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Post by caleb jay ierie on Jun 11, 2013 9:40:51 GMT -7
so sick of wasting all my time how in gods name did i survive? TAG: ollie-bird <3 WORDS: 1038 ONE LAST THING: EMOTIONS
Somewhere in the realm of last night, Caleb hadn’t taken time to think about what happened. If he had, his mind would have gone in a tight downward spiral. He needed to keep his thoughts occupied, and so he shied away from the obvious. When he was driving, hands on the wheel automatic, he could think about things. What he`d said to Oliver, what had happened, how it weighed against his own feelings. Nothing really made sense in this whole mess. Caleb was used to being told what was wrong and what was right. As a lawyer, he stood in a world of black and white. Not all the time, however, that was what his job was. He needed to convince others what was most certainly a shade of grey was pure and white and good. Life was not washed in stark contrast, so many things didn’t make sense, he should have been used to it. It was nearly impossible to apply this logic to his own life. That felt too cold, to calculating, and often there was a giant exception sitting in his mind. It could not be explained, it was wordless. However it was heavy and it was there. That was where emotional compromise came in, the exception came from his love. All signs pointed for Caleb to leave, any logical person could see that. Except, he loved Oliver. They didn’t see the amount of that, they didn’t understand the good that Oliver was, they didn’t understand him the way Caleb did. His mind was wired to pick up the way Oliver looked and breathed and talked and connect it with an emotion, instantaneously Caleb knew when things were bad and were good and where they laid in a shade of grey. He could sometimes pick up the reason why, or even if there was not a reason or a way to fix it, make Ollie feel better. That was his job, take the grey and make it into white.
The affirmation of how horribly he had failed last night was hard enough to bear. He'd known what he was doing walking away, he'd been naive to expect Oliver to feel better once Caleb left. Caleb wasn't the problem. How could he have not fully realized how much that would destroy Oliver? How had he not realized when he returned home to the shell that Oliver had become, that he'd wanted this to happen? It would have felt selfish, that was a reason, to automatically assume that Oliver had taken the drugs after Caleb had left because Caleb had left. That was unhealthy, to base your happiness, your life and your worth on the love and existence of another. That Oliver would have tried to kill himself once Caleb left, it was like a threat to Caleb. He couldn't think of it that way, Ollie wouldn't have meant it that way, but that did not make it any more healthy. Caleb had been the reason Oliver had wanted to die, end his life, figured it wasn't worth living without him around. How could he not feel responsible for that, guilty for it? If he had not been planning to stay around as it were, this fact would force him to.
“Fuck, Ollie, fuck” he had to hesitate, stop, take his time because he didn't know how to put his thoughts into words. The night had felt like a mess, a crazy dream, but it was over now. They had to discuss it still, Caleb needed to relive the nightmare. “When I came back, well, you were really bad baby,” again with the nickname, the casual slip. It was only because Caleb could no longer think of Oliver in any other way. His subconscious wanted Ollie to know that. “I tried talking to you, shaking you, but you wouldn't respond. I..I thought you might,” his voice cracked and he stopped again, hand curling around his ankle tightly. He wasn't sure if the pulse he felt was from his hand or his ankle, but it felt jumpy. “I knew, I knew you'd get bad if I left Ollie, I knew you wouldn't react well, but I still left. I'm so sorry” he hiccoughed, and lord, could he not cry for once? “You just have to understand, I thought it would be for the best. I acted selfishly, I know, I didn't know what else to do, I felt so lost. I'd never want to lose you.” god, what else was he supposed to say? It wasn't about getting Oliver back, it was about understanding, working through this problem together. Caleb could see the way he was curled up on the edge of the couch, how that meant he wanted to be held, and yet he still hesitated. He didn't know if he was allowed too anymore, or at least if Oliver wanted him specifically. So instead he looked down, trying to compose himself, taking deep breaths.
The way the air felt tense was cutting at his heart. The distance between the two of them, the hurt that Caleb felt. He didn't want to tell himself that Oliver was done with him, though he should have been. As badly as Oliver treated Caleb, Caleb had done the same and it didn't matter how justified that was. It all came back to love, and hearing Oliver say those words again was like a dream. Caleb couldn't have been awake, he had to have imagined it. However when his eyes met Ollies, and he didn't look away, he could see the love reflected in his eyes. It was real, but Caleb didn't know how that was possible. “I love you too Ollie bird, so much,” he kind of half sobbed the words, still staying on his half of the couch. Though he had said that, he still felt this was not the time to cuddle him, to hold him. “What can I do to help, baby? Anything you want, I'll do. Even if...” his eyes darted down to his hands, the ragged edges of his bitten nails. A habit he'd stopped years before but suddenly had plagued him again ten months ago.
