Sharing a quick cigarette in the night is more preposterous. I see Lana standing and smoking outside, looking at her watch, pushing her hair back and then I feel Jamie’s hand on my shoulder, before he nudges me and I start walking to her, as I glance at my ex-husband now as he minds his own business. I put my hands in my pants pockets, approaching her and she turns around to face me, big eyes on and we both take turns in breathing out the smoke into the cold, cold night. She doesn’t speak first as usual and I give a small chuckle, as if we were kids again, but it’s never that way. There’s only one being nostalgic.
To get rid of a dream, you need to find the thing that doesn’t make sense and focus on it. It’s not a virtue of repeating ‘doesn’t exist’ out loud, but challenge the memories dreams tell you you’ve forgotten.
I feel as if we are both one centaur and I happen to be the human part for some reason and I can’t even recall what she had told me when I was a bitter child, pushing memories away to make sure new ones aren’t made either and many things shine through others and the drift is more than evident in both of our eyes and everything we’ve ever said about each other is discarded.
“I’m sorry about your divorce, I never got to tell you, Alison.” Lana starts to speak.
“I’m not the one who takes pleasure in being a trophy wife. I don’t care.” At least not about just being with Jamie at all times and not in the way she would approve. Good thing I didn’t get her on the phone as finalized the end of the marriage and unlike Lana I wasn’t looking delicious and eager to start life anew, I was a wreck from my own decisions and stranded freedom.
“You’re still in touch with him, though-” Lana nods towards my ex-husband.
“He’s my lawyer.” I reply swiftly, cutting razor sharp through meat.
“Well, if it was someone I didn’t care about I wouldn’t contact, so you’re stuck with either not loving enough or loving too much to see him again, then.” She states, flicking the ash onto the pavement, wrapping an arm around herself and I don’t even know how her life is even going these days, as if she could be a ghost and I would never be aware of it. I keep looking at my sister, as if we were back in school photos where people don’t link us as sisters and my hair went through a mashup of all colours combined while Lana smiled the brightest and drank the furthest. She withers. “So which is it, then?”
I feel a shiver run past my spine.
“If I won’t ask, who will?” I hold my breath as she asks the question and I don’t move or say anything, too many things triggered and the puzzle shattered, making me ask myself if it’s worth to put the pieces together once more.
“Is this really what you want us to talk about after not talking for years?”
“No. You’re the one who brought him here, lawyer or not. He becomes the subject, just like you make sure to never discuss personal things with a friend, the ex-husband becomes one of them.”
“He’s not even here and he’s just...” I look and I see him smoking another cigarette. “Smoking.”
“So are we.” She smirks, even if we’re rather far away.
“Then you can argue that we may also be the inevitable topic of discussion.” Lana smirks at my daft observation. I continue, though. “You didn’t sleep over at mine, like you said you would.”
“I can sleep over sometime, I just figured Jamie would be over-”
“He’s at a hotel, just like you.”
“Would be ironic then, if we both ended up in the same one.” I shrug to her words.
“The city is small after all.” And I moved back in, because after all the places you’ve lived in you choose the one which gave you the biggest peace of mind and sometimes it ends up even being old childhood homes which have nothing more than not holding things you despise and that becomes enough in a dystopian world, letting everything crumble and soothing after all collapsing buildings in the mind.
I didn't want a love which doesn't fulfill me and I recall the streets again with the streamers as I walked, clutching and looking at him, trapped that nothing else would happen and all secrets would flourish as fungi in my body, as I looked at Lana's heels again, feeling myself warm up just like I had told Jamie back then.
Thinking of abortions as living things makes good metaphors of dead bodies inside but we've got enough misery to paint ourselves with black ink already, allowing it to shred us with the guilt of killing ourselves every day with the heavy sand clock.
Sex becomes a script for those who don't have it and we start shaming breathing, Lana's words rang through me after I had ended up dissing someone's comments on calling me sexy.
She laughed because I had been getting more sex than anyone she had known at the time and I was obsessed with a solitude image which I could be, just to be someone else in bed yet the word would travel different. I even managed to work part time at a sex store then.
“I want to forget memories with you, to know so long and to build so many, that I won’t even remember how we met properly, because we meet every day.” She had told me many years ago and since we drifted there was nothing to overwrite it.
