I make some noise, something low and aborted in the back of my throat, but I can't answer him, as such. Now that he's got it together, more than anyone who just went through that should be able to, I can't look at him. My fingernails are digging into my palms so hard I can feel bruises forming, my body is rigid, my pulse is pounding in my throat and my temples and my jaw aches from how hard I'm clenching my molars together.
I still feel like I'm going to be sick, but I know what's making me feel that way is too deep and too in me to be gotten rid of, now.
I stand utterly still but for the barest sideways shake of my head. I can't find the words. There are no words for this.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2011-10-27 02:01 am (UTC)I still feel like I'm going to be sick, but I know what's making me feel that way is too deep and too in me to be gotten rid of, now.
I stand utterly still but for the barest sideways shake of my head. I can't find the words. There are no words for this.