“Even if you want me to leave.”
i need a little sympathy, to sore my insecurities
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Post by oliver rhys cardinal on Jun 12, 2013 14:25:58 GMT -7
--i wanna be free, i wanna be loved, i wanna be more than you're thinking of everything seems to be estranged when you're alone- Oliver knew he should have been paying attention, because everything that Caleb was saying was important, it all mattered and he valued everything that Caleb could have to tell him at that moment. He wanted to know what had happened, and in the entire world, Caleb was the only one to be able to tell him. Yet there was a part of him that found his mind wondering where this had all begun. Putting what he knew from yesterday together with what he could remember from the past, is was presumable that he had found the drugs somewhere in the closet; he distinctly recalled being in there, after all, and before he had left the house for those six months of their breakup, he knew he had usually kept something in there for if he had ever needed it. It was logical to assume that that had happened this time, which meant the problem started when he had found it. Only, the thing was, that wasn’t the start of it all. Because if he hadn’t had the drugs there to begin with, he couldn’t have relapsed, which put the problem back almost a year. And if he hadn’t been addicted, he wouldn’t have had it in the first place, which set the problem at somewhere years before. But addiction is hard to come by without first being introduced to a substance, and so it could be believed to have started ages ago, with an adored boyfriend teaching him how to set up a line and take it without being too easily identified as a coke user. Even still, things could go back further, to the start of that relationship, to the end of the one previous, through all of the people that Oliver had dated in his lifetime, down to some childhood yearning to have a lover. Where that had come from, he didn’t know; perhaps from seeing his own parents’ happiness in each other, perhaps from the books and movies ending in ‘Happily Ever After’, or perhaps just something ingrained in him from birth, be it his genetics or simply his nature as a human. And so it made him wonder if he was always meant to be here, if it was fate that he would always mess things up between himself and Caleb, if there would have been any turn he could have taken so as to avoid becoming what he had. More than anything in the world, Oliver wished he could not be here. Not at the end of the couch, but in Caleb’s arms. Not sadly apologizing but sweetly murmuring things to Caleb before the man had to get out of bed and start the day before going to work. That was where he belonged, at least in his head, and that was where he would have rather been right now, given his choice. The problem was that he wasn’t sure he had ever had a choice. Maybe he was just born to keep fucking up.
Whatever Caleb was saying, it was obvious that is was painful, and would be for the both of them, had Oliver been paying complete attention. As it was, he was distracted, but he could still hear the hurt and the sincerity in Caleb’s voice, and what more did he need? For better or worse, healthy or unhealthy, they still needed each other, they were still hopelessly intertwined and helplessly in love and no matter how bad things got they would still be this way. That was why it hurt so badly, because when things go wrong it hurt them both individually and consequently. They hurt because the other had hurt them and because they had hurt the other and because all hurts were shared between them, and sometimes it felt too much. Oliver could understand why Caleb would leave--or, as it had been so many months before, ask Oliver to leave. Sometimes the pain would get too much, and though separation was agony, it was a dull ache, as opposed to the intense stabbing pain of confrontation and arguing. There was always a difference between active pain and inactive pain, and sometimes the latter was easier to deal with, and so it sometimes almost became relief. The hurting didn’t stop, but at least it became something different.
Caleb would not have come back if he wasn’t willing to help. That was something that Oliver knew about his boyfriend, because it had been seen throughout their past. He came to the funeral because he wanted closure between them, and he had invited Oliver to live with him again because he was willing to try again. Just as he had done then, his return meant that another chance was being given, and Oliver’s only regret was that he had needed so many chances. Nobody should have to put up with as much as Oliver had put Caleb through, and it was unfair that he simply had to come back and take more of it every time. Sure, Oliver suffered under the loss of Caleb’s presence and the time it gave him to reflect on the hurt he’d caused, but the time hurt Caleb more, and the actions themselves paired with the reflections on them, those were enough to remind Oliver that no matter what Caleb could do, Oliver would always be the one causing more damage. So the idea that Caleb was giving him the choice between them being together or apart felt so wrong; it shouldn’t be for the abusive one to decide. It only seemed fair that Caleb make that decision, and what would have been healthiest was that he decide to separate them for good: divide up their possessions, sell the house, start their lives without each other. Oliver didn’t deserve another chance because Caleb didn’t deserve any more suffering. What he did deserve was the choice, though, and even that he gave to Oliver.
