Post by oliver rhys cardinal on Jun 18, 2013 22:50:17 GMT -7
your one last line, you fall on me for anything you like----------------------
------------------------------------------------------and years make everything alright
As he had sat dying in his parents basement for six months, Oliver had thought there could be nothing worse in all of human experience than to be where he was right then. He felt lonely, friendless, bored, tired, sick, all this negative emotion, and he didn’t know how anything could go further downhill. Having half a year to sit around and do nothing seems like many peoples’ dream in theory; perhaps the overworked employee could use it, or the video game enthusiast, or the stressed out student. But Oliver missed doing things. Being without Caleb, he not only missed out on time spent with him but also the times when they would go out together, be it on dates or doing something menial like getting groceries or stopping at McDonald’s because they weren’t in the right mood to cook. As weak as he was, though, he couldn’t go many places even when there was someone to invite him out of the basement and into the real world. That was why he couldn’t work, either, even if he had gone around his and Caleb’s place to pick up all of his equipment. Not that he would have had a studio, but even still, had he had more energy and strength, he could have done something, but as it had been, he had been virtually useless for all that time. And so he had very truly believed that he could go no lower, fall no further, and yet, now that he had reintroduced cocaine to his body, the cravings and irritability it gave him almost made him wish that the cancer was back, at least so that he had an excuse to be unhappy like he was. He had Caleb now, he had his health and he had his job and his house, but just the same he felt depressed sometimes, and agitated others, and given that he could hardly stand to be around himself he didn’t know how to believe Caleb could still want to be around him. Of course, he knew it wasn’t his own fault, and that he was doing the best he could, but even still it was hard to deal with, when all he wanted to do was be with his Callie Bear and be happy about it.
Though he had never thought about it, it was entirely possible that he had been dealing with the symptoms of withdrawal the entire time he had been apart from Caleb as well as into their reunion. Back then he had thought it was a side effect of dying. It made sense to be depressed and angry when he was close to the end of his life, because he was so young and had so much life left to live, had he not had it shortened by such a disease. After beating it, things became different, of course, but his mood stayed the same--something he told himself was because of loneliness, boredom, leftover weakness from the disease. And then Penny had died, and where was the room for happiness there? His sister was even younger than he was when she died, and so he was angry and sad about that, and those feelings were so natural that it never seemed out of place to be feeling them because of the withdrawal. He had Caleb beside him after that, but there was still some sort of distance, some emotional negativity he felt, and he thought it was mourning for his sister and for the relationship he had once had with the love of his life, and perhaps it was, but the withdrawal could have made it worse. Then came the car crash, causing more sorrow, but between then and the relapse he should have been happy, but had he been, he might not have relapsed at all. It only made sense, in retrospect, that Oliver had been suffering due to the loss of drugs in his system, and he only noticed it now, after his relapse, after his boyfriend had proven once again that he was here to stay and that there wasn’t anything to worry about anymore.
Caleb had told Oliver that if he ever needed to call him at work to avoid doing something stupid, then he was to do so right away. This had resulted in a good dozen or more calls in the past few weeks, sometimes multiple ones a day, if Oliver had nothing else to occupy his mind, and more than once Caleb had had to come back home because it seemed to get so bad. More than anything, Oliver was frustrated at his lack of independence because of it, the way that his body’s need for some substance overwhelmed his mind’s ability to function. There had been days where he had been a second away from calling his dealer before switching contacts and calling Caleb instead and telling him that he had reached the point of almost calling for more drugs. Recently his boyfriend had deleted the number from his phone, but he was scared that wasn’t enough because he still had it memorized. Once he had even made up his mind to go buy more in person, but had then managed to stop himself. He was doing well, and he realized this, but he didn’t want to have to bother his boyfriend all the time to take care of him. That wasn't at all fair to Caleb, who had a job to do, and quite obviously could not do it when he was sitting at home and babying his 23 year old boyfriend. This, naturally, made Oliver upset; he didn’t mean to be an inconvenience. All he wanted was to be better, to be healthy, to be able to wake up in the morning and not be desperate for his Callie Bear to stay at his side only because he didn’t know if he was going to be able to take care of himself without him. That wasn’t how he was supposed to feel, not at the age he was. One’s 20s are supposed to be the years of being on your own, taking care of yourself and living freely, and that was simply not how it was turning out.
