Dallon and I have been through so many ups and downs in such a short time, and I'm not sure if I would ever erase them from my memory if I received the chance, as every event in a human's life is connected to other events, and all of those events teach unforgettable lessons, and though I have no idea what lessons my events have taught me, I at least know that they affected me in an indescribable way, and just because I cannot identify them doesn't mean that I have not been warped by their power.
And though there were probably more pitfalls than there were prosperous outcomes in this trip to France, I'd actually enjoy staying here to experience some more, but that unfortunately is not on the table, as we're leaving Dallon's estate today to return to the desert of Las Vegas, Nevada, which is perfectly fine as well, because I would rather not be hounded by Dallon's homophobic parents who think that I cursed their son when it was Dallon that cursed me to a month of suffering and has finally lifted me from that abyss to be mon petit ami, and even if that is homosexual corruption, it's not like Mr. and Mrs. Weekes' opinions matter in this world.
We're journeying back home to where we started, where all of this started, where our relationship went to hell and then rebuilt itself, where I cried for days at the loss of something I already knew was unstable, where that unstable concept returned to me and wiped away those concerns of safety, where we visit permanently as a whole deity in our own right, where we desert the homophobic parents who would've deserted us if they snared the chance, where everything will be all right again, where we can fall into a pattern of loving each other and losing each other in only brief seconds and ultimately realizing that losing each other might not be as brief as some other times, but that's part of a relationship, and we've worked so relentlessly to earn a relationship, and we didn't work to earn a free pass out of the underworld of it, but that's a long while down the road, and the only underworld we're faced with right now is the few minutes that we remain to be in the clutches of Dallon's parents.
Elle is as good natured as she always is, and part of me wishes that I could've interacted with her more, as she seems like quite the altruistic person who would care about everyone despite their many flaws, and it's always useful to have the sibling of your boyfriend on your side to spill some childhood secrets that you can utilize for blackmail in the event that they eat your designated cereal. On the plus side, I can be securely in Las Vegas and just ask Dallon to allow us to video chat with Elle, and we can say whatever we want without the wrath of his parents being a haunting threat hanging over us.
Those same parents are the ones who are glaring at me as subtly as they can, and Dallon doesn't even have to look at them to know that it's exactly what they're doing and exactly what they will be doing for the rest of this meeting, and after that we'll be flying towards the place where we actually feel home, so I can play with them without consequences, for I'm sure Dallon will never be returning to this underworld ever again after all of the shit he forgot was so ever present in his current life and in his past, and I am so proud of him for removing these toxic people from his mindset, because although they are his parents right now and have been his parents since he was born and will be his parents until they die, he is not obligated to provide them with the affection that he's poured into our relationship instead of theirs, because they didn't do shit for him besides scar him psychologically. They accused me of luring him into a suicide attempt when he wouldn't have been so shaky if his parents were the kinds of parents they should be.
Mr. and Mrs. Weekes don't shake my hand when we are discussing the plans for our departure, and I can detect the faintest dash of joy at this, but do they also know that I'm dragging their homosexually corrupted son along with me? They probably do, and I suppose that's why they're endeavoring to hug their cursed child, which that cursed child blatantly deflects to instead stand by my side, and it's obvious that his parents are devastated and are turning bitter, but neither of us really give a shit about them, as our minds are at the airport and what will occur when we arrive at our house in Las Vegas, where we will be safe from mon petit ami's homophobic parents.
It's evident that we will be met with the bullies in Nevada who accuse Dallon of faking it for attention yet somehow disappearing for a month, and we will also be very behind on our schoolwork, but this was an impulsively planned trip, and artists such as Dallon love impulsivity, in addition to the fact that we rekindled an old flame and defeated the barriers that would motivate Dallon to visit his homophobic parents again, and not one part of me feels guilty for turning him against his own family, because they were turned against him long ago, and there's nothing shameful about fleeing from that hell, especially when the airplane to liberation is so close to us.
It is my faith that this ride on the airplane back to Las Vegas will not be as harrowing as it was last time, even if I eventually settled into soothing a rhythm of counting the locations and how many seconds it took to fly past them with five second intervals in between to reset the clock and pick another location to follow, but I'll admit that this activity was a bit obsessive and a bit compulsive and completely unnecessary if I were a normal person who isn't terrified of being so high in the air with so many risks of falling and dying, but I'm not a normal person, so the prospect for myself is only existent when I hope that I'll be a tad better with my emotions than I was on the last flight. Dallon will be right next to me, which is always a help, and it is also my faith that he will be more responsive to my fear this time, as all he did on the last flight was clamp my leg to the chair so that I would stop rocking the seat with my somatically expelled nervousness, but now that I'm fueled by the energy of vanquishing two other bigots in this world, the only reason I would be jittering would be because of my excitement towards that goal, for in a place where we forgotten warriors suffer, freedom is a rarity and extraordinary when it comes, so I would just like to believe that Dallon and I have made it to that paradise.
~~~~~
A/N: these parents oh my g o d
aesthetic: the air bud franchise
~Dakotainted
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L'Appel du Vide (Nocebo Effect P3)
FanfictionL'appel du vide: "the call of the void", the demons who tell you it could all be over. Dallon Weekes tried to kill himself -- he doesn't think it's a big deal, seeing as the amnesia swept over him before he could register where he was. He doesn't ha...
