idontreallyspar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
idontreallyspar) wrote2006-08-06 08:09 pm
idontreallyspar) wrote2006-08-06 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
[FM]: Topic 33 - All Good Things (Come To An End)
It had been three months and he was still wearing it.
He sat in his new apartment…a small, stark, fairly depressing affair, and stared at the platinum band around his left ring finger, marveling. In so many ways, it symbolized his whole damn marriage…it was the one thing of any real value or beauty he owned.
It was the one really good thing he had.
Taking off the ring meant he wasn’t married anymore…and if he wasn’t married anymore, it meant that she was dead.
Tom shut his eyes, bending his head forward to rest against his own fist, feeling the cool solidity of the metal, the ring digging into his forehead almost painfully. It was a pain he welcomed, a pain he needed. It was physical and real and tangible, not this hot writhing burn in his gut and chest that had nothing to do with pressure on skin or damage to tissue or flow of blood.
Getting attached meant losing, he’d always known that…known it since he was twenty one and left home to start a new life for himself. He’d killed himself only to be reborn, and he’d learned…he’d learned that friendships in the field led to pain when those friends died. He learned that girls who got too close asked questions and demanded answers, answers he wasn’t ready to give anyone.
Then she came along…the girl that didn’t push. Didn’t ask, didn’t care about anything but what she saw…fuck, he couldn’t even *think* her name right now…
His other hand came up to rub his fist, his head lifting just enough so his fingers could curl together…smoothing over cool metal turning warm under flesh, platinum that never got a chance to wear with the passage of time…
He wasn’t quite aware of taking it off, only that his finger felt suddenly cool at the base, slightly damp from perspiration beneath the ring.
It was almost hot in his palm, laying there…like a living thing that was no longer alive. It felt that way, too, as it slowly turned cool, the heat of his palm not enough to keep the wedding ring warm.
Soon it was cold in his hand…cold as death.
And only then was he really a widower…only then was his wife really dead and gone.
Muse: Thomas Grace
Fandom: ALIAS
Words: 381
He sat in his new apartment…a small, stark, fairly depressing affair, and stared at the platinum band around his left ring finger, marveling. In so many ways, it symbolized his whole damn marriage…it was the one thing of any real value or beauty he owned.
It was the one really good thing he had.
Taking off the ring meant he wasn’t married anymore…and if he wasn’t married anymore, it meant that she was dead.
Tom shut his eyes, bending his head forward to rest against his own fist, feeling the cool solidity of the metal, the ring digging into his forehead almost painfully. It was a pain he welcomed, a pain he needed. It was physical and real and tangible, not this hot writhing burn in his gut and chest that had nothing to do with pressure on skin or damage to tissue or flow of blood.
Getting attached meant losing, he’d always known that…known it since he was twenty one and left home to start a new life for himself. He’d killed himself only to be reborn, and he’d learned…he’d learned that friendships in the field led to pain when those friends died. He learned that girls who got too close asked questions and demanded answers, answers he wasn’t ready to give anyone.
Then she came along…the girl that didn’t push. Didn’t ask, didn’t care about anything but what she saw…fuck, he couldn’t even *think* her name right now…
His other hand came up to rub his fist, his head lifting just enough so his fingers could curl together…smoothing over cool metal turning warm under flesh, platinum that never got a chance to wear with the passage of time…
He wasn’t quite aware of taking it off, only that his finger felt suddenly cool at the base, slightly damp from perspiration beneath the ring.
It was almost hot in his palm, laying there…like a living thing that was no longer alive. It felt that way, too, as it slowly turned cool, the heat of his palm not enough to keep the wedding ring warm.
Soon it was cold in his hand…cold as death.
And only then was he really a widower…only then was his wife really dead and gone.
Muse: Thomas Grace
Fandom: ALIAS
Words: 381