“It’s not up to me, Callie,” Oliver told him, his mind still spinning over the words said before. ‘I love you too, Ollie bird, so much.’ But he shouldn’t, because Oliver hadn’t earned it lately. “I want you with me, of course, I always have. But I don’t deserve you. I’ve hurt you too much and I can’t tell you to stay and go through that again. You don’t know what withdrawal is like; if I stop taking drugs I’m gonna get bad again and I can’t ask you to be there for that if you don’t want to. I want you to be here, but more than that I want you to want to be here, and that’s something I can’t command. I want to get better, and I know having you here will help, but I don’t want you to choose to stay out of guilt or obligation or any of that. You have to think of yourself first because I hurt you too much.”
Word Count: 1170 | Tag: Callie Bearrrrr| Notes: augh i'm excited to watch you read this
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Post by caleb jay ierie on Jun 14, 2013 18:43:04 GMT -7
so sick of wasting all my time how in gods name did i survive? TAG: ollie-bird <3 WORDS: 930 ONE LAST THING: BOYSS
He couldn't leave, there were too many things tying him to Oliver. Too many unresolved issues, broken feelings, love and a tie that couldn't be severed. Caleb always believed that when you loved someone, you never stopped loving them, no matter how much they had hurt you, or didn't pay attention to you, or didn't love you back. When he had gotten broken up with the first time, this had seemed to be proved false. Caleb felt like he could never love again. At first, he'd felt so hurt, but so willing to forgive and forget. Even in all the pain and the anger, he would have taken the man back. After a while, his heart had hardened, moving on from grief and denial to anger and acceptance. He had stopped loving the man, but really, not entirely. The love had turned hard and cold and although anytime Caleb saw Kale, he felt angry and hurt, some part of him didn't wish harm on the man. The hatred was intense, but it couldn't barrel past that one shred of love left over, enough to make him want that. He was caring, enough that it became a fault, and he knew that. He couldn't make that go away however, as many problems it caused him.
Oliver had hurt him, that much had been obvious. They had both incurred the heartbreak in the past. The fact was though, Oliver could be the only one to heal him. He'd gotten a modicum of closure when they spoke, and the previous months that had past. It still hurt, yes, it would always hurt, but Oliver was there to make it better. He needed to gain his trust back, and Caleb had instilled it so quickly. If he left, that closure would not be gained. He might be able to move onto another relationship, but he would be trying to fill the void in his heart. A void that could be closed with talking, yes, would be fine if they parted ways. However, if they stayed together, it would be forgotten. The wounds could disappear, and Caleb would be happy again. As it was unhealthy to rely your existence on another, it was unhealthy to base your happiness on another.
The first thought on his mind would not be his happiness, or Olivers, however. It would be the fact that he did actually deserve this, that he needed something sad and tragic to happen in his life. And of course, it was idiotic to think that you needed something horrific to happen in your life to be justified. If Caleb felt sad, or lost, or lonely, he felt he had no reason. Any reason, however, to make him sad was reason enough. He didn't have to trace it back to a sour childhood or a messy breakup. Caleb had problems at work, his mother was a survivor of breast cancer, his father found it hard to speak to him and they lacked a proper connection. Caleb didn't need to try and bring more trouble into his life. He needed to think of himself, as Oliver had said. The sane thing would be to leave, yes. Pack up his bags. However, Caleb knew this could work, he knew it could. If he put in the time and effort and stopped running away, it would work. If Oliver would trust him and stay with him and talk to him, it would work.
The distance between them wasn't something Caleb could take. If he wanted to start being selfish, he had to begin with actions. Hesitatingly, he stretched out his legs across the couch, scootching down so he was closer to Oliver. For the moment, he sat with his legs tucked under him to the side. There was too much tension between them, so many lines and questions of what they weren't supposed to do, but nothing about what they were allowed and supposed to do. Caleb didn't know if he were imagining half these things as it were. “Ollie look,” he hated the way his voice sounded, still choked up and his hands had a slight quiver to them. He really needed to quell that habit. “I know you hurt me, you hurt me a lot. You hit me, you didn't talk to me, you tried to push me out of your life. But you also took me back in, and I know you didn't mean it. You held me, you cared for me, and you made me idiotically happy. I know you love me, and I love you,” he stopped for a moment, looking at Oliver, his sad hazel eyes, that mop of brown hair that first grabbed Calebs attention. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he leaned down and kissed the soft spot of flesh where Olivers hair was parted at his forehead. Fuck tension and fuck allowances, he was going to kiss the man he loved. “I want to be here. I can't say I will ever understand how hard it is for you, but I can say that I will help you as best as I can. I've thought about leaving so much, and that's just not something I can do,” he felt like he was being over dramatic, but he was just trying to get Oliver to understand. It was as if he were repeating himself, but really the conversation had just spilled itself over in his head a million times in the course of the night and the morning. Caleb just needed Oliver to understand, he wouldn't leave, not ever again.
