you & i

eighteen » cepheus

dear infinity,

i still hate parties with every cell in my body. it's exhausting, really, to drink until i am so overwhelmed by my uninhibited feelings that i feel numbed to the world and to wake up in someone else's house every saturday morning. it's completely soul-draining to have to constantly worry that you are going to be dragged upstairs in your drunken stupor by some other guy who doesn't know where his boundaries are (which is why i take you away first).

and it's killing me to pretend that i can just forget everything and that everything's fine and that everything's fun. because it really isn't, finn. everything is definitely not fine, and i don't think i can let you go on trying to drown your troubles in alcohol and parties and everything that implies much longer. these parties have to stop.

but at the same time, i know you can't and you won't. i know that you only go to these parties because you have to pretend if only for a few hours. i just hate seeing you like this. i hate these parties. they need to stop, please.

i don't know how much more of this i'll be able to handle. i thought it would be fine, as long as you were happy, but wanting to do something and actually doing something are decidedly two very different things.

i do want you to be happy, but even more so i want us to be happy. and parties just pull you further into the void and push me further into my misery. we haven't even been on a date in forever because you always have a party scheduled for us to attend. i want us to return to our initial happiness and bliss because that is the way i have learned to get over pain and suffering—by replacing them with happiness and joy.

perhaps cassiopeia's other fault was that she let her own daughter be sacrificed for her beauty, regardless of whether or not she claimed to be more beautiful than the nereids. no, actually, that is not correct. if cassiopeia truly believed that that statement was the truth, then the one who was at fault for offering up andromeda was not her but her husband, king cepheus. he willingly gave his beautiful daughter up for a problem that was cassiopeia's own, and i don't think he even hesitated when the gods demanded the princess in exchange for peace once again.

and may the world curse me until death if i let our relationship—the product that results from the multiplication of you and me—be given up because of a problem that might possibly have a better alternative. like i have mentioned before, i love you. i refuse to give you up, not when we've come this far, when we've given ourselves, heart, soul, body, and all. i absolutely refuse to let such a bright shining star such as yourself slip through my fingers. i absolutely refuse to give up.

so please don't give up on us, on me, or on yourself. you haven't found the answer to the equation called your life yet. just talk to me, please, and we'll figure out a solution together. you are worth so much more than what you're giving yourself.

i should probably take my own advice. it's hardly even fair to only wish for you to talk to me properly about your issues and not even do it myself. but the problem is that i don't want to burden you at all. i only want us to last, and the only way i know how to make that happen (or at least prevent us from completely running out of fuel and falling apart and collapsing on ourselves as a supernova does) is to maintain proper communication.

maybe i should take you on a date soon. after all, i haven't tried to take you on one ever since you began this partying craze, and maybe part of the reason why you want to go to so many parties is because i've been too frightened of messing up to take you somewhere else. besides, we'll be able to talk more comfortably in a quiet, peaceful place rather than in someone else's house, trying to yell over the loud thumping bass and the alcohol-infused dancers and the police sirens echoing in the distance.

my only question now is: where would you want to go?

love,
beyond