Today had started badly. The warped dreams he had used to associate with the loss of his sister or the car crash Caleb was in he had begun to believe were a result of cocaine withdrawal, and they bothered him more than they had before as a result. Most days he just felt generally bad, whether it was angry or sad or just off in general, and so there were rarely days he was willing to let go of his hold on Caleb’s torso in the morning when the alarm started beeping for the start of the day. He was tired of not being happy, and so really all he felt he could do was cuddle until the symptoms went away. Knowing that wasn’t possible with a boyfriend that had to work and a photography business of his own, that only made to worsen his mood. That buzzing alarm was so unholy, and it only made him tighten his grip around Callie's waist, the small moan in the back of Oliver's throat a sign of protest and unwillingness to have this be another day. There were clients coming in later for photoshoots, and he felt bad for them because it was going to be a hassle to be pleasant and he had a feeling that people could tell when cheerfulness was forced. It felt unfair that this was still happening, and he wished he could stop the world until he felt better.
“Where do I opt out of today, Callie?” he mumbled, his voice sleepy and thick. “I don’t feel like having it.”
Though he had never thought about it, it was entirely possible that he had been dealing with the symptoms of withdrawal the entire time he had been apart from Caleb as well as into their reunion. Back then he had thought it was a side effect of dying. It made sense to be depressed and angry when he was close to the end of his life, because he was so young and had so much life left to live, had he not had it shortened by such a disease. After beating it, things became different, of course, but his mood stayed the same--something he told himself was because of loneliness, boredom, leftover weakness from the disease. And then Penny had died, and where was the room for happiness there? His sister was even younger than he was when she died, and so he was angry and sad about that, and those feelings were so natural that it never seemed out of place to be feeling them because of the withdrawal. He had Caleb beside him after that, but there was still some sort of distance, some emotional negativity he felt, and he thought it was mourning for his sister and for the relationship he had once had with the love of his life, and perhaps it was, but the withdrawal could have made it worse. Then came the car crash, causing more sorrow, but between then and the relapse he should have been happy, but had he been, he might not have relapsed at all. It only made sense, in retrospect, that Oliver had been suffering due to the loss of drugs in his system, and he only noticed it now, after his relapse, after his boyfriend had proven once again that he was here to stay and that there wasn’t anything to worry about anymore.
Caleb had told Oliver that if he ever needed to call him at work to avoid doing something stupid, then he was to do so right away. This had resulted in a good dozen or more calls in the past few weeks, sometimes multiple ones a day, if Oliver had nothing else to occupy his mind, and more than once Caleb had had to come back home because it seemed to get so bad. More than anything, Oliver was frustrated at his lack of independence because of it, the way that his body’s need for some substance overwhelmed his mind’s ability to function. There had been days where he had been a second away from calling his dealer before switching contacts and calling Caleb instead and telling him that he had reached the point of almost calling for more drugs. Recently his boyfriend had deleted the number from his phone, but he was scared that wasn’t enough because he still had it memorized. Once he had even made up his mind to go buy more in person, but had then managed to stop himself. He was doing well, and he realized this, but he didn’t want to have to bother his boyfriend all the time to take care of him. That wasn't at all fair to Caleb, who had a job to do, and quite obviously could not do it when he was sitting at home and babying his 23 year old boyfriend. This, naturally, made Oliver upset; he didn’t mean to be an inconvenience. All he wanted was to be better, to be healthy, to be able to wake up in the morning and not be desperate for his Callie Bear to stay at his side only because he didn’t know if he was going to be able to take care of himself without him. That wasn’t how he was supposed to feel, not at the age he was. One’s 20s are supposed to be the years of being on your own, taking care of yourself and living freely, and that was simply not how it was turning out.
Today had started badly. The warped dreams he had used to associate with the loss of his sister or the car crash Caleb was in he had begun to believe were a result of cocaine withdrawal, and they bothered him more than they had before as a result. Most days he just felt generally bad, whether it was angry or sad or just off in general, and so there were rarely days he was willing to let go of his hold on Caleb’s torso in the morning when the alarm started beeping for the start of the day. He was tired of not being happy, and so really all he felt he could do was cuddle until the symptoms went away. Knowing that wasn’t possible with a boyfriend that had to work and a photography business of his own, that only made to worsen his mood. That buzzing alarm was so unholy, and it only made him tighten his grip around Callie's waist, the small moan in the back of Oliver's throat a sign of protest and unwillingness to have this be another day. There were clients coming in later for photoshoots, and he felt bad for them because it was going to be a hassle to be pleasant and he had a feeling that people could tell when cheerfulness was forced. It felt unfair that this was still happening, and he wished he could stop the world until he felt better.
“Where do I opt out of today, Callie?” he mumbled, his voice sleepy and thick. “I don’t feel like having it.”
Word Count: 1319 | Tag: Callie Bear~<3 | Notes: afjsdlfkajsf