And it’s in the night, when the body shakes and anxiety seems a thing as surreal as the moon in the depth spoon of the night, that I would also gaze at Jamie, passing cigarettes and that’s when I had told him things about Lana I had never told anyone or thought of sober again, because our fear of talking even if most of our interactions with anyone are sole body language, the plain bonding of words or lack of it, destroys us, because it’s like not holding hands during a dance, because we see how fast sun days pass, how streets go by to be never seen again or playgrounds to be destroyed and you’ll never want to walk on the streets you’ve lost your virginity on.
And Lana had walked on, we both did, to forget the memories we had built and looking into her light eyes made everything crashing down, as if I was looking at the light at the end of the tunnel, I knew I was dying and she was flashing in front of my eyes, reminding me of everything painful and every climax from that time we had kissed to when we both didn’t hold and with no words exchanged she pinned me down and looking at her, I knew how vivid my memories would now be, with her now thumbing with my life in a far more painful way than my ex-husband staying over whom I’ve had an affair longer than my sister’s life.
Sorry it ended up taking longer than I thought it would with the fact that I've been writing it and this chapter in particular had been written for a while xD I was musing on what to put out and I've been in an odd Alison/Jamie mood but I don't have that many stories of them so I've been writing a new Kills one so my mind has been there xD But I wanted something out coz tomorrow's my birthday (it's 20th here xD) and I'm not sure I'll be pushing anything out then but who knows:) so basically, I'm here and RV is one of my favourite which I'm writing xD
Also I'm happy that it's my last chapter updated when I'm 20. It's odd because this blog will be 5 years soon xD like I have a poem dedicated to being 17 and all xD
I find dreams and nightmares weird and I have them often. What usually yanks me out of a nightmare is to see what's wrong and then you realize that it's not true and you're dreaming and then I'll end up waking up, but dreams are an odd thing. (Fuck, I'm inspire to write now xD, I'm back now xD)
The centaur metaphor happened to me when I was trying to nap and I had the image and I was scared of losing that so I scribbled it on a notebook or actually hoped that when I would wake I would still have that image. My sleepy mind is a weird thing. Many story ideas and etc come from napping, dreams or the last night's thoughts.
The odd trophy wife kind of mock or not comes from the idea that I was musing on Lana's National Anthem and I kind of really like her role in the video, a lot and I kind of always wanted to write a woman like that, so Lana here is a bit of a spin on that desire if you must xD and in general I love Lana so much for her actually being an icon and showing without being a twat to the world, what a woman can do and I just love her to bits.
Lana goes on to judge kind of the question we all have, even I muse on or mused on coz now I know xD
I think what has to be said is that I take a lot of inspiration from life and what made it very weird in the beginning that the bitterness between them was taken a lot from my own experiences, but mine is more of a yelling fest and emotional abuse, but kind of touching the whole "sisters" thing was weird and in general becomes a cathartic thing and tongue in cheek, because I don't get along and neither do I want to yet I use the bitterness as a base for an actual good story. I use many things in life, failed relationships to be boosted and better like Miles/Alex in To Miles which is done from a wrecked relationship I had or I've used different exes, different women I've been involved with back when I identified as a woman (my gender was fluid in the past) and etc, I use odd fragments to make it vivid, cathartic and personal, so RV has that. I end up making relationships I never wanted on paper because I've felt different things, like sibling despite here. I can't remember what writer or poet the discussion was but in one of my English classes a few years ago we were discussing some female writer or poet and she became famous for talking of her family and the family was against it, naturally. It kind of comes from that, I sometimes don't give a shit about the people who've hurt me like siblings in this case. I'm more protective of family members I love, but it depends, but when it comes to Callie I ask her and we've agreed that I mention her and tell stuff which is relevant to plots.
If I won't ask, who will? Was also a sort of stab quote at the sibling annoyance. At times I was like shit, how do I do this but it's more than obvious and you have to separate yourself from characters and understand that like not all dogs bite, this is a fucking cat here, no relation whatsoever xD
Lana's and Alison's relationship is awfully complex here and I had thought of the memory quote randomly I believe and I was musing where I needed to describe such love and this was matching. The point of RV was that I see it more as two people which grew up together to be honest I needed someone who grew up together and had some taboo around them, but I always saw them as two people which grew up in the same family rather than "incest fetish", but it doesn't erase what it is and I've written incest previously, so it's been written before by me xD
The last line is metaphorical, it looks a bit odd, but it's a metaphor 8) go figure xD don't worry, feel free to ask:) okay fine, it's more like how it felt and experience as well. In general I'm really enjoying this story and I get to fiddle with many topics and relationships
Thank you and please tell if you enjoyed it ^^