Post by Case McCallister on Mar 29, 2009 23:16:53 GMT -5
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You fall out of bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe...
Gone. He knew he had to face it. It was high time he accepted the fact. All the wishing in the world could change nothing, and he had responsibilities now that needed his full attention. Elsie needed a father who could cherish her for her, and not just for her dead mother. Case grimaced at the thought. He was trying, he really was. Elsie was the only thing on earth that brought any meaning to his life nowadays, and he realized guiltily that the past four years had been a blur. They hadn't gone quickly by any means, but he realized now that he could not recall any of the events, any moments of significance, and he was sure that if he had talked to anyone besides his daughter, he would not have been able to remember a single word. This wasn't life. It was existence.
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
And all at once you have to say goodbye...
Gone. Gone, and all too soon. Case rubbed his temple gruffly, blinking back tears. Tears that should have been gone by now. Why did he insist on going through this with his weak self? Over and over the memories tumbled through his cloudy mind, never ceasing, and always vivid. More vivid, in fact, than reality. The young couple he and Elsie always saw in the park, the family across the aisle from them in church, the young woman next door whose face glowed as she showed her giggling friends her engagement ring--they all reminded him of her. It was not, he reasoned, that he felt sorry for himself. Rather, a blanket of despair hung over him, one that he didn't have the strength to push off nor the will to try.
Gone. He felt a small hand slip itself into his and looked down. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him, a small mouth protruded disagreeably from the solemn little face now fixed on his. Case bent and lifted Elsie into his arms, knowing he shouldn't, that she was far too old to carry, but dismissed the thought absentmindedly as he felt the push of the crowd behind him. Small arms went round his neck, and he shifted his weight, holding her tightly against the unceasing flow of people. It was at times like these when the guilt began to rise; the city was no place for a small girl. Case often thought of the plantation, told himself the sun and the space and the summer breezes would be better for Elsie, that being near family would do them both good. But the more he thought about the prospect, the more he shrank back in spite of himself. He couldn't go back. Not yet.
The waking up is the hardest part
You fall out of bed and down on your knees
And for a moment you can hardly breathe...
Gone. He knew he had to face it. It was high time he accepted the fact. All the wishing in the world could change nothing, and he had responsibilities now that needed his full attention. Elsie needed a father who could cherish her for her, and not just for her dead mother. Case grimaced at the thought. He was trying, he really was. Elsie was the only thing on earth that brought any meaning to his life nowadays, and he realized guiltily that the past four years had been a blur. They hadn't gone quickly by any means, but he realized now that he could not recall any of the events, any moments of significance, and he was sure that if he had talked to anyone besides his daughter, he would not have been able to remember a single word. This wasn't life. It was existence.
When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
And all at once you have to say goodbye...
Gone. Gone, and all too soon. Case rubbed his temple gruffly, blinking back tears. Tears that should have been gone by now. Why did he insist on going through this with his weak self? Over and over the memories tumbled through his cloudy mind, never ceasing, and always vivid. More vivid, in fact, than reality. The young couple he and Elsie always saw in the park, the family across the aisle from them in church, the young woman next door whose face glowed as she showed her giggling friends her engagement ring--they all reminded him of her. It was not, he reasoned, that he felt sorry for himself. Rather, a blanket of despair hung over him, one that he didn't have the strength to push off nor the will to try.
Gone. He felt a small hand slip itself into his and looked down. Wide blue eyes blinked up at him, a small mouth protruded disagreeably from the solemn little face now fixed on his. Case bent and lifted Elsie into his arms, knowing he shouldn't, that she was far too old to carry, but dismissed the thought absentmindedly as he felt the push of the crowd behind him. Small arms went round his neck, and he shifted his weight, holding her tightly against the unceasing flow of people. It was at times like these when the guilt began to rise; the city was no place for a small girl. Case often thought of the plantation, told himself the sun and the space and the summer breezes would be better for Elsie, that being near family would do them both good. But the more he thought about the prospect, the more he shrank back in spite of himself. He couldn't go back. Not yet.
