all that I've pined for a normal life devoid of war or the book that's only started now.

Joe Liebgott has been co-opting most memories and earns himself whole sentences now where he might have been a passing mention, before.

After three full nights of him not returning to my bed (four days), I take it as a sign that we're moving back to what we once had. That Joe is avoidant in the day is an even greater indicator of this and I trudge up to the Compound with this crushing knowledge in mind. At least, at least I haven't lost him entirely. He's still breathing and he's healthier than I thought he'd be. He's alive. That's all I need.

I find him eventually in the Compound with a book in his hands and I brave myself for this peace offering, ready to put the past behind us and brace ourselves for the incoming future. "Joe Liebgott," I announce, forcing a smile on my lips. I rub a hand over my stubbled cheek and grin his way. "Is that literature?"

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