i need a little sympathy, to sore my insecurities
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Post by oliver rhys cardinal on Jun 15, 2013 18:17:57 GMT -7
--i wanna be free, i wanna be loved, i wanna be more than you're thinking of everything seems to be estranged when you're alone- Oliver didn’t know if it was fair to expect anyone in the world to handle everything he had done, much less a boyfriend he’d only been with for about two and a half years, and it was only two years if one didn’t include the six months they hadn’t spoken. Between drugs and abuse and cancer and general neediness, it was a lot to ask, and much of the time Caleb had to be the only one who knew about it. The cancer wasn’t a secret, really, but the drugs were, at least from his parents, and the abuse was the least mentioned of all. Unless Caleb had neglected to tell him otherwise, the only one besides the two of them that knew anything that happened between them in that respect was Jon, and though he’d been surprised and momentarily upset that someone else knew, Oliver knew it was perfectly reasonable and justified for him to need someone to tell. It severely damaged the relationship that Oliver and Jon had, naturally, and though it had been only casual acquaintanceship before, it felt a lot different now that he no longer had his approval. Sometimes Caleb would come home with reports of things he had said, how Jon told him that Oliver wasn’t good for him and how he was disappointed that they were back together. And Oliver knew that there had to be something to that, that Jon wouldn’t say these things if at least some of it wasn’t true. Part of him was almost afraid of the day when Caleb would start taking Jon’s side instead of his, but he knew he had to trust Caleb. That was part of the healing process for them, and being haunted by doubt and fear wasn’t going to improve anything. What Jon said was true, yes: there was a risk being with Oliver. But what Oliver said was also true: he didn’t want to be like that anymore, and he was going to do everything it took to change.
And then he’d gone and done drugs again, and it made him doubt that he could change. Something was wired wrong in him, something about his personality or mental state or something was stopping him from improving, and it frustrated him. He could only hope that the frustration alone was enough to make something click, and perhaps with the right help he could change the wiring. Oliver needed to change, because he couldn’t keep putting Caleb through what he did.
Drugs had always been a part of their relationship, though, and it was almost strange. They’d started back in high school, when Caleb was in his final year and Oliver his second-to-last. The younger hadn’t known then, but there was some attraction there, with Caleb’s crush on him having lasted for years with no reciprocated feelings. The years Caleb was at school, Oliver finished high school and did his few years at college, and the drug use continued, as Caleb dated boys almost like Oliver, but not quite. And then he came back, and they hung out at parties and Oliver would get high, and Caleb knew that, Caleb saw it, and yet even then, Caleb didn’t stop liking him. For that matter, Oliver was even on something when Caleb asked him out the first time, which was why he couldn’t remember at all who he had a date with when he had embarked on it the morning of his twenty-first birthday. The cocaine had been a problem through the duration of their relationship, with Oliver getting high whenever he was alone and it was convenient and he needed it, and for a long time Caleb had simply had to put up with that. Abuse came later, but that was also a result of the drugs, combined with the cancer in his head that could have also come from his substance usage. And now here they were again, with the previous day wiped from his head because of the coke he had taken. The wrongness of the situation was hard to miss.
Caleb kissing his forehead seemed a lot more symbolic than comforting, not that it wasn’t also the latter. It felt like a promise, though, like it was forgiving everything and promising more and telling Oliver that they were going to be okay. When Caleb started speaking again afterwards, Oliver met his eye comfortably for the first time that morning, simply because he was starting to be able to relax. Everything was still complicated but at least it felt manageable, a knot that could one day be untied. As Caleb stopped speaking, Oliver nodded slowly, wanting to let him know that he understood and that he appreciated what he was saying, but not knowing what to say in response himself. Without thinking too much about it, he reached up and placed a hand on one of Caleb’s cheeks, then leaned over to kiss him once on the mouth, hovering there inches from his lips in the moments afterward. “I love you,” he muttered softly, letting himself fall victim to that feeling that being around Caleb always left him with, if he wasn’t distracted by everything else. That was the way with love, making him feel fluttery and light and peaceful, and if he let himself stop being so worried and upset, he could feel it even now, even when he knew things could still fall apart. Caleb loved him, Caleb was going to stay with him, and so what mattered now was only those things, and not everything else that Oliver was worried about. Things could get rough with whatever came of Oliver trying to quit drugs, yes, but Caleb knew that and still wanted to try. So Oliver let himself linger in the moment, hand still against his boyfriend’s face, lips still poised a small distance from Caleb’s. He told himself they would be okay, and for the first time in quite a while, he believed it, too.
Word Count: 1005 | Tag: Callie Bearrrrr| Notes: how to tell when a thread is dying: write posts like this
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