Jude
dagger to chest, I'll cut out my ego
I will not speak to you as an equal
I will not speak to you as an equal
Jude admittedly flinches the tiniest bit when the scissors close decisively. He'd like to ignore all the poetic implications, but as a songwriter it's impossible; just more salt in the wound. Maybe it even explains why he hasn't been able to move on while Sohalia and Koa have - too stuck in the illusory fantasy of depths of emotion that had never really existed. Projecting the intensity of his own feelings onto the pair of them when it was unmatched.
He takes the shears and the lock of her hair with gentle, careful hands. Almost reverent. Her care and willingness to do this for him is a big thing, one he appreciates just as equally as he resents it, because it isn't the sort of care he wishes it would be.
"I miss it too," he admits quietly. Perhaps not as much as her truthfully; given his feelings, it's hard to miss only the platonic when it is overshadowed by the romantic. But Jude is a lonely person and has been for far too long at this point - friendship of any kind is a welcome and appealing idea. "Trust won't feel as broken once this is done. That hurt only happened...later." A graceless way of saying 'once we were together'. "But that's only going to change for me. I want you to know that I'll try to remember that." It will be hard and he knows it. Without these feelings, it will be easy to be confused why she might be hesitant to trust or spend time with him. Logic and memories will aid him, but his own feelings will be clearer and less painful than hers.
Holding Joan in his arms, Jude slowly stands, carefully tying a string around the lock of hair she'd given him to keep the strands together once they're in the little glass jar he'd brought along in his bag. Looking down at Sohalia, Jude smiles sadly. "You're a good person, Sohalia. For better or worse, honestly. I hope I can reciprocate again after this is done." The way he once had, what seems like forever ago. "Thank you. I'll write you when it's over." As close to a promise as he can make to assure her that in the end, he does intend to try.
He takes the shears and the lock of her hair with gentle, careful hands. Almost reverent. Her care and willingness to do this for him is a big thing, one he appreciates just as equally as he resents it, because it isn't the sort of care he wishes it would be.
"I miss it too," he admits quietly. Perhaps not as much as her truthfully; given his feelings, it's hard to miss only the platonic when it is overshadowed by the romantic. But Jude is a lonely person and has been for far too long at this point - friendship of any kind is a welcome and appealing idea. "Trust won't feel as broken once this is done. That hurt only happened...later." A graceless way of saying 'once we were together'. "But that's only going to change for me. I want you to know that I'll try to remember that." It will be hard and he knows it. Without these feelings, it will be easy to be confused why she might be hesitant to trust or spend time with him. Logic and memories will aid him, but his own feelings will be clearer and less painful than hers.
Holding Joan in his arms, Jude slowly stands, carefully tying a string around the lock of hair she'd given him to keep the strands together once they're in the little glass jar he'd brought along in his bag. Looking down at Sohalia, Jude smiles sadly. "You're a good person, Sohalia. For better or worse, honestly. I hope I can reciprocate again after this is done." The way he once had, what seems like forever ago. "Thank you. I'll write you when it's over." As close to a promise as he can make to assure her that in the end, he does intend to try.
Label my pride and I'll cast it away
If power corrupts, then just let me be weak
If power corrupts, then just let